Chapter Text
“Are you any good at Switching Spells?” Ginny frowned at the laces of her shoes, which she was trying to swap with the ribbons from her hair. “I don't think I'm doing it right, my shoelaces just keep twitching … Harry?”
“Mmm?”
“Are you listening to me?”
She pushed her hair out of her face and peered suspiciously at her boyfriend, who was stretched out on his front on the grass at her feet. He wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to her, but staring at her bare legs as if transfixed.
Boys.
“‘Scuse me, I’m up here,” she said pointedly.
“I know,” Harry replied, not budging an inch. “I’m counting.”
“Counting what?”
“Freckles.” He ran a finger lightly along her shin, tickling her skin and making her squeal. “Sixty-three on this one,” he added, lifting his head to look at her. “Below your knee, anyway. But to be thorough …”
He hauled himself up, moving to sit next to her against the tree trunk, and his fingers danced teasingly close to the hem of her skirt. Ginny slapped them away, laughing.
“Whatever happened to the awkward boy I knew before?”
“Can’t help it,” he told her absently, leaning in to kiss her neck, lips brushing against her jaw and behind her ear, then moving down to her collarbone … Ginny felt her shoulders drop, head tipping back, sinking into his touch, unable to prevent herself from giving in to it when it felt so good …
“Hermione was right,” she mumbled, as Harry’s hand settled on her thigh, not sliding upwards, but caressing gently with thumb and forefinger. “You are a distraction.”
“Maybe you’re just easily distracted,” he suggested, other hand cupping her waist. Ginny found herself arching her body up towards him, seeking more of his touch … his fingers wandered to a place where her shirt had come untucked from her skirt and lingered on her skin, and it was all she could do to stop herself from yanking the damn thing off herself and pulling him down on top of her …
“I have exams …”
“You only need to say stop,” Harry reminded her, in between kisses in the hollow of her throat, sending tingles all the way down her spine. Her hips twitched; her body felt taut, responding to every little touch like lightning had brushed her skin. The git, Ginny thought. He knew she had absolutely no intention of telling him to stop.
She hooked a leg around his waist, lifting herself into his lap - he groaned against her throat - and pushed him down onto his back, lying along the length of his body, feeling his heart thudding beneath her; he wrapped one arm around her back, the other entangling itself in her hair, and she kissed him hard, ignoring the rim of his glasses pressing into her cheekbone - she could do this forever -
“Unghhh,” he groaned against her lips. “Gin -”
All too suddenly there was space between them, cold and empty space, and Ginny was blinking at Harry, disgruntled. He had sat up, running a hand through his hair - even more dishevelled than usual - and looking very dazed.
“Needed to stop,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Er - there would’ve been -”
He gestured vaguely downwards.
“Oh, right,” said Ginny, comprehension dawning. “You - er - yeah. Sorry.”
“No!” Harry said hurriedly. “Don’t - it’s not your - um …” He was going very red, and Ginny, longing to save him from the embarrassment that was clearly about to swallow him up, reached out to tentatively pat his hand. Finally, Harry looked at her.
“It’s my monster,” he said, in a tone that suggested this was meant to be an explanation.
For a moment or two Ginny was certain she’d misheard.
“It’s your - I’m sorry, your monster?”
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Y’know, it’s sort of - like a creature inside me, whenever I’m near you - and especially when I’m that near - it kind of takes over. Sends me a bit, er -”
“Randy?” Ginny suggested. He shot her a grin.
“That’s one way of putting it, I s’pose.”
“You do know it’s the same for me, right?” Ginny said. “It’s called hormones. I mean, I have exams in a few weeks and instead of revising I’m frolicking in the grass with you, that should tell you something.”
Harry seemed to take a minute to process this. “Really? You feel - uh -”
“Um, yeah,” said Ginny. She was glad at that moment for her long hair, because she could tell her ears were reddening as she added meaningfully, “a lot.”
“Oh,” said Harry. “Right. Well, that’s … good.”
“Good, but inconvenient,” said Ginny, and he grinned again.
“Sorry.”
There was a beat or two of comfortable silence in which Ginny shuffled over to sit beside him again, lightly resting her head on his shoulder. Then Harry said:
“Frolicking?”
“It’s a word,” Ginny said defensively.
“I know it’s a word, I just wasn’t aware that’s what we were doing. Should I tell Ron that if he asks? Oh don’t worry, we were just frolicking -”
“Shut up, you knew what I meant -”
Harry was smirking now. “Can we frolic in other places as well, or does it have to be in the grass?”
“Why don’t you ask your monster?” Ginny shot back. His grin faded.
“Hang on, that’s not -”
“Does your monster have a name? Can I name it?”
“You knew what I meant!”
“I think I’ll call it Angus,” said Ginny brightly. “Then when things get a bit much, you can just say Angus is getting worked up, and I’ll know -”
“Don’t you have revising to do?” asked Harry desperately. Ginny giggled at the look on his face.
“Not today,” she told him, sliding into his lap again and making him emit a choked sound that did, in fact, sound rather inhuman. “I think I need to spend a bit of quality time with you and Angus …”