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Jul. 15th, 2006 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fics_by_maplePairing; Harry/Ginny - OBHWF
Rating; NC-17
Warning; Het, Sex, Language, Romance
Pairing; Harry/Ginny - OBHWF
Rating; NC-17
Warning; Het, Sex, Language, Romance
~^~^~^
Ginny had been waiting all morning for the sound.
Waiting.
She helped with the party preparations, looking casual. Knowing she pulled it off.
The tingling sensation that rushed between her skipping heart and her sweaty palms never betrayed her. Not spilling so much as a drop of pumpkin juice all morning, while she listened for the sound.
Pop. There it was.
She knew the instant she heard the tiny noise that it was him and no one else. She didn’t need what she heard next to confirm it.
“Harry!” chorused several excited voices of her family out in the garden.
She didn’t need to see what transpired outside to know what was happening. Hermione and her mum were hugging him, her brothers clapping him on the back and shoving him around a bit, because every one was a prat and liked to shove around ‘Harry Potter.’ And she was certain that Fred licked his finger and swiped Harry’s specs.
But she didn’t move from her spot in front of the counter. Using her wand, she continued to guide two pitchers in filling a dozen glasses with pumpkin juice.
She took a deep breath, willing herself not to look out the doorway, not to be standing there blushing like a Weasley.
The tingling in her palms increased as she fought the desire to run outside and join the others greeting him. She couldn’t remember feeling quite this nervous while fighting Death Eaters when she was only fourteen.
‘Just wait,’ she told herself. ‘Be patient. You’ve done this for a long time. Just a few more minutes.’
The throng of voices pitched with laughter outside. They were all enjoying his company right now.
As usual, she would wait with infuriating patience for everyone else to have their piece of him first: the wizarding world at large, and her family, and even that woman. She knew Harry would come to her eventually. That skipping heartbeat told her so. Nothing else in the world caused it, not even those Death Eaters when she was fourteen.
Only Harry could do that to her.
And only Harry would have her do something as ridiculous as carry a piece of parchment in her pocket every day for the past two weeks.
It had arrived in the Owl post during breakfast on the morning of her final N.E.W.T. exam. She had sent Ron and Hermione a short letter asking if they would be coming to the Burrow for today’s party. There hadn’t been a leaving school party in the family since Percy’s.
Hermione would of course see through the absurd note. Hermione would know who Ginny was really asking about.
But the response couldn’t have shocked and pleased Ginny more. On the back of her own letter was something she never expected to see: Harry’s untidy scroll.
Gin,
We will all be at the Burrow.
Can’t wait to see you again.
Harry
It was short. It was innocuous. But it was the first and last letter that she had ever received from him.
Not once during her sixth year, when she still held hope every day of hearing news from him, had he written to her.
She never expected a letter from him during the past year. Not while he was trying to create a normal life for himself. Not while he was seeing that woman. Not while she was still at school.
But it was with her now. She put her hand into her pocket and fingered the parchment, knowing he’d held it in his hand while writing it.
“I think she’s in the kitchen, mate,” one of her brothers said outside.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In mere seconds she would see him. She would have every reasonable excuse in the world to embrace him.
That embrace would be nothing like the hugs her brothers gave her: a quick squeeze around the shoulders, a rough pat on her upper back, maybe mussing her hair a bit.
No, Harry’s hug would linger slightly longer than the rest. It would be perfectly respectful and he’d be able to do it in front of every member of her family, but she knew the difference. She would feel his whole body against hers, if only for a moment. She’d feel his hands on her waist. She would be able to run her hands over his back and hold him tight, feel his breath against her neck and smell the scent of him.
“Hey Gin, welcome home.”
Her sweaty palms finally betrayed her as her wand slipped, allowing a levitating pitcher to knock over the last glass of juice.
~^~^~^
Harry laughed as he was jostled roughly from one honorary brother to another and receiving sloppy kisses on his cheek from the women. It only took a moment to recognize that the red head he truly wanted to see wasn’t present.
Something in his chest plummeted with disappointment that she wasn’t the first person in his arms.
He quickly tried to calculate how long he should wait before asking about her. Fighting the growing urge to storm about the place, calling out her name until he found her.
He took his time with this family that he loved. He answered their polite inquiries, and recited his rehearsed line regarding the latest Quidditch match. He made respectful eye contact with everyone he spoke to, all the while searching his peripheral vision for some sign of her.
Harry casually made his way through the many levitating chairs being settled around the long table in preparation for their outdoor meal.
He felt an inexplicable pull towards the house, and knew she must be inside. He knew the feeling, like the attraction of a magnet to its pole; he had been denying that feeling for a long time. Now he was ready to follow that pull and was desperately hoping she felt the same.
So much had changed. At the time, he hadn’t known how else to deal with what was before him without cutting out what made him soft. The thing that made him wish he were a normal young man with a normal future ahead.
So he’d denied it. Denied her.
The first year had been full of darkness and battle and pain. He never wanted to associate her with all that, so he cut her out.
The second year had been about recovery, about adjustment. He had to learn how to let people in again. He had to figure out how he could live a life that wasn’t doomed after all; learn to hope again.
Harry was shaken from his thoughts when Fred seized him from the side.
“Oi, Harry, I’ve got something for you,” he said, as he wiped a spit-slicked finger over his eyeglass lens.
“A-haha -gets funnier every time, Fred,” Harry said shaking his head as he removed his glasses to wipe them clean again. Fred seemed pleased with himself.
“So, where you off to?” Fred asked, with an air of knowing all too well exactly what Harry was up to.
“Erm, just to get a drink?” Harry knew it was too much to hope that Fred didn’t notice the flush he felt rise in his face. That really should not have been a question.
Harry was thankful for the soft spot the twin had for him. It won out and Fred decided not to tease him further.
“I think she’s in the kitchen, mate,” Fred said, walking back into the garden, grinning in a way that made Harry flush further.
He was grateful to have one more second to himself before seeing her. For one more moment he could hang on to his hope. He could hang on to the dream that she still wanted to be with him.
That she had not forgotten what they had started in spite of his cruel silence over the recent years. In spite of the young woman he had let distract him. In spite of the young Ravenclaw man she had let distract her.
How he prayed that young man had been nothing more to Ginny than a distraction. He couldn’t bear to think of how far she may have let that distraction go.
He still felt the magnetic pull though. That had to mean something. He knew she had every right to be angry, to be distant, to be cautious. Even still, he was certain he would know if he still had a chance with her within the first moment.
He tried to fill his sunken chest with the spirit of Gryffindor as he walked through the kitchen doorway.
There she was, breathtaking and beautiful. Her hair. Her shape. The last time he saw her was during the holidays and she dressed in jeans and frumpy jumpers and witch’s robes. She was beautiful in his eyes even then, but now, in cut off jean shorts with a school oxford tied at her waist, the burn he felt for her only intensified.
He found his voice, wishing he could convey all that was in his heart for her with a simple sentence.
“Hey Gin, welcome home.”
The glass that tipped over and juice running down the counter told him everything. He smiled as the creature in his chest sprung to life again.
~^~^~^
“Bugger!” Ginny muttered as she grabbed a towel to sop up the mess. Harry was by her side in an instant, chuckling as he righted the glass.
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” she lied for the first time today, laughing off her embarrassment.
“Oh, you weren’t?” Harry said, turning to face her. Was that a hint a disappointment in his voice?
“Well, yes, I knew you were coming, but, I just.” Ginny made a note to pinch herself later for sounding so daft. “Hi,” she said, and though the moment was marred, she hugged him. They were friends. Practically family in an odd way, hugging him was perfectly innocent.
Not so innocent perhaps, were the passionate images flashing through her mind while she pressed her cheek against his hard chest, pulling him tight. She was happy to have the opportunity to admire him in the light blue polo shirt and loose faded jeans he wore.
Wishing she had taken up study of Occlumency, she wondered if he could see her thoughts. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her like he did that first time so long ago. She wished for his hands to explore her body freely and grind against her like he had just begun to do before he walked out of her life.
And yet, things might be easier if he could see into her mind and what she wanted from him. She had always done a better job of showing Harry how she felt than telling him.
Ginny wasn’t imagining this hug though. Their bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh, their palms open against each others back and there was no mistaking this was lingering. Without doubt, a mere friendly embrace would have broken apart by now, but he seemed as intent on holding onto her as she was to him.
As the moment passed by them, she tilted her head up look at him. She searched his eyes for some sense of what he wanted.
Unless time had changed things very much, she knew the intense gaze of those green eyes meant that he wanted her as much as she did him.
“Gin?” Harry said, as one hand reached up to stroke her hair, too intimate for a friend.
‘Yes, Harry, say it, I’m ready,’ she answered in her mind, holding her breath, afraid that saying anything out loud might quiet him again.
Unfortunately, what did quiet him was the arrival of her mum, Hermione and Charlie.
Harry smiled, looking uncomfortable, and Ginny didn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. He was apparently annoyed at the interruption as much as she was. Even more promising, she thought: he didn’t startle and jump away from her, as if guilty for being caught doing something wrong. He gave her one more imperceptible squeeze and slowly, almost regretfully, pulled away from her.
He didn’t seem afraid of letting her family see them together, that much she noticed as well.
Mrs. Weasley was waving her wand, levitating several dishes out the door and issuing instructions to all.
“Help me?” Ginny asked, and together they levitated the drinks outside, biding their time with small talk.
Bill and Fleur arrived amid the commotion and everyone found their seats. Harry intended to sit next to Ginny but Ron turfed him out of the only open seat, between Ginny and his wife. Mr. Weasley was already seated at the head of the table on Ginny’s other side so Harry had to sit across from Ginny.
The family talked about everything and nothing, all at once. Ginny felt as if there were a white hippogriff sitting at the table between them, but no one else seemed to notice.
Everyone listened to Ginny’s report on her N.E.W.T. exams and about the train ride home and who among her classmates were getting married this summer.
Ginny held up her part beautifully, never faltering in the account of her Potions’ practical while noticing how the breeze lifted the tufts of hair off Harry’s forehead, and observing how the tip of his thumb glistened after he licked it free of pudding.
“How was the leaving feast, Ginny? Was it nice?” Hermione asked from the other side of Ron.
“Not bad. Same as usual I guess,” she answered, which really wasn’t true at all. She had spent the whole time unable to decide which was worse, staying at school, apart from Harry or leaving school and finding that he had moved on.
“Ron told us about winning the Quidditch cup; that’s brilliant!” Charlie said.
“It was,” said Ron through a mouthful of potatoes. “She could have caught the Snitch at least two different times but she let it go and waited until they were eighty five points ahead so they could take the cup. And they beat Slytherin at that -was great!”
Ginny smiled to hear Ron’s enthusiasm, glancing over to see Harry’s reaction.
It had meant so much to her that Ron and Hermione had come to see the match. Though she had been plenty annoyed with herself for being disappointed that Harry had not come with them.
“Sorry I missed that one,” Harry said. “It sounded like a good match.”
“That’s all right. It was no big deal,” Ginny lied, for the second time.
“But Gin, what happened?” Fred interrupted. “How did Ravenclaw manage to win the House Championship? Honestly, little sister, I expected more from you.”
“I didn’t lose it all by myself,” she answered, trying to keep things light. The truth was, outside of Slytherin house, the Gryffindor students had suffered the worst from the war that had just ended. Winning house points didn’t seem so important after the perspective of the past few years.
But no amount of provoking was going to make her mention the bloody war right now.
“But come on, the last year a Weasley Gryffindor attends Hogwarts, and we lost it. It’s a bleedin’ shame, Ginny. You weren’t supporting Ravenclaw by any chance, were you?”
There it is, she thought, feeling a spiteful smirk creep into her lips. She knew it wouldn’t be long before having to tolerate a ribbing about the Ravenclaw prefect she had been seeing. She chanced a quick peek at Harry, who looked a little pink in the face himself and appeared to be mutilating his dinner roll.
”Bugger off, Fred. How many points did you win for Gryffindor in your seventh year? Hmm? Oh, right – none!” she countered.
“All right, you lot,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Enough of that. Finish up.”
But Fred was unfazed, and Ginny knew it. He and George had started earning bags of gold that year, and he’d never felt any remorse for leaving school early.
“So Gin, how much support is Ravenclaw getting these days eh? You still cheering for the Ravenclaw team? You wearing a Ravenclaw badge on your robes?” Fred never did know when to quit, especially when trying to compensate for George’s absence as well.
Ginny was just about to lose patience with her brother, when another stepped in.
“I think that Fred’s trying to find out if you’re still seeing that Ravenclaw bloke?” said Ron, looking cautiously at her out of the corner of his eye, avoiding Harry.
Ginny cast one more dirty look at Fred, who was finally quiet and began eating, smiling to himself. He seemed satisfied that he had stirred the cauldron quite enough, blinking innocently at her.
“Well, it’s not a secret,” Ginny answered, thinking she’d throttle Fred before the day was over. “I’ll answer the question to anyone who can ask it honestly.” She pulled a face at Fred again.
“Then? Have you ditched him or not?” Ron asked, taking another bite. Ginny wondered if a single one of her brothers would learn not to speak with his mouth full.
Ginny looked past him at Hermione, who was giving Ron an aggravated look for his lack of subtlety.
“What?” Ron asked. Hermione looked apologetic.
Ginny, wishing her damn family would just stay out of things, answered honestly, “Yes, I broke it off a few months ago.”
Ginny took another bite, quickly looking at Harry, who she was certain smiled briefly behind his drinking glass. She would have rather avoided this, but at least now Harry knew there was no one else.
“I dated a Ravenclaw boy during my seventh year,” said their mother, drawing attention to her end of the table. “Made your father furiously jealous. That’s how I nabbed him in the end, you know.” Mrs. Weasley gave a cheeky grin to her husband, who nodded and winked at his wife.
“The truth of the matter is,” he said, with a hushed voice in mock pretense of keeping his words concealed from Mrs. Weasley, “that Ravenclaw was an abominable bore. I was taken with pity for the old girl and took up with her myself.”
The whole table giggled, and Ginny and Harry were able to make eye contact once again.
~^~^~^
Harry was thankful for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s diversion. Listening to Fred torment Ginny about her love life, one that didn’t include him, was more than he could bear. He’d have to remember to thank Ron for putting an end to it, even if he’d not done so very delicately.
Unfortunately, Fred wasn’t finished quite yet. He was clearly aware of the white hippogriff that lounged between Ginny and himself, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone else knew.
“Now Harry, do tell us, have you seen much of Ireland lately?” Fred asked, looking down the table with wide, innocent eyes.
Harry gritted his teeth and felt his temperature rise. He was going to throttle Fred before the day was done. Several hexes that wouldn’t hurt but keep him silent came to mind.
“Ireland was looking beautiful last time I saw,” Fred continued, chewing slowly. Harry didn’t miss Charlie’s and Bill’s chuckling, keeping their heads bowed, nor did he miss the clink as Ginny dropped her fork on her plate. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“Fred, what are you talking about? Neither you or Harry has been out of the country in months,” Mrs. Weasley said.
Harry winced at her attempt, but she just didn’t understand. Shannon had been from Ireland, and she was the last thing he wanted to have to discuss at this dinner table, on this beautiful day, with Ginny sitting across from him.
“Actually, Mum, Harry’s had quite a tour of Ireland this year,” Fred answered.
“Really?” asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry gripped his wand.
“Quidditch!” Ron interrupted loudly, sending bits of his last bite onto the table. “Who’s up for a pick up match? Me and Harry’ll take on the lot of you!”
Harry and Ron exchanged quick looks as they abruptly stood up from the table. Ginny followed immediately.
Soon, all were scrambling to find broomsticks and bats. Ron had received a set a of Quidditch balls for Christmas last year. Bill and Charlie transfigured dinner plates into goal hoops and charmed them to levitate above the garden.
Harry was in the air circling, before anyone else. Ron quickly joined him.
“Thanks for the distraction, mate,” Harry said.
“Yeah, Fred’s an arse,” Ron said, as he looked to where Harry was staring below them. Ginny was holding her broomstick between her knees as she tied her hair up into a ponytail. “But he’s never far from the mark is he?”
Harry looked wide-eyed at Ron, who waggled his eyebrows before flying off in front of the hoops.
Never in the history of Quidditch games played over the Burrow had a more pitiful game been played, even in spite of the fact that Ron was a professional Keeper now. Albeit, he was a reserve player, his notoriety at being associated with Harry in addition to his skill and enthusiasm helped secure him a position.
Regrettably, Ron’s skills alone couldn’t win against Bill, Charlie, Fred and Ginny. Harry was thoroughly distracted. He was playing Chaser/Seeker and he spent far too much time watching after Ginny (“the Snitch,” he said), than he did trying to score. At one point Ron hovered above him, after narrowly clubbing away a Bludger from an oblivious Harry.
“Mate, if you don’t pull it together we’re going to lose to this lot or you’ll lose your head to Bludger. Budge up!” Ron said. Harry thought it rather diplomatic of him to not mention Ginny, since it was her legs that he had been staring at.
Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Ever since he hugged her before lunch, he couldn’t think of anything but having his hands on her again. Running his hands down her back, along her waist, and feeling her hips. He didn’t remember her having such curves before. Of course, back then he had been very cautious about where and how much he let his hands roam, but he wasn’t feeling such concern right now.
Thoughts of touching Ginny caused him a very uncomfortable seat on his broomstick, and he flew like rubbish.
And so, with much cheering, hooting and shameful gloating, Ginny caught the Snitch and Team Weasley beat Team Potter-Weasley quite soundly.
The three oldest ran into the house to raid the kitchen in search of whatever Mrs. Weasley had prepared for afters.
Harry thought Ron would be upset with him, but when he landed he promptly pounced on Hermione who had found a place in the shade to watch the match.
“Ron, no! Get off, you’re all sweaty,” she giggled as he pushed her back, brazenly lying on top of her in the grass, silencing her laughter with a snog.
Harry and Ginny laughed at them and looked away.
“That was a good match. You really are a good Seeker,” he said.
“Thanks, Harry. You’re a good Seeker too, but honestly you seemed a bit off your game today. You have something on your mind?”
Aside from wanting to know what your legs would feel like around my shoulders? Harry thought with a fleeting image in his mind that made him shift on his feet.
“No – but you outnumbered us two to one,” he said, glancing behind him to see if Ron and Hermione were still at it. They were.
“I don’t know how you put up with it for so long,” Ginny said, giggling, as Hermione hooked an ankle over Ron’s leg.
“Well, mostly because this is better than all the fighting, though sometimes not much quieter.”
“Harry!” Hermione scolded, but she and Ron both laughed at Harry’s teasing. Untangling herself from Ron, she stood up. “You three must be thirsty after that match. I’ll get us some drinks.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ginny offered. Harry regretted the interruption. He didn’t want to see her go, but didn’t mind watching her walk away either.
~^~^~^
When the girls returned with tall glasses of pumpkin juice, they found Ron still in the same spot, sprawled on his back in the shade.
Harry had walked some distance away and was leaning on a tree with his back to them.
“Oh no…” Hermione said when she saw him. Both girls knew he was gazing ahead of him at the grave, which lay at the foot of an outcropping of rocks.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ron, sitting up when he heard Hermione’s exclamation.
“It’s Harry,” said Hermione, handing Ron the drink she brought. “Look at him. He’s going to go all sullen now, and it’s been such a lovely day too.”
“He’s not gone all sullen,” Ron said in defense of Harry, after drinking half the glass of juice. Both girls sat on either side of him. “He’s just, I dunno, remembering, I guess.”
“How do you know? Did the two of you talk then?” Hermione asked.
“No, we didn’t talk,” Ron said, pulling a face. “What are we, a couple of birds? I just know, you know? Harry’s just remembering that day, digging the grave… and if I know my mate at all, he’s remembering you too, Gin.”
Hermione stroked his face making a girlish whimpering sound, which made him roll his eyes.
Ginny blushed. She had great insight on Harry, but her brother really did know him best.
With the drinks in hand, Ginny took a deep breath and set off to join Harry. Finally she could get time alone with him. She would divert his attention from who was buried there.
~^~^~^ Continue to Chapter 2
Reviews are like chocolate, please take the time to leave one – Thank you!
I owe mrspadf00t1 a world a thanks for her early beta work and 11pm encouragement. belovedranger, for taking a Harry story, even though he’s like her brother.
