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It had been blissful. A high greater than flying, greater than watching Cho throw her broom down in anger and humiliation after Ginny herself had personally sealed the Gryffindor claim to the Quidditch Cup. It was poetic really, snatching up the snitch from right under Cho’s nose. Just like in the naming of the DA, the upgrade from Cho’s “Defense Association” to Ginny’s “Dumbledore’s Army”. Cho had gotten there first, but Ginny had won in the end. She had gotten Harry.
Triumph, bliss, and a particularly warm feeling of pleasurable shock all mixed in her chest, swirling like wind through her hair, pumping like blood in her veins. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of pining, Harry had kissed her. He’d taken her hand and led her to the grounds, where he’d kissed her again, held her close, and spent the entire afternoon just being there with her. The moments around the lake had felt sacred, it felt both special and new, and yet incredibly comfortable - Harry’s arms wrapped around her comforted her like her oldest, softest Weasley sweater, wrapping her in a feeling of contentment, a feeling of home. It was as they had been this summer - banter and joking, conversation that flowed with ease, and silences that were comfortable, but now these moments were punctuated with soft touches as his hands slipped into hers, slid up her arms, ran through her hair. They had spoken of everything, rather than everything and nothing. It felt intimate. It felt real. Blissful.
They had finally departed at the bottom of the stairs leading into the Girls dormitory, the Common Room much calmer and emptier than it had been during that first, shocking surprise of a kiss, but none the less all eyes were on them. Ginny did not care. She simultaneously wanted to guard this new private blissful feeling and shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower - showing off her contentedness, her happiness, her Harry. Her cheeks were warm with blush and her lips were deliciously sore as they had shared kiss after kiss on that long walk around the grounds. She couldn’t help the grin on her face, couldn’t help but relish in her own happiness. It had finally happened.
When she reached her dormitory, she found it mostly empty. She had half expected this, for most of her fifth-year classmates to be hidden away in the library studying during their O.W.L year. But, as she strode in she noticed someone lounging comfortably on Ginny’s own bed, large book in her hands.
“Nosy as ever. I should have known you would be waiting for me, Hermione. Are you here to say I-told-you-so?” Hermione didn’t even have the decency to look hurt by the jab, she raised her head from her book, and the knowing smirk that had been playing across her lips for weeks had been replaced by something more genuine, more openly joyful.
“Tell me everything”
Ginny huffed a half laugh and somehow smiled even wider; her cheeks were tired from the grin she hadn’t been able to wipe off her face since she had thrown herself into Harry’s arms in celebration of their victory… how many hours ago? Long enough to miss dinner. Long enough to enjoy both sunshine and sunset and warmth and each other.
“It was quite perfect”, she managed, “we just walked the grounds and talked and -“
“For seven hours?” Hermione interrupted, smirking, the knowing look back on her face.
Ginny sat down on her bed, shifting Hermione’s legs to sit in front of her friend, but not quite facing her. She put her hands to her face for a moment, covering her eyes and hiding her smile, before moving her hands to her cheeks to try and calm the still present blush. She could still feel the tips of Harry’s fingers stroking down her jawline as he kissed her, her own fingertips ghosted over her lips, trying to remember exactly how it had felt. But she didn’t have to try and remember. She knew that she would be able to relive that kiss and live many more in the future.
“We weren’t really paying attention to the time I suppose,” Ginny barked out a quick laugh, “time flies when you’re having fun, and snogging Harry Potter is a lot of fun.”
Hermione beamed, “I’m very happy for you, you deserve it. You both do. You’ve fancied him for ages, and that was the biggest smile I’ve seen on Harry’s face since third year.”
Ginny felt her grin soften. She knew how broody Harry could be, had seen it, helped pull him out of it a few times herself, but it made her sad to see that Hermione, ever observant, had a timeline of Harry’s happiness, or lack thereof, as well.
She turned her head to look at Hermione, “It really was perfect. We walked around the lake and just talked. It was like this summer, sharing jokes and just being comfortable. I told him about the match, he told me bit about your adventures going after the Sorcerer’s Stone and freeing Sirius.” She felt her smile finally drop away, “he even talked about that… about Sirius I mean.”
“Did he?” Hermione looked shocked. Ginny met her eyes and searched them, trying to confirm her suspicions. Had she been the first one Harry had spoken with openly about the death of his Godfather? She hadn’t been sure, but it had been the least fluid their conversation had been, abrupt stops to his speech filled with silence, comfortable silence, but silence none the less, as if he had been steeling himself, as if he had been putting thoughts to words for the first time.
“Yes,” Ginny began slowly, still looking at Hermione, trying to discern if the older girl, Harry’s best friend and one of his closest and truest confidants, also knew the things she now knew, “I think… I think he’s much better than he was last year obviously, but I’m not sure he’ll forgive himself for how things happened anytime soon.”
“But it wasn’t his fault!” Hermione exclaimed, “he must know that -“
“Hermione, I think you and I know that. But Harry… he’s so bloody noble, to the point of stupidity really… he kept apologizing to me for bringing me along, for my ankle, and for you as well.”
“For me?” She asked, seeming astounded by the turns the conversation had taken. She contemplated for a moment and then smirked, “You two finally get your heads out of your arses and you’re discussing me? How touching.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, but ignored Hermione’s attempts to lighten the conversation, “I think he’s afraid, Hermione.”
“Of course he is, everyone is now.” She answered, but she looked guilty somehow, as if she knew something more.
“Not of You-Know-Who,” Ginny answered slowly, trying to decipher the look on her friend’s face, “He seemed… surprised I wanted to be there with him. Pleased by it obviously, but… it was as if he though at any moment I was going to up and leave him. Snap at him for what he had done, as if it was his fault. He’s worried he’s… too much, I think? Like if one day we will look at him and realize he hasn’t been worth the trouble, and that we will just leave...” She paused for a moment and looked at Hermione, who didn’t seem to know what to say, “He regrets hurting you quite deeply, he was afraid you had died, Hermione. I think, mixed in with missing Sirius, and blaming himself, he’s afraid we blame him a little as well, that one day we’ll all be pushed too far with everything…”
“He told you this?” Hermione asked quietly.
Ginny scoffed, “I thought you knew Harry, Hermione. Of course he didn’t say that, at least not in so many words. But... he apologized to me so sincerely, as if he needed my affirmation that I wasn’t mad just as much as he needed to just… talk about Sirius.” They sat in silence for a moment as Hermione looked contemplative.
“Has -… has he ever apologized to you, Hermione?”
She shook her head, “He doesn’t need to, but no, we’ve never really discussed any of that. Not the Ministry, not Sirius. It would be very unlike him… and I suppose I haven’t really given him the opportunity to, what with… “she trailed off, blushing slightly. “But. I could see Harry fearing that, after last year, no one believing him, and the year before, when everyone thought he was lying about putting his name in the goblet, Ron especially -“
“Stupid Git”, Ginny interrupted, “I don’t know what you see in him.”
Hermione ignored this and plowed on, but blushed more furiously, “Harry’s never said anything, but it does make sense doesn’t it? That he would fear that?”
They sat in silence for a few moments. As heavy as this conversation felt with Hermione, it had felt so light with Harry. He had done most of the talking then, sure, but there was some joy to be felt at gaining his trust, at hearing his fears as she had shared her own, of having this piece of Harry that was hers and only hers, a piece that he had not even shared with Ron and Hermione. She had sat there, her back against his chest, his back propped against a tree at the edge of the lake, and she had listened intently as he spoke quietly into her ear, playing with her hair and her hands. She felt warm thinking about how she may have given him comfort in that moment, just being there, listening, commenting only briefly here and there to encourage him.
“It sneaks up on me sometimes,” he had whispered, his cheek pressed close to her as he rested his chin on her shoulder, “when the owls come into the Great Hall and I look up to see Hedwig even though I know she won’t be there - because Sirius was the only one to write me, but he’s gone now.” Then and there she vowed to herself that she would sneak up to the owlery next week and send him notes using his own owl every once in a while, if nothing else to send him a bit of the affection he was missing. “I replayed that night over and over in my mind for the first few weeks of summer, looking for what I could do better so that next time, no one would have to get hurt. No one. You wouldn’t have to hurt your ankle…” He had touched her ankle then and sent shivers down her spine “…. and Ron wouldn’t have those scars…” his hand moved up to her shoulder and down her arm then, “… and Hermione… Hermione was so hurt, she just crumpled, I couldn’t breathe until Neville said he could feel her pulse…” his hand lingered at her own pulse point in her wrist, as if confirming that she was really there, really in his arms, and Ginny was so sure he could feel the pounding of her heart in her chest betrayed by a rapid pulse in her wrist. He had lingered there for a long a moment before sliding his fingers between her own and clasping the hand that was resting comfortably on his bent knee, “It got better though, after I got to the Burrow and spent time with your family, with you. I was happy then, but not as happy as I am now.”
She had turned then and looked at him, he had a small, soft smile played across his lips, green eyes sharp, and she had leaned in and brushed her lips against one cheek first, then the other, then tilted her head and placed a kiss to his scar before resting her forehead against his. “I’m happy too, so happy” and their next kiss had been the softest and sweetest they shared. Not a kiss of impulse like the one shared in the Common Room, or the giddy stolen kisses they’d shared up to this point, but something more meaningful, more real, a promise.
“What are you thinking?” Hermione asked, interrupting Ginny’s thoughts. She realized she had begun grinning again, when had that happened?
“He’s a brilliant kisser” Ginny smirked, surprising a laugh out of Hermione. “Well he is! Michael sort of… pecked, lips tight like a chicken.” she grimaced, and Hermione laughed harder still. “Dean, well he wasn’t bad. I thought he was quite good actually. Most of the time really. But sometimes he’d get carried away with too much… tongue, like if he was trying to fit as much as possible into my mouth all at once.” It was Hermione’s turn to grimace now.
“and Harry?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ginny thought, “Gentle, but also not? Tentative maybe?”
“Kissing you in front of the whole Common Room wasn’t exactly tentative, Ginny.” Hermione pointed out and Ginny laughed.
“No I suppose not. It’s really indescribable. I mean he kissed me, and his lips are soft, and gentle, and he’d almost let me take the lead a bit, but he’d hold me firmly…” she trailed off for a moment, remembering that particularly sweet kiss under the tree, how his hand had cupped her jaw as their lips collided in slow, languid kisses before Ginny had felt him slide his tongue slowly along her lower lip, not as if he was asking for entrance, but as if he just wanted to taste more of her in that moment, and how wild the chills that had run across her body had driven her. It was seductive without trying to be, and she blushed as she remembered how quickly things had escalated after that with her eventually sitting with her legs on either side of his, their kiss deepening with occasional breaks for him to trail kisses up her jaw toward her ear and down her neck. Those kisses had been tentative, maddeningly so, and she had returned his kisses with enthusiasm, her hands running through his hair and up his shirt to feel the warmth of the skin on his chest. But his hands had never strayed from her waist, or arms, or hair. His touches had been gentle ghosts of his fingertips, but his grip on her waist and his arms wrapped around her had been firm, strong, steady. How was she supposed to describe that without explicitly detailing it to Hermione?
“With Harry, it’s not so much that he’s kissing me, but that we’re sharing a kiss.” She finally decided, and that seemed right.
“Did anything else happen?” Hermione asked, “You two were gone for ages!”
“Not really, and I suppose I’m glad we spent most of our time just talking and kissing this time around, but in the moment I really wanted more.”
“Not really? What exactly does that mean?” Hermione’s eyebrows rose up.
“Well… I did end up in his lap at one point… and well… he’s a boy so I could feel…. but my hands didn’t wander below his belt… but only because he looked half terrified.”
Hermione looked completely unsurprised but also as though she was trying very hard not to laugh at Ginny’s, and what Ginny was sure was Harry’s, discomfort. “Wandering hands there, Weasley?”
Ginny laughed, “A little on my part, but not on his. He didn’t even try, the noble prat. But if he had I wouldn’t have stopped him… and I definitely would have explored a bit more myself” she added with a wink. “But he probably has a few love bites courtesy of yours truly so I’m not too disappointed”.
“Ron’s going to kill him” Hermione half laughed.
“Yes, well, I wasn’t thinking about that at the time”
Hermione leaned forward and brought Ginny into a tight hug, “I’m so unbelievably happy for the two of you. I’m happy he plucked up the courage to finally do something, but….” and she pulled away, looking at Ginny, “I’m happy he talked to you Ginny. Harry’s….” She trailed off, seemingly not knowing what to say.
“Harry.” Ginny finished, just as Hermione supplied “Enigmatic”.
Enigmatic? Was he really? He seemed perfectly readable to Hermione with her knowing looks, and Ginny had no trouble having him open up to her this afternoon. He'd opened up to her without her trying, without her prompting him.
“I don’t know about that, Hermione, a little moody maybe, but enigmatic seems a bit rich coming from someone who would have won a lot of galleons from Fred and George had she placed a bet a couple of years back.”
“He doesn’t really talk about things, Ginny. Not really. He’s so, focused, so in tune with whatever he’s dealing with or worried about at that moment… I don’t… I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with him about anything from his past. Once something painful is over for Harry and he has something else to focus on, he doesn’t look back, not really. Even last year, with Cedric and the tournament, he only really talked about things because the Ministry calling him a liar was a threat, because no one believing that V- Voldemort was back was dangerous. I knew he was angry no one believed him because he was so snappish and broody all the time, not because he talked about how he felt about things. So, I’m glad you found each other. I’m glad he found you, that he talked to you… that you can get him to talk to you like that.”
Ginny could tell this had been concerning Hermione for a long time. She remembered what Harry was like when he had arrived to Grimmauld Place last summer, how angry he had been, how pained his face was when he arrived. How had it been for him to be stuck in a home with the muggles and given no one to talk to, nothing to do, nothing to focus on? Is that what he had gone through again for those two weeks before he came to the Burrow? Yet, he had told her he had found happiness there, happiness with her. Ginny was overwhelmed with the affection she was feeling and with her desire to make Harry happy, to be happy with him.
“Yeah, I’m happy too. Really, incredibly happy.”
Hermione beamed for a moment and hugged Ginny again. When she pulled away her face was suddenly stern, “Now then. Now that you two have figured things out, you really need to get back on your study schedule Ginny! A whole day of revising wasted!” Ginny groaned and threw her pillow at Hermione.