#hinnysmut

When night came, Harry barely remembered his commitment to Ginny, he took his shower, put on his pajama pants and kept his shirt off, the heat forcing him to do so. He and Ron talked about commonplace things and discussed the new magazine that his friend had purchased, which was far from familiar and educational.

‘‘I think she’s great’’ Seamus commented, tossed on his bed and looking at the page Ron had marked as the best of all

‘‘It’s the tattoo’’ Dean sighed ‘’Harry, what’s your opinion?’’ For some reason he thought Dean had questioned him mainly because he was on a tightrope about any answer he could give. Agree with that, Ron could end up with his balls, since he dated his younger sister. Not to agree, they would know he was lying, because Ashley was such a hot woman, there was no denying it, and even Ginny would confirm that.

He preferred to shrug ‘‘I think there are better’’ Basic, simple, and that implied that his girlfriend was in that circle - which was true, because only Merlin knows how many baths Harry has been taking lately.

When everyone finally decided to sleep, Harry closed his curtains, trying not to remember his girlfriend too much so he could really rest, but unable to avoid remembering her smell or the feeling of his kisses on her neck. Or when she was kneeling in the middle of his legs, reading a magazine and resting her head on one of his knees, looking barely paying attention to the fact that Harry was about to pass out.

‘‘Hey’’ Harry almost reached the bedroom ceiling when she whispered into his cubicle, Gin’s floating head popping out between the curtains as she smiled gloriously, raising her wand and casting protective spells over there. ‘’Nice chest’’ And with an almost idiotic shame, he pulled the cover up higher, protecting himself from the redhead who seemed to vibrate with excitement

''What the fuck are you doing here?'' She took off his cloak - which he didn't know how the hell she had stolen -, wore adorable pink shorts, not much shorter than he used to see her, the old shirt was a little tight and showing some of its creamy skin. Gin pulled the cloak off her body, and settling down beside him, smiling from ear to ear as she got comfortable on the other half of the pillow, right next to Harry still shocked

‘’Didn’t we agree?’’ Ginny wrapped her cold arm around his waist, pulling him to lie down again, burying her face in his bare chest. That at this point, it was echoing the violent beating of his heart ‘’You agreed with me’’

‘’I had my head on your breasts. I would agree to die’’ She laughed, shrugging and crawling up a little, coming face to face with him, noses a few inches away

‘’Please don’t agree to die just because it’s close to my breast’’ The brown eyes were quite dark due to the lack of light, but Harry could still see some of that caramel color that he loved so much. Only now, it looked a lot more like the color of the firewhiskey, and he would be drunk easily if they stayed that close.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ This time he laughed ‘’If Ron sees us ...’’

'' ..He's not going, we're protected'' Ginny came even closer, and instinctively he closed his eyes, smelling the delicious scent of flowers ''I just wanted to be with you, no worries that in a few minutes we need to run to some classroom or library ... Besides, I just need to get out of here a little bit before everyone wakes up, so we have a lot of time'' And she ended the distance, kissing him with an almost new calm, holding his face and tilting her body closer and closer to Harry's.

His hands were lost at the end of her spine, going down the delicious curve that ended in her soft ass, then passing through the firm thighs and staying there, before going up all over again and strolling through the ribs and stopping on the side of her left breast, who without much effort, Harry realized was unprotected from a bra. He groaned in his girlfriend's mouth, just at the thought.

"You're going to be the cause of my death," Ginny laughed, rolling them around until Harry was on his back on the mattress and she could mount him with agility, moving away from his lips and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen .

''I'm happy to be me and not any other girl. Or the you-know-who’’ Harry smiled, happy that they were there, blinking almost anesthetized at the sight of her in his lap

''So do I, '' He admitted, like a fool in love who was ''You look beautiful'' He meant that he was never worried about his future, or any shit related to Horcrux when he was beside her, that he never he was as peaceful and happy as he was in those last days, that he never felt so ... alive. He also meant that he loved her, and that he was terrified of that feeling because he had never experienced anything like it.

''You're looking at me like that funny'' Even in the darkness, he could see her blush ''Stop it'' Ginny laughed, covering her boyfriend's face with her hands, and Harry bet his fortune that she looked like a tomato at that moment

‘’Can’t I say you’re beautiful anymore?’’ He would laugh next to her, spread her hands and look at her again

‘’No, I prefer you to kiss me’’ Harry who wouldn’t argue against that argument, leaning over to grab it again and get back to the common snogging between the two.

But it didn't seem like that was in Ginny's mind, not when she curiously ran her hands down Harry's bare chest and scraped her nails on the small dark hair path under his navel, over his pajamas and making him lose his breath

‘’Gin ... ’’ It sounded more like a snarl, the small hand touching him there, seeming to discover his entire territory, and consequently making him wake up completely.

‘’Let me do this’’ She asked, sucking on that tender spot behind his ear ‘‘I want to know what it’s like’’ Harry could die now, he decided, his balls retracting with the light feather stroke she was giving him

The kisses continued, much more fervent and hotter than they had ever been, Harry let his hands roam around her sides and with an impulsiveness that only came when he was close to Ginny, he grabbed her delicious breasts, as if they were the two most valuable snitch from the world, moaning at the sensation of softness against his rough hand and almost burning when she did the same in his mouth.

The caresses continued and Ginny started to move her hips in an almost deadly friction with Harry, looking inert to the movements she was making.

‘’Teach me’’ She asked euphorically, biting his lip before opening her burning eyes. Harry winced when her hand ventured into his already tight underwear.

Not knowing if he would be able to speak, he dropped one hand until he found hers, looking intently at his girlfriend as he wrapped her fingers around his own, squeezing a little more and adjusting to be as he liked, barely able to breathe when they started the movements together.

Tempted to simply close his eyes and fall back on the bed, Harry forced himself to continue exploring Ginny, because as much as it was delicious to feel her jerking off to him, the boy didn't want to be the only one to feel that happy.

''If you do that I won't be able to concentrate'' She moaned as he kissed her freckled collarbone, while his left hand also curiously dropped to the middle of her legs, feeling incredibly big and powerful when he realized that Ginny it was hot and humid.

'' We can handle it'' He kissed her mouth again ''I also need you to teach me'' Harry swallowed the grunt when Ginny's fingers ran under his balls, massaging them with a little care, as if she didn't know whether she was doing it right or not ''Fuck!'' His eyes rolled with sensation, his hips pushing up and making him lose consciousness for a few seconds

Ginny's free hand helped him into her panties, which meant that she had to get out of his lap and lie down on his side again, one leg still wrapped around his waist so he could gain space. Her folds were soft and slippery, and Harry did his best to remember when Seamus had brought that book about female anatomy, struggling to find Ginny's clitoris.

‘’Harry ... ’’ She moaned when he finally found it, squeezing it a little harder and almost making him come

''Gin .. '' He bit her shoulder, trying to contain himself with excitement as he adjusted to the pace that seemed to please the redhead, who started to become really noisy, moving her hips harder, her hand on Harry's cock gaining the same speed as his fingers.

‘’Harry’’ She moaned when he left only his thumb on her clitoris, curiously placing a finger inside it, which she squeezed like a vise, so hot that Harry thought he might be burned. They were no longer able to kiss or articulate coherent words, Harry was totally worried about not coming until he made Ginny at least get close

''Slow down if you don't want me to finish before you do'' He whispered a little lost, being very brave and putting another finger inside her, before heard her swallow a scream and then take it off quickly, feeling like an idiot for doing that ''Sorry!''

‘‘Don’t worry, put it on again’’ Ginny loosened her grip on his cock a little, finally looking at him, looking like a fucking Greek goddess in front of him. And Harry followed her request, hearing she moan gloriously as she pressed herself against his fingers

‘’I swear I’m going to pass out’’ He spoke again as soon as she combined the rhythm of his fingers with her hand. She laughed, looking a lot more amused than Harry thought appropriate for that moment

''Sorry, but I said I was going to lose my concentration'' And then they started kissing again, calmer, but without losing the rhythm of their hands, both of them climbing up to that cliff that looked too tempting not to jump, Harry coming there first, in a cut groan that seemed to break his skin, a thousand times better than any handjob alone in the bath, making him have blurred vision and lose his strength, letting his face fall in the curve of Ginny's neck, like a drunk after many firewhisky bottles.

Tempted to make her feel the same, he continued his work on his girlfriend, feeling her tighter and tighter, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she moaned in his ear, her chest rising unevenly and his name coming out in the last seconds before finally coming, getting much more slippery and wet, as well as being red as fire.

Harry never thought she was as beautiful as she was then.

‘’That ... ’’ Ginny lowered her leg from Harry’s waist, swallowing hard as she looked at him in awe

‘’I hope your spell is really good’’ And as if only now she realized where she was, she opened her eyes wide, putting her hand over her mouth and blushing even more

"Did you ever wonder if we made too much noise?" Harry took his wand, cleaning up the mess they had made and then adjusting her and his pajamas before covering them again - at some point, the blanket had been tossed away from the bed - returning to settle on her soft breasts, feeling the happiest man in the world

''Your brother would have come here to kill me, you can be sure'' Harry assured me ''Gin, I ... '' Then he stopped, thinking that he couldn't lock her up like that, not when - now that his consciousness was finally back - he didn't know if he could be alive tomorrow. It would be unfair, and he would never forgive himself ‘’How did you get my cloak?’’ She smiled, snuggling closer and wrapping one of her legs around his waist, as if he were a big pillow

''I have my secrets .. '' Ginny kissed his forehead, not far from the scar, but none of them noticed, not at that moment at least, and Harry couldn't explain why he felt so safe and ... loved, but he was too tired to dissect his own mind.

She didn’t understand why it was so difficult to be apart from him. Last year had been excruciating- the hours spent writhing in pain, the uncertainty whether she’d ever see him again, a war that seemed endless, and an enemy that, at the darkest hour, seemed invincible. It should be easier now, she thought. Easier now that the war had been won. Easier now that they could write to one another. Easier now that she knew, with absolute certainty, that he loved her.

But it wasn’t. Not on nights like this where she lay behind the velvet bed curtains, listening to the sounds of soft breathing and snoring around her, unable to sleep because she missed him terribly. It wasn’t easier when Luna said something ridiculous and she instinctively looked for him to exchange a grin with, or when she was out on the pitch, expecting his rumbling voice to yell out when someone made a bad play or flew out of position.

And now that Hogwarts felt like a school again, rather than a prison, it was all too easy to hear his strangled moans and gasps when she walked past the shade of the copse of trees by the lake shore. To imagine the taste of his mouth in an empty corridor. Too easy to remember the feel of him, pressed up against her on the rough stone wall of the broom cupboard.

What made it harder, she thought, as she lay in the cold, midnight stillness, was that she now knew exactly what she was missing. She no longer had to imagine, to piece together what it might be like to be with him from those few shining weeks of kisses and stolen touches. She knew the electric heat she felt when he gently stroked between her legs. The whispered murmurs of encouragement, his voice low in her ear, as he touched her. She knew what it felt like to lay on her back, just like she was now, with his mouth on her, his tongue swirling and lapping. The intensity in his darkened eyes as he gazed up at her, the feel of her hands fisting in his soft hair. She knew exactly what felt like when he slid into her, the fullness, that delicious pressure when he moved in her. And she knew what it felt like to lay in bed with him after, her head resting on his bare chest, his arms wrapped around her, his voice telling her he loved her.

She knew it was silly to miss him this much, that in a few months, she’d be done with school, and they could be together in the way they both wanted- in the way she had secretly always wanted, though even thinking of the possibility last year was too painful. Soon they would be coming home to each other at the end of the day, cooking meals together, having lazy lie ins on weekend mornings, no longer having to sneak around to avoid her parents or her brothers.

But she couldn’t shake the fear that this was all too perfect, that something would come along and pop the shining soap bubble of this life with him. She tried to push these thoughts aside, because god knows, Harry was fatalistic enough for the both of them. But the fear persisted, niggling at the back of her mind, coming to the forefront in the still, dark night- fear that he wouldn’t come home from a mission, that something would happen to him, that she would never get to experience the life she pictured, which was so close she could almost taste it.

And she wanted it, badly, more than anything, more than even Quidditch or the Harpies. She wanted to see him at the end of the aisle, to watch him cradling a newborn, to walk together with him on a sandy shore, surrounded by laughter and children. She realized that her fear was not just that something would happen to him, but that if something did, she would never be able to have these things, because she knew enough now to know what it would be like to share her life with him, knew enough to know that she could never be satisfied with less, that she couldn’t ever settle for someone who wasn’t Harry.

The little voice in the back of her head told her that she was only seventeen, that she shouldn’t think like this, but she couldn’t switch off the fear as she lay in the dark. She felt a lump form in her throat and bit the inside of her cheek, willing herself out of her current thoughts.

She took a deep breath, and thought of Harry, his eyes, his lips, his hands. She thought of him doing all those things to her that she no longer had to imagine, the feel of his hands and his mouth on her, of him inside her. Her hand instinctively slid into her knickers, her finger tracing slow circles. She imagined that it was him there, doing this to her. She could almost hear his voice, low in her ear, whispering that she was beautiful, that he’d wanted this for so long, how much he missed her, that he loved her. She gave herself over to the feeling, the tingling, buzzing pleasure that began to crest inside her. And soon, like a wave, it crashed over her. As she removed her hand, shuddering, she felt relief.

The little voice in the back of her head sounded again, stronger this time, more like herself. He’s Harry, it said, he will always come back to you. He’d do anything to come back to her, she knew that, he already had once. You’ll write to him tomorrow, it said. You’ll see him in Hogsmeade next month and for Easter holidays. You’ll be with him each night in half a year’s time.

They’d spent three sunlit weeks engaging in this weird little… habit…  but if Ginny’s being honest, she and Harry have probably been doing it much, much longer. Back then, though, they’d been too inexperienced to know what they were playing at with their banter and whispering and finger-light touches across bare skin.

Now they’re older. Now they shag — and quite a lot, save for the last ten days. Now they’re nearly married. And while they’ve never had an outright conversation on the topic, turning each other on in public has become a downright competition. Nothing is off-limits, either — including family events. Much like the one they're currently attending.

To celebrate Arthur’s fiftieth birthday, Ron booked an executive box at Anfield, home of Liverpool Football Club. Several months ago, this had seemed a brilliant idea; everyone (even Harry and Ginny) had been eager to see the joyful look on Dad’s face, to hear his earnest questions, to watch him marvel over muggle technologies without fear of being overheard by the general public. But at the time, neither Harry nor Ginny had known that said match would fall smack in between Harpies playoffs and a particularly time-consuming case at the Ministry.

So it goes without saying that Ginny’s… distracted. Very distracted. Extremely distracted. And for the first half of the Liverpool match, she’d convinced herself that her general disinterest in football had caused her drift in attention.

After all, Ginny’s a professional athlete. She spends most of her time thinking about quidditch. She devotes hours to analyses on ducking and diving and kicking and swerving; she spends countless days training and stretching and preparing until she’s at peak performance. Thus, when she is off work, sport is the last bloody thing she wants to think about.

Alas, here is where she has to be a little more honest, though… because boredom with football isn’t the only reason she doesn’t care about the match.

She shifts uncomfortably in her plush seat, glancing at her fiancé from the corner of her eye. Naturally, they’d been playing their own game since they’d arrived nearly forty-five minutes ago, and although she’s loath to admit it, Harry’s winning. In between various familial interferences, amid Bill’s raucous cheers and Ron’s pedantic explanation of fouls, Harry had steadily tortured her — in the most Harry way possible.

The second they’d stepped foot in the executive box, he’d pulled her into a seat in the back row, his fingers dancing over the swell of her arse. When her father hadn’t been pumping them with questions, Harry had taken every chance to lean over and whisper important football things into her ear. She’d erupted in gooseflesh when he’d traced game plays on the skin of her arm, when he’d toyed with the ring on her left hand.

But the moment she’d hinted at growing arousal by letting out a breathy gasp and rubbing her thighs together, Harry had abruptly withdrawn his hand from her forearm. He’d stopped, right in his tracks, the smirk dangling from his lips the only sign he’d done anything at all.

To Ginny, this almost qualifies as playing dirty: They haven’t shagged in ages, the bloody sport at hand isn’t even quidditch, and she can’t even use omnioculars to get a better view of the field. She’s not sure who’s expected her to behave for this long, really, under the circumstances; if this little game were being refereed, Harry surely would have a red card. Or a yellow card. Or whatever the hell the cards are.

Still, Ginny’s never been a graceful loser; giving up before she’s turned the tables is out of the question. So for the past five minutes, she’s been sitting ramrod straight, pretending to focus her attention on the little men running across the field while she waits for her opportunity to strike.

All the while, Harry’s arm has been draped over her shoulders, his left leg propped on his right. To anyone else, he’d appear a doting, kind fiance who loves spending time with his family. Ginny knows him better, though. His smile isn’t content — it’s triumphant. He’s sending her a very, very clear message: I’ve already won, so you’d might as well concede.

She turns to him with a sad sigh; he’s grown too cocky for his own good. Poor, poor Harry… pride always has been his downfall. Surely he must understand that she’s simply biding her time, that she’s used the past five minutes to collect herself, that she’s waiting for the perfect moment.  

And after nearly an hour of torture, the tide is turning in her favor. A tinny-voiced announcer informs them it’s half-time, which means people will get up. It also means that she’ll be able to carry out the next phase of her plan, because Ron (who has lingered close to Harry all day) finally rises from his seat and mutters something about checking on the food.

Ginny’s no Ravenclaw, but it would take a real numpty to ignore a sign of this magnitude. Granted, she ensures that Ron has left before she starts. Not getting caught is another one of their unspoken rules, much like never outright kissing; as much as Ginny enjoys their game, she’d sooner die than reveal it to her family.

Which is why it’s so key that she knows Harry as well as she does. She arches her back and pretends to massage a muscle in her shoulder. Harry reacts immediately — although in the nearly imperceptible Harry way that someone else wouldn’t notice: He merely sits up a smidgen straighter and pretends to focus more on the match.

Ginny smirks, rotating her shoulders. This will be easier than she thought.

“Getting comfortable, Mrs. Potter?” Harry rumbles, a vein ticking in his jaw.

Ginny sucks in a breath, pressing her thighs together again. She hadn’t expected him to bring that one out. At least not so soon.

She needs to rally — and fast.

She clears her throat and adjusts in her seat until their knees are touching. “You’re rather comfortable using that title,” she ponders, tracing her finger tip down Harry’s forearm. Light touch has driven him mad since he was sixteen — and based on the way he’s tensed beside her, his Adam’s apple bobbing, it hasn’t failed her yet.

When her nails graze a tendon, and she feels rather than sees Harry swallow… and deems it safe to move in for the next phase of the attack. “A lot can happen in two months,” Ginny purrs, leaning to brush her breasts against Harry’s arm. “By then, I might’ve become Mrs. Thomas instead!”

But Harry just laughs at this and leans in, too; Ginny feels an irrational surge of disappointment that her attempt at making him jealous hasn’t worked.

“You have a point there, Mrs. Potter. I’m not terribly concerned, though.”

“No?”

“Nah,” he replies, his voice so casual you’d think he was discussing laundry. Then, in a flash, he shifts until his lips are caressing the shell of her ear — and Ginny already knows she’s in trouble, even before he places his palm on the seat, right in the gap between her thighs.

“Cause let’s be reasonable,” Harry adds, his voice dropping to a growl. “We both know how badly you want Potter on the back of your kit while I fuck you in the locker room.”

Fuckkkk.

Ginny exhales raggedly, her eyes fluttering closed. Merlin, she hates it when he’s right. She also hates it when he thinks he’s pulled one over on her — which Harry definitely thinks he’s done.

Fortunately, it’s been ten days for both of them. It shouldn’t take… much. So she clears her throat, sits up straighter, and reaches for the elastic of her hair. Just a little tug, and — yesss. Her hair springs free, cascading down her shoulders; a stray red tendril brushes against Harry’s arm, just as Ginny had intended — and she milks every bloody second of it. She tosses her head back, raking her fingers through it, refusing to stop until—

“Unfair,” Harry moans to her right. It comes out somewhere between a plea and a whine, and a wry grin dashes across Ginny’s face. He has a thing for her hair: He knows it, she knows it, and she reckons everyone else knows it, because while Harry Potter is good at many things, he’s absolute shite at pretending he’s not turned on. As if on cue, he clears his throat and steals a furtive glance around them before deeming it safe to make a necessary trouser adjustment.

Good, Ginny thinks, arching an eyebrow as he squirms in his seat. He’s learned to keep his hands to himself.

But as uncomfortable as Harry is, he hasn’t quite surrendered… not yet. He’s close, though. So close. All it would take, in fact, would be—

“FOOD!” Ron bellows from somewhere to Ginny’s left. She releases a string of violent swears as she and Harry jolt apart, each jumping about a meter in the air. Fucking hell. Ginny loves her brother, really, she does — but she’d long ago concluded that she doesn’t always like him.

And now is definitely, definitely one of those times.

Harry seizes upon her brother’s interruption as she’d known he would. In a flash, he’s already leapt to his feet and rushed to accept the tray of food. His strategy is simple (and not to mention transparent): He’s getting as far away from her as he can, hoping the distance will… cool his ardor. Of course, Harry also knows he’s left her in a smoldering puddle, all while maintaining his wide-eyed facade of innocence. And helpfulness.

Ginny doesn’t exactly mind the view, though. Even if she knows Harry’s playing it up. She admires his backside as he and Ron travel through the executive box to distribute the fancy ordered food for everyone, and though they haven’t said a word, Harry knows she’s staring.

He takes his time, too. Which makes it worse. He painstakingly chooses snacks for everyone in their row: A packet of crisps for Bill, a fruit cup for Victoire (who’s off getting a nappy change), a bottle of water for Fleur, who’s still trying to ‘return to ‘er figure.’ Harry takes so long, actually, and bends over so often that Ginny begins to feel a bit deflated. Halftime’s nearly over, and she’s wondering if she shouldn’t have waited to whip out the elastic hair move. But just as she’s kicking herself for not paying closer attention to the game clock, Harry finally turns around… and a catlike grin creeps across her face.

Because Harry’s coming back to his seat. And he’s holding a massive ice cream sundae, complete with two spoons.

Poor Harry, she thinks again as he settles in beside her. The game’s beginning again and everyone’s returning to their seats, but based on his smug smile, he still thinks he’ll win. Harry’s surely planned to perform many unspeakable acts on that ice cream spoon to tempt her into conceding… but she’s got something up her sleeve. (And not that Harry’s oral skills aren’t spectacular — because they are. He’s world fucking class at that, if she’s being honest… but she also knows that her fiancé has a particular weakness. One she plans to exploit.)

She’ll let Harry have his fun, though. For now. He leans back in the seat and lifts the spoon, licking the ice cream and chocolate away with a few passes of his tongue. His jaw moves in fascinating ways, and she knows what he really wants to do… what they both want him to do. But Ginny’s not going down without a fight.

The moment Harry returns the spoon to the dish for the third time, a fight breaks out on the field — a beautiful, fortuitous fight that seems like quite the scandal. Everyone gasps and rushes to the glass for a better look, pushing over each other in their haste, and Ginny seizes her chance.

“Mm, can I have some?” she asks. Harry snaps his head from the ruckus in front of them, but he’s too taken with it all to expect what she’s got planned; he lets out a startled moan as she shifts forward — and in one swift motion, she brushes her breasts against Harry’s arm. And plunges his fingers into the dish.

“Oops,” she says, wincing. “Seems I need to… clean you up!”

And with that, Ginny bats her eyelashes, reaches for Harry’s hand, and slides his ice cream-covered fingers between her lips.

His response is instantaneous. And perfect. Harry grits his jaw as his eyes flutter shut, as her tongue flicks and swirls over his fingers. They both know what she’s reminding them of — what she’s mimicking. She’s harkening back to a particularly happy hour at Hogwarts when they’d been enjoying a picnic. When he’d gotten some treacle tart on his fingers, she’d shoved them into her mouth, just like she’s doing now…

Harry’s a bit better at containing himself than he’d been at 16. But not much. As is, he’s staring at her through heavy-lidded eyes as her tongue darts out to clean off all the ice cream — or at least this is the excuse she’d give anyone who approached. She flicks her tongue across his knuckle in earnest, and Harry releases that deep, primal growl she loves so much. Victory is so close she can taste it. It’s a heady feeling, being this close to winning — and she’s bloody basking in it. Yesss, she thinks, hollowing her cheeks… she’s won. And as her fiance stares at her, a delirious look of arousal and resignation in his eyes, Ginny grins around his fingers. Because she’d might as well be gripping the snitch from mid-air. With every shuddering exhale of his chest, she can almost feel the cool metal against her palm, the fluttering wings beating against her closed fingers… and she’s close… so close…

Harry’s Adams’s apple bobs one last time, and when his lips part, she knows — just knows — he’s about to give her the confirmation she needs. He’s going to give up.

But Ginny really should have remembered her earlier musings on pride… and she also should have remembered that Harry knows her better than literally anyone else. Karma has a funny way of surprising you, eh?

Just as Harry’s about to concede, just as she can taste victory as surely as she can taste chocolate, a lilting French accent pierces through the air, followed by a tiny giggle…

No. Ginny freezes, clutching at Harry’s arm, but it’s no use… it’s no bloody use. Almost as if she’s watching the events unfold from far away, Ginny stares as Fleur and Victoire appear behind Harry’s shoulder. Her stomach sinks to her toes, gooseflesh erupting absolutely everywhere, because—

No.

Ginny gasps, her eyes wide in horror, as three things happen in quick succession, much faster than she can run interference: First, Harry’s fingers drop from her mouth. Second, he wipes his hand on his trousers, leaping to his feet… and third, he holds out his hands to—

Nonononono. He wouldn’t fucking dare. He wouldn’t...

But he’s doing it, she numbly realizes. He’s going there.

And with that, Harry turns to face her, a smug smirk perched on his lips… lips he then bows to the crown of Victoire’s baby-soft blonde curls. A beaming Fleur shoots Ginny a wistful look from over Harry’s shoulder, but Ginny can only shudder, her whole body rigid, as his muscled forearms press the baby to his front.

Fucking Merlin…

A tendon juts across Harry’s arm as he jostles the nine-month-old like it’s the most casual thing in the world… he easily turns and chats with Fleur, even as he bounces Victoire. It’s so natural, so fluid, and Ginny doesn’t know why, but that’s even sexier — that he’s capable of talking about boring things like Ministry paperwork or cauldron bottoms. While he’s holding an infant.

Fuck.

Ginny’s mouth goes dry, and she numbly realizes she’s been staring slack-jawed for the past several minutes. But really, where the hell had he learned that little trick? Who’d taught him that one-legged shift from foot to foot, his legs bending slightly at the knees? Well, Ginny doesn’t know who his instructor was — but she’s torn between wanting to kiss this stranger and wanting to punish them. And then, an even worse thought occurs to her: Is it possible Harry’s just learned this on his own?

She can’t recall him being so natural with Teddy… but it’s been quite a while since Teddy was this small. Teddy’s a toddler now, almost too big to be held — and certainly big enough to have objections about being held. Has Harry always possessed this secret skill? Ginny doesn’t know… but she can’t deny that Victoire seems quite content in his arms. Her niece has settled beneath Harry’s chin, her blue eyes filled with wonder, her mouth releasing the tiniest baby sigh...

In retrospect, perhaps Ginny could have stayed like that exact space, caught in some limbo between losing and winning. If only Harry hadn’t done something unintentional. And with said unintentional move, he absolutely scores a screamer, just as a Liverpool player does, too.

Because the instant before the crowd erupts in raucous cheers, Harry’s lashes flutter shut, a lazy smile drifting across his face. He’s at peace. Totally, utterly happy.

And Ginny fucking loses it.

She’s up in a half-second, her pride abandoned as quickly as her seat. She hasn't outright told Harry about this little… predicament… with him holding babies. Like everything else, though, he’s inferred it on his own. He must’ve seen the dreamy look steal across her features when he’d held Victoire, or perhaps he’d noticed the way she’d gripped his hand afterwards as something primal had moved in her chest.

Whatever he’d noticed, though, was pure evil — mostly because she knows that he hadn’t even intended the worst of it. Like having the nerve to look completely content while he’d held a baby.

To Ginny, this means one thing: Harry has a secret weapon, something up his sleeve that he might unleash at any time. And there’s nothing she’ll ever be able to do about that, because even he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Harry does know, though, what that Ginny’s blazing expression means as she takes three heated steps towards him, her chest heaving. Fortunately, the universe hasn’t turned against her completely, either — because as soon as Ginny reaches Harry, Liverpool scores a massive goal; the executive box erupts as loudly as the rest of the crowd. It’s easy for him to hand Victoire back to her mummy under the guise of protecting her from the noise, but Ginny doesn’t miss the way Harry tenses and swallows, his eyes darting to her flushed chest. Fleur accepts the baby with a smile — but not before she shoots Ginny a knowing wink from over her shoulder.

Still, the look on Fleur’s face says it all: I’ll cover. And with that, Ginny almost forgives her sister-in-law for handing Harry a baby in the bloody first place.

The screamer from Liverpool proves a perfectly timed distraction; the joyous celebrations go on for ages, much longer than excitement over quidditch goals. The Weasleys leap to their feet, their cries echoing far louder than anything Ginny might whisper. So with that, she grips her fiancé’s hands in hers, stands on her tiptoes, and leans into his ear — all in such a rapid ferocity that even Harry looks a little surprised.

“The snitch is yours,” she concedes breathily, her voice drowned out by the surrounding applause. Various family members stomp and clap around them as Harry’s body freezes, a roar tumbling from his lips — but Harry doesn’t need to be told again. Before Ginny knows which way is up, he’s tugging hand towards the door, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark… and even though she’s definitely lost this round, Ginny can’t help but take his low groan as a consolation prize.

__________

Two minutes later, they stumble into the loo stall in a frantic blur of hands and mouth. As always, Harry handles the magic; they both know his focus (while randy as hell) is much better than hers. Which isn’t saying much. Nonetheless, he takes out his wand, locks the door from over his shoulder, and performs a cleaning spell, all while she kisses his neck.

“Thank Merlin for private loos,” Harry groans, setting his wand down on the counter as her hands slide beneath his shirt.

Ginny scoffs and busies herself with his trousers. “Thank Merlin for cheating to win, you mean!”

Harry releases a chuckle that becomes a moan as she unbuckles his jeans and slips her hand inside the flap of his boxers.

“Well, Mrs. Potter,” Harry manages, even as she grips him in her fist and gives a tight squeeze. Ginny leans in to nibble below his jaw, beginning slow, even strokes up and down — the sort designed to torture him.

“Fuckkk… ahhh — let’s not be a sore loser now!” His voice breaks on the end, just as her thumb finds the bead of wetness at the tip of his cock. Good, Ginny thinks as Harry begins thrusting into her hand. It’s about time she’s got the bloody upper hand. So to speak.

Then Harry lets out a grunt, his hand jutting out to still her wrist. She peers up at him through her lashes, but Ginny already knows why he’s stopped.

“If you want to have fun too,” he admits, chest heaving, “you have to stop that.”

Ginny smirks and presses herself against him, relishing in Harry’s shudder as the fabric from her shirt grazes his cock. “And how’ve you kept yourself busy the past ten days?”

Harry’s eyes flash with mirth — but that’s absolutely the only warning she gets before he’s sinking to his knees, pulling her trousers and knickers down. Ginny hisses and arches her back, preparing to grip his thick black hair… but it seems he has other plans.

“Later, love,” Harry promises, pressing a kiss to her thigh — and with a wink, he descends on Ginny’s mouth once more. And thank Merlin, she thinks as he grips her arse in his palms and steps back until she’s sitting on the counter, until his cock is just brushing against her heat… because she loves it when he takes what he wants.

Harry’s hands dip to her clit as he leaves a row of kisses along her jaw, sucking and nibbling as he moves, but Ginny’s just about had enough torture for one day. So with that, she quirks an eyebrow, wraps her legs around his waist, and deliberately slides him inside her in one fluid movement.

They both release ragged moans at the contact, their chests heaving although they haven’t even begun. Harry’s eyes are slammed shut, his fingers grip her arse with an almost bruising intensity. But Ginny quite likes an almost bruising intensity... so she doesn’t mind. She loves it, actually, how he still freezes every single time he’s fully inside of her. Like he can’t quite believe his luck.

A second later, Harry’s faces relaxes; she knows that look well, too. He’s pulled himself back from the brink, just in the nick of time. And she’d be content to keep teasing him, really, but then he opens his eyes — and they’re filled with so much passion and intensity that they take her breath away.

Ginny’s lips curl in wry resignation, but she doesn’t fight it. Harry doesn’t just want to fuck; he wants to make love... even in a stadium toilet.

“Been too long,” he murmurs, confirming her thoughts. “Too long without you, and—”

Ginny interrupts him with a kiss. “Later, love,” she mimics, nipping at his jaw as she locks her legs. If given the chance, Harry would wax poetic about his feelings — even right here, right now.

He chuckles, but complies with a sheepish grin. They both know they’ll have time for all that later — for whispers and caresses and confessions of longing. Now, though, things are more pressing; like always, they’re on the same page.

Harry stares at her again, bracing his palms on his hips, and without breaking eye contact for a single second, he begins even, measured thrusts… the sort designed to push her straight over the brink. A moan falls from her lips as he grazes against her clit with the base of his cock… and this, Ginny thinks, beginning to whimper in earnest, is one benefit of knowing each other very, very well…

He knows exactly how to hold her in place so that the hits her clit with every snap of his hips. He knows the perfect pattern to swirl and lift to get her off the fastest. But most importantly, Harry knows what to do that doesn’t involve sex at all — and these things make all the difference. So as he continues thrusting and swirling inside her, gripping her arse, he leans in to her ear and starts in on the familiar litany of panting whispers.

“Fuck, Ginny, you get me so hard," Harry grunt, his breath stirring the tendrils around her ears. She mewls, her arms draped around his neck, and they both know she’s close. “I thought about you every day,” he adds on a groan, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “about being inside you, just like this.”

She answers with a moan as he pulls back to stare into her eyes, as his hips provide the perfect friction against her clit… and just as the first ripples of her orgasm take her over, he utters five words that absolutely shatter her, right on the spot.

“Come for me, Mrs. Potter,” Harry growls into her ear, surging inside her a final time — and with that, Ginny shatters. She cries out a garbled version of his name, throwing her head back as the world explodes around her. It’s an orgasm that goes on so long she scarcely remembers who she is… the sort that leaves her weak and panting as incoherent words tumble from her lips. I love you is the only phrase she recognizes as the waves crest again and again, but the second she says it, she feels Harry reach his peak, too.

With a roar, he stiffens and spills himself inside her, and Ginny sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. Even now, she’s amazed she has this effect on him. It never ceases to astound her that he cares for her as much as she cares for him, that her orgasms always trigger his… and when he finally lifts his head to look at her again, she’s not surprised that his eyes look a little misty.

Ginny offers him a tender kiss, but she knows from the strain across Harry’s brow that he’s probably rather uncomfortable in this position. So she winces in apology, unwraps her legs from his waist and steps down onto the cool tile floor. With that, they untangle their limbs and clean themselves off, preparing to return to her family as if nothing happened.

“Think I’ll keep these,” Harry says a moment later. She turns around, confused… but of course. Harry’s casually leaning on the sink counter, her white lace knickers dangling from the end of his finger. “This is my trophy, I reckon.”

“Fine.” She shrugs and tugs her trousers on, making a great show of shimmying her arse in the process. Harry pointedly clears his throat as she does — which she’d intended; this victory will be much more uncomfortable for him, after all.

Ginny shoots him a final wink as they lace their hands together and push the door open. An easy grin has returned to Harry’s face, his hair looking only slightly messier than normal; they look relatively composed, she thinks, for a couple who just shagged in the loo.

“Ah, look!” Harry says as they turn a corner. A television screen down the corridor displays the score of the game.

“D’you think Liverpool have scored again?” he asks, swinging their hands, “Or maybe—?”

But Ginny interrupts him with a sigh, stopping dead in her tracks.

“I’m serious, though!” Harry says earnestly, nodding to the screen. “Your dad would love to see them win, and—"

Then, in a verbatim repetition of what she’d done after he’d asked her out all those years ago, Ginny turns to face him, drapes her arms around his neck, and gives him a plain stare.

 ''I haven't seen you in a few years ... so, have you been to the lake? Dad did a great job of gardening in those parts’’. Of course he had gone there. In fact, he had seen it closely for the past two summers, and really, it was quite serene with all the flowers, cut grass and nearby stone path. 

 ''I didn't see,'' he joked, ignoring when George or Bill looked twice at their interaction. 

"Oh! I'll have to show you then.'' She stood up, smoothing her dress before looking at it again, those eyes that looked like they had been dipped in chocolate, looking radiant and excited by the escape. ''Come with me?'' Ginny offered an arm, and Harry couldn't help but laugh; it was hard not to say no to her, even when there were all those other thoughts lurking around him. War, his mission, Voldemort, Dumbledore's true story ... Ginny always gave him peace. 

We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

 ''Do you want a drink before we go?'' He offered as they passed a plate that levitated with glasses full of glimmering liquid. 

 ''Sure, why not?'' Ginny approached, and in her high heels, she could easily reach his ear to whisper. ''Don't tell my mum. She won't be pleased.'' Harry nodded, taking two before heading out of the tent, knowing that only the Weasley brothers were looking at him. 

 He would deal with them later. 

 The night was lovely, with bearable weather and stars dotting the sky. A wind swayed the trees and Ginny's dress slightly, but nothing that required a cape or warm clothing. Which Harry liked, because the redhead's legs beside him were too beautiful to be hidden by pants. 

'’You look beautiful,'' he commented, sipping the drink. He didn't know exactly what it was, only that it was bubbly, with a hint of sweetness and a refreshing aftertaste. 

 ''Thank you. Fleur has good taste.'' The two continued walking in companionable silence, without many intrusive thoughts, just enjoying what seemed to be the last night of peace. ''I didn't give you a birthday present.'' They finally arrived at the lake. The moon shone in the reflection of the clear water, the night glittering on the surface, making Ginny's skin glow even more gloriously, her eyes shining just like her dress. It was breathtaking. 

 "No need. I'm happy just being a part of things.'' The music was just an unknown, almost imperceptible noise, and Harry liked that silence. 

 ''You look good, too, by the way.'' 

 Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you Oh damn, never seen that color blue

''Even though it's kind of weird to be talking to you in that way'' He laughed, nodding awkwardly and blushing, hating that his skin was so clear that body and showed too much of his blush

''It'll be over soon ... we have more ... fifteen minutes before I go back to being Harry Potter'' His voice sounded like he said it wasn't that important, but Ginny didn't favor it, as her chin and eyebrows advanced smiling corner

''I will wait fifteen minutes before I can kiss you then'' And as if it doesn't include anything here, she bent down to take off her heels and sit on the grass, sinking her feet into the water ''Come on, I don't want to be alone'' He followed, rising like pants to the knee and taking off shoes and like stockings, sitting next to you and feeling the skin cool when you sank it, sighing with regretful temperature change

"Hm .. about the kiss .. I .."

''..I'm not going to kiss someone who looks like my brothers'' Harry laughed, biting his lip and looking back at his feet, feeling some moss on his shin

''I don't think I would like to kiss you while I'm like this'' Was it sincere, looking at her ''Do you want to swim?'' Where had this idea come from?

He blamed her, as well as that strange drink and all this feeling that it was the last time.

''Yes​​'' Ginny seemed to hesitate a little before speaking ''But you'll have to take care of me later, you know, making my hair dry and everything back in place, because Fleur and my mom will die if they see me dripping water and all blurry''

''At your service''

Then they started to undress, and Harry had already swam a few times with Ginny, but seeing her in a swimsuit was quite different from seeing her in her underwear, and his mind seemed to find the pieces highly entertaining, creating very specific scenarios that made him thank that he would soon dive into icy water

Just think of the fun things we could do 'Cause I like you

The minutes passed quickly, between laughter and meaningless conversation, plunges into the placid, icy water, and lovely silences. Until they were floating, Ginny's body unlike Harry's and their heads meeting, foreheads on each other's jaws and uneven breaths

''You're back to normal'' she pointed out, and Harry had barely noticed that he was showing his own body again, blaming Ginny's body for it. As if reading her thoughts, the redhead licked her lips, sinking her body into the water again and pulling his face to hers, kissing him so hard that Harry almost drowned, half lost when his feet scraped at the bottom of the lake, before repaying with all your fervor as well.

She held his face with a certain territoriality, sucking on his tongue and approaching their bodies, smiling when Harry grunted at the contact, not even the icy water being able to stop him.

His heart was pounding in his ears when he pressed the redhead to a rock, holding her a little higher, lining up their heads and managing to sink the touch as he wanted.

They had some kisses like that at Hogwarts, but that one looked different, as if ... as if it was loaded with lack, fear and worry, as if the world was going to end tomorrow and they just had one more chance to kiss.

Harry thought that could be true.

''Ginny'' He sighed, anxiety eating him alive, as he managed to use all his strength to get away from the redhead, looking her in the eye, and almost moaning when he saw her red lipstick smeared all over her face, wondering how he was ''I like you. Really'' Harry wanted to say that, wanted to affirm just in case ... just in case he died and she never knew.

He very much doubted that he would make it out alive

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

Instead of answering, or blushing, as he imagined she would, Ginny pulled him in for a kiss again, even more in need, looking much more sentimental and sensitive than all the years Harry had been around.

''This is my gift'' She murmured against his lips ''For you to remember me'' They finally opened their eyes, winking at each other in a daze ‘'You know If you have some Veela wherever you are, doing whatever’' Ginny swallowed, and when he was older and remembered that day, Harry would remember seeing a touch of fear and jealousy running through her eyes, as if that girl, who turned his head and beginning to almost fall ill with all that whirlwind of feelings, it could be left aside by anyone else in the world.

''I will be busy enough to think about veelas,'' he assured her, hoping she understood behind his words. 'I will never be able to see anyone other than you'

''Good, that was the good side I was looking for''

The two swallowed again, and the sensation of her bare skin (in parts) on his fingers almost made him pass out, thinking how that was his life, how he could be so lucky to touch her intimately and devastatingly.

Harry could never be the same again.

And he didn't even want to.

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

They kissed for much longer than Harry could remember, hands wandering and stumbling until he was the one who was pressed against the rocks, groaning when she sucked on his neck and bit his skin, looking territorial as at Hogwarts. He would never complain about that.

His hand went down her spine, feeling the delicious sensation of his fingers discovering her soft skin that is usually hidden by the shirts, before finally squeezing her ass, shielding the moan in her mouth, while dropping her head slightly back, leaving let him delight in all his flesh.

''Harry'' Ginny sighed as his fingers dug curiously to that spot hidden in the middle, which even under water was hot as hell. ''Do you have your cloak?’’ As if he had woken up, he looked at her, stopping his fingers on the fabric of her panties.

''Yes​​'' And as if by magic, they were dry, and hidden, walking hurriedly to The Burrow again, laughing softly every time their feet tripped or that they saw some guests seeming to enjoy the party too much.

But the laughter ceased when they went up to her room, especially when she took off the cloak and looked at him a little hungry, vaguely pointing at the door with one hand, hoping he would protect them from the world.

For just a few hours, he needed to forget everything that awaited him.

Harry finally locked the door and put on the protection and muffling spells, before having his neck wrapped around Ginny's arms and his mouth occupied with hers, calmer than at the lake, but still hungry as a hungry man

They fell on her childhood bed, moaning softly when the horizontal position made them comfortable and very close.

''I was tired of standing up'' He declared

''Me too'' Ginny laughed, on top of Harry and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, with her makeup a bit smeared and her hair not too dry, as well as messy. Messed up by him.

His ego inflated when he thought he was the first boy to leave her that way, and yet, the first to be lying in her bed.

She was also the first to leave him like this.

And Harry knew it would be the last.

Third floor on the West Side, me and you Handsome, you're a mansion with a view Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

Soon the clothes came off again, not to the point of being totally naked, but Gin's underwear looked much thinner now that they weren't submerged, and Harry could feel it hot on top of his erection when her hips turned, which caused a loud groan from both.

''Merlin, this is good'' She did it again, and this time, he can't control the thrust of his hips upwards, which caused much more than Ginny's subtle movements. The two looked soft after the shock on their bodies

Harry kissed her again, running his hand down her entire body, enjoying the sensation of her breasts supported by the simple light pink bra, groaning when he pressed his pelvis even closer to her. Her hands went to her back, unbuttoning the piece and freeing soon after, blushing when Harry's green eyes reached the flesh, seeming to live a dream.

''You are beautiful'' was all he managed to say, running his fingers over the hard nipples of her creamy breasts, mesmerized by the freckles that covered part of her skin, feeling their weight and how perfect they were. Harry made her move closer to finally catch one of them with his mouth, sucking as if he had been doing it for years, and almost enjoying hearing his name coming out as a cry from her lips.

Suddenly, his underwear started to get slightly damp, and for a moment, he thought he had really come without even realizing it, until he noticed that it came from Gin, the proof that he was doing everything right. And more eagerly now that he was being encouraged, he massaged the other breast, while still using his mouth there. The vague hand went down her side, half shaking with all the growing lust, until found the fabric wrapped around her hip, playing for a moment there, not quite sure what to do.

''Do it'' Ginny forced him, taking her hand and leading him to her middle, finally touching her, and heavens, she was soaked ''Please'' The request came out so needy that Harry almost moaned along with her when he removed that piece and slid his hand to cover the bare area, losing the senses when it feels so hot and slippery, using the fingers as a guide, exploring the entire area

"I'm going to need you to help me," he admitted, a little embarrassed. They never made it that far, just once he put his knee in the middle of it and Ginny rubbed it like it was the best thing in the world. But that, it was absurdly better.

Long night, with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

Ginny guided him, and to her delight, Harry learned quickly, which was a blessing, because her moans and hips rotated over his erection were so wonderful it was like being in paradise.

Confident, he slid a finger inside her, moaning and tensing when he felt her crush him inside, much softer and hotter, while his palm got incredibly wet and the moans grew louder and louder. Harry turned them over, getting on top to get more control, using his thumb to touch that knot that seemed to take the redhead in another dimension, while carefully placing another finger and watching him disappear into her

He had dreamed of it a few times, imagined how it could all be, but his mind was nowhere near as detailed with that, just believing it would be too good, ignoring the rest. But it was exciting to see her, getting more and more red and noisy, riding his fingers like the was the best broom in the world, whimpering his name and scratching his skin.

It was wild.

His cock inside his underwear throbbed in pain, his balls seeming to compress each time Ginny swallowed him more, and when he increased his pace and saw her lift her back while squeezing it until it was almost impossible to take his fingers off, Harry knew they were progressing to something more

''AAAHHH'' She dug her nails into his shoulder, pulling him in for a hungry kiss, biting his bottom lip and furiously moving her hips ''H-arryyyy'' Ginny moaned as her brown eyes dilated and looked like two black holes in her face, her vagina milking him and then wetting him completely with orgasm, her clitoris swollen and looking highly sensitive at that moment.

His ego inflated to the heights.

Seamus talked a lot at times in the dorm, and commented at times about making witches come, and as he heard from a girl that they usually didn't do it easily because the guys were horrible. But Ginny didn't seem to think it was bad, and Harry almost screamed and jumped in celebration..

Daring, as fuck, he bent down until he reached the middle of it, seeing everything up close and feeling salivated at the idea of ​​sucking it, but his confidence had a limit and he didn't think he could succeed in that too, so he contented himself with just licking it to suck all her excitement, feeling his hair tug and the screams starting again.

Harry sucked on his fingers as soon as they left her, and pulled back a little more to suck in her entrance, trying not to touch the clitoris that seemed to be too sensitive.

When he came back up, Ginny was a red mess and out of breath, very much like a hungry animal.

It was sexy

''You were supposed to win the gift'' She said after a few minutes staring at him, running a shaking hand over his cheek and smiling

''Ah, I loved this gift, make no mistake'' His cock throbbed, but Harry really didn't care much, thinking it was much sexier to see her that way because of him, than wanting to deal with his erection now. ''How did I do?'' Seamus had said that some witches lied, but that didn't seem false, even so he questioned

''Do I have to say?'' Gin laughed, flushed and looking like the most beautiful work of art in the world, and he cursed Voldemort once again for stealing it from him. Not even enjoying your girlfriend was allowed. The world has never been so unfair.

Harry didn't want to leave her, and he wasn't thinking about just having to leave her room and go back to the tent.

She seemed to realize this

''You'll be back, and then everything will be fine'' She said, looking much less radiant than before, even so smiling and caressing his skin.

Harry wanted so badly to be hers forever, because no doubt there would never be another one for him, but Ginny would still live, marry, still enjoy the many years that he had left. It was almost unfair to want to declare his love for her again, now that he was about to run away to know Merlin where, and possibly die at the hand of a psychopath

"Are you tired?" He wanted to change the subject, feeling bad for being aware of it.

Harry wanted so much to have more time with her. Maybe a lifetime.

But his life wouldn't be that long, so he would have to be content with that.

Better little than nothing, he thought irritably.

''More or less'' The two made themselves on the bed, she lying beside him, facing his direction as she ran her fingers over his chest, boldly down to his stomach, then down to his navel ...

''No'' Harry stopped her ''No'' He said again, a little breathlessly when her fingers touched him. He wouldn't be able to leave her if he knew what it felt like. ''Sleep, it was a busy day'' The music was being drowned out the windows, as well as the conversations, and inside the world seemed just theirs, with nothing to interrupt them. The boy smoothed her face, also on his side, while also playing with her hair, memorizing every bit of it.

It would never be enough.

''I didn't want you to go'' Her voice was a little shaky, but nothing that passed over her face. Her brown eyes seemed to weigh and the darkness of the chosen room made her look like a goddess, taking Harry closer and closer to paradise before throwing him up there. Not that he complained.

''Neither do I Gin, now go to sleep'' His girlfriend's (?) soft hand  stood over his heart, while finally giving in to sleep, closing her eyes and breathing lightly, looking at peace, and much more fragile than he never thought it was possible.

He couldn't have her in danger, let Voldemort use her like he did Sirius, he ... he wouldn't be able to live if Ginny was killed, not even a minute. And that was why he had to go, that he would have to leave her. That perfect and happy life, the sunny days by your side, never belonged to him.

''I love you'' His dick didn't hurt anymore, sad as he got up from the bed and kissed her forehead, covering her with a plaid blanket and memorizing her face before putting on his clothes, ready to leave her forever.

It was for her sake, he think, so that she had the opportunity to live a life, to have a marriage as beautiful as Fleur's, so that she could be totally happy alongside any other man who didn't put her in constant danger.

Even though, Harry completed it alone, closing the door to her room and sliding down the stairs, he never had a chance to be that man.

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep Are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time ('Cause I like you)