Disclaimer: All the characters, places, objects in this fanfic belong to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Ginny could not keep her eyes off him nor could she help the grin that spread across her face as she stared at his torso. Her mouth ached from the large amount of smiling she had done over the last day yet she was finding no great desire to stop smiling right now. Hermione had compared her last week to looking like the 'Cheshire Cat' and after curiosity had got the better of her, she had looked through the Muggle novel last week. Despite being annoyed by the comments made by her future sister-in-law, she had to agree with her brother's girlfriend about the look on her face as she saw the idiotic grin in print, deeming the comparison as just.
She was happier than she had ever been; it was almost as if someone had spiked her drink with Involito Potion, giving her the illusion of walking on air. Even the effects of a potion could not capture the giddiness she was feeling. Nor did she want to lose this feeling. After all, there was nothing wrong with being fascinated with your husband.
Harry always looked so peaceful when he slept, as if the weight of the world had finally lifted off his shoulders but while they were on honeymoon, those weights could disappear and not just at night time. The stresses of the Auror office with the Dark wizard pursuits and the pressure for wins in the professional Quidditch league were left firmly behind in Britain. Yet, it still amazed her that a man that was so full of adventure and action could just lie there asleep, dreaming, especially after all the adrenaline that had flooded his body last night.
She could hardly believe the fact that they were finally together, let alone that they were now married. She was now, after years of dreaming about it, Mrs Potter. And as she sat there, she was starting to realise that there was something very scary about being Ginny Potter. She had been a Weasley for her entire life. She knew it would take some time to get used to her new title.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had still been Ginny Weasley and she had known the roles she'd had to play as a Weasley. After all, she'd had twenty years of experience at that. And even with the additional roles of being a professional Quidditch player and Harry Potter's girlfriend (which brought on more press attention than she would have liked), she always had her Weasley name to fall back on. Twelve hours ago, she'd had all her family and friends around her. After the euphoria of the last night's activities had worn off, she was just beginning to realise that it was now just her and Harry.
She was now Mrs Harry Potter--. No longer Ginny Weasley, but the wife of the hero of the wizarding world and one of Britain's best Aurors. It felt like she was about to lose her identity as well as her name and she had no idea what to do about it. After all, it was her name that made her who she really was.
Her nerves from yesterday fully returned.
She had spent months trying to keep the details of the upcoming wedding private from the press. It had meant everything to her and to Harry that the wedding party consisted of just family and friends.
Everything and everyone had been focused on yesterday afternoon. She had had so many arguments, too many to count, with her mother but even those heated discussions had been on trivial things such as seating plans. Molly Weasley had gone into serious overdrive at the thought of planning her only daughter's wedding to her honorary son and the hero of the wizarding world. Of course, this often drove a rift between the two Weasley women. Ginny had therefore spent all her energy on holding her ground over what would happen on the actual day.
She had not thought once in all these problems about how she would react once she became a wife. What flowers to pick, colours of bridesmaid dresses, and where to sit Aunt Muriel seemed even more trivial now than they had before. She had so many weightier problems on her own shoulders.
Growing up with six brothers meant that she had not thought about marriage or playing house with imaginary friends and dolls. Instead she had preferred to be knee deep in a pond looking for frog spawn. Thinking about weddings and running round the house with a pillowcase draped over her hair, had really not held that much weight when she had been younger. It had been much more important to gain equal status with the boys. Sneaking into the broom shed to borrow each of their Cleansweeps in turn had always been more appealing that playing tea party. Quidditch had been her first love as a child, something that had very much continued into her adult life.
At Hogwarts very little had changed. She had preferred to take her broomstick out onto the grounds, rather than talking about make-up with those who shared her dorm room. As soon as she had left school Quidditch had become even more important and even though her relationship with Harry had become more serious, and much more exciting, marriage hadn't entered her mind, until the day Harry proposed.
For a female Quidditch player, marriage was seen as a curse, especially if it was followed by the birth of children which signalled the end of the career. Within the Harpies twenty women squad, there were only other four players that were married. So over the last couple of weeks if she had asked questions of her team mates they had either been received with frowns, or worse, blank expressions. She had had no one to give her advice on what to do next, or what went on in a marriage after the wedding day had finished, leaving her at a complete loss on what she was to do now.
She lived in a world that hardly taught her anything about domestic life. Knowing how to dodge Bludgers was not going to help her now, was it? What good was it to know what different types of wood in brooms suited different weather conditions? It was not going to help her now to know that oak broomstick was the best for sunny weather whereas in rainy conditions, it would be better off choosing a beech wood.
She should have spent a little bit more time listening to her parents. After all, her mother was the expert where all this was concerned; Molly Weasley knew precisely what was expected of you after the wedding had finished and you became a wife.
All in all, she was clueless about what to do now and she couldn't help but let her mind drift back to her father's words yesterday.
Arthur studied her face for a while, thinking of what to say, before a smile emerged on his face. "Can you remember when you learnt to fly?"
She nodded. "You were up in the air for only a few minutes. I remember watching from the shed when you fell. You were so scared, tears welled up in your eyes, and I was on the verge of running out to help you, to protect you."
Arthur paused, his voice shaking over the last few words, and it was clear with the tears that were glistening in his bright blue eyes that he had become overcome with emotion. After a slight pause he smiled, pride glowing in his face as he continued. "But then, I saw you pick up the broomstick between your legs and there was such a fierce, determined look in your eyes, I knew you'd be okay."
Her spirit had lifted, and her worries had started to ebb away as her father spoke. Arthur returned his daughter's smile as he finished. "What I am trying to say is that you kept trying although it was never easy. Marriage is just the same way. Things will happen--take you by surprise--but as long as you love Harry and are willing to work at it, you'll be just fine."
Ginny looked at her dad, her confidence returning, and she couldn't resist asking. "Dad?"
"Are you trying to say, I should ride Harry like a broomstick?"
He frowned at her. "You are very lucky, young lady, that it is me and not your mother here." She was sure that, despite his tone and expression, he was amused. "No, what I am saying is that as long as you keep working at your marriage, you'll be fine." He smiled at her. "Now, are you ready?"
"I think so," she said as she picked up the bouquet of flowers from the table.
She silently cursed herself. Why had she chosen to make jokes of her dad's words instead of listening to what he had to say? He had been trying to give her advice and she had chosen to make a mockery of it. She could kick herself right now for being so thick. Right now, she needed those words of reassurance more than anything else.
Ginny took one last glance at Harry before Summoning a bath robe from the ensuite of the beach hut and pulling it on. She slipped out of the bed and opened the door to the small balcony. Walking down the stairs, she sat on the bottom step and let her bare feet sink into the soft sand as she stared out towards the sea.
The soft sand made its way in between the gaps of her toes. She looked down at her feet as she buried them deeper into the sand. The wings on her Snitch tattoo, positioned on her ankle, frantically fluttered to try and avoid the sand. Slowly she lifted her right foot and watched the golden grains fall back to the ground as she lost herself in her thoughts. Burying her feet again deep into the golden sand, she chose to look back at the sea and not focus on her overwhelming worries. The bright blues and greens of the sparkling sea were so crisp and clear, mirroring the sky perfectly.
Harry had been right: the Thai island of Ko Mun Nork was the ideal place for a honeymoon. The landscape was breathtaking but even better than that, it was completely isolated. The island had been found through local companies that advertised romantic getaways, but the real selling point had been the fact that guests could often have the whole island to themselves.
It was perfect: far away from the press; from the admirers that followed Harry down the London streets, and at times, even camping outside the Auror offices at the Ministry; from the new band of fans that she had seemed to acquire over the last few years who knew her every move. She smiled softly. It took a great deal of effort to stay away from prying eyes, but the results had always been very enjoyable, if last night was anything to go by, and it made that extra effort extremely worthwhile.
"Hey," Harry said softly, his voice breaking through her thoughts.
She turned to look at him. His unruly hair was messier than normal and just begging for her hands to find their way back into it. His glasses were slightly lopsided with those sparkling deep green eyes behind them. In his boxer shorts, Harry looked as perfect as ever and she could not help herself as she let her eyes drift down his very fine torso. She had a lot to thank the Auror training programme for.
"I woke up and you were missing," he smiled at her as he sat down next to her, slipping his arm around her waist, holding her tight to his side. "I thought for a minute that you'd come to your senses and left me," he whispered, nuzzling her neck now, she always loved the way he would drop kisses down her neckline and he knew that.
She couldn't help but let out a content sigh as she returned his smile. It was a recurring weak joke between the two of them that one of them would wake up and realise that the other one wasn't that interested.
"I love that smile," he murmured, whispering into the cove of her ear as if the two of them were sharing a secret, while he squeezing her hand. "So, what are you doing out here?"
"I was thinking about what it takes to be Mrs Potter, instead of just plain old Ginny Weasley." She glanced briefly at the sea and the paradise surrounding them before turning back to her husband. "I was wondering how to be a wife."
"I don't want a wife," we replied quickly, his eyes searching hers
She looked deep into his green eyes, letting her brown ones connect with them, trying to read his thoughts and intentions behind his words. "Okay, you've lost me."
"I didn't ask you to marry me because I wanted you to stay at home and fulfil the role society places on a traditional wife." He pressed his finger softly on her lips to stop her from arguing with him. "I want you."
She couldn't help but smile, her insecurities starting to ease. "Well, that's good to know as I definitely don't meet the ideal Potter wife that is shown in the press."
"I love you as you are." He moved a strand of hair out of her eyes, letting his hand brush against her lips and cheek before tucking the strand of hair behind her ear. "I love how you bite your lip when you're nervous," she could feel her face blushing, "the way you wink when your mind is straying to something mischievous and the passion you have for everything and the competitive nature you have."
He wrapped his arms tighter round her waist, slipping his hands inside the robe and sending a tingling sensation down her spine. Her body relaxed and her lips meet his, before she dropped her head onto his shoulder. As she looked into his eyes it was hard to tell where his body ended and hers started.
"I love you," he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "and I don't care if you're not very good at Cleaning Charms. I don't want any small part of you to change."
Breaking apart from him, she shot her hands to her hips as she pretended to be angry with his words. "Who said I wasn't good at Cleaning Charms?"
"You did," he smirked as she glared at him. "On Tuesday," his smug smile grew, "when you were in the middle of a panic attack, during the rant in which you exploded at your mum's words. You thought that I was just staring at your movements and not listening to your words but I caught everything you said."
"Fine," she held her hands up in a mock surrender, "I'll give you that one but that doesn't sort out the original problem. What do we do now? How do we move on from the wedding?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, I've no idea. I don't really know what to do next either." He grinned at her. "I kind of blanked out as Percy was telling me about the role of being a husband and what a good marriage included; my attention was captured by my wife dancing with the new Hogwarts herbology professor." He caught her hand in his, pulling her back close to him again, "But what does it really matter? Who cares how we conduct this marriage or what we're doing this time next year and whether or not that's how people expect us to act." He squeezed her hand. "Let's just focus on enjoying today and not waste time worrying over tomorrow. Life is too short for anything else."
She grinned, letting her worries and minor concerns dissipate. They could wait till they were getting grey and old, they had the important things right as it was and with every passing second other more attractive thoughts filled her mind, "Now that's an idea."
"So, now we don't need to worry about all that," he kept his voice plain, but he was clearly amused, as he gave her robe a small tug, "what should we do instead?"
Ginny grinned at him, and she could feel her whole face light up as she spoke. She ran her hand down his chest towards his boxer shorts. "I'm sure that I could think of something else."
His eyes were twinkling as his hand rested against her hip. "What's going on in that mind of yours, Mrs Potter?"
"I was just thinking," she gave his boxer shorts a small tug, "about what we do best."
"And that would be?" he asked with a grin as big as hers. "I can't see either of our broomsticks here."
"Oh, we don't need our broomsticks," she winked at him. "I'm sure that we can show that passionate connection that Luna was talking about yesterday, without them."
Ginny found herself leaning in closer as she initiated the kiss. The texture of Harry's lips made her heart flutter, craving more but almost as soon as their lips met, he pulled away in a teasing fashion, leaving her wanting more. Her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her.
She wasn't going to settle for the brushing of their lips. Their kisses were deep and passionate and he knew that as well as she did. A teasing little kiss was just not going to work.
As their lips met again, all her thoughts and doubts disappeared. She was well and truly lost in the moment. The kiss was hot and fast. Harry's hands were in her hair as her heart pounded hard against her chest and the adrenaline rush grew. Using her tongue, she parted his lips. Her sense of excitement grew as Harry's hands left her hair, and she allowed herself to be manipulated by Harry's strong arms. As their tongues enjoyed an intimate dance, she felt his hands under her white robe exploring the curves of her body, while making their way up her body very slowly, lingering over certain areas of soft skin.
Her hands cupped his face as she both deepened and slowed the kiss, bringing it to its climax and making it more heartfelt than before.
Slowly they broke apart after what seemed like a lifetime.
"I think the passionate connection needs to go to the next step," Harry told her as he got to his feet.
Before she had a chance to reply, she found herself swept into his arms, as he carried her to their beach hut. Between the door and the bed, the robe had fallen to the floor and by the time they had landed in a messy heap onto bed, Harry's boxer short had joined the other clothes from yesterday on the floor.
After a good hour of blissful enjoyment and performing activities that would mean her dress should have been nearer a deep shade of scarlet than the innocence of white, Ginny felt relaxed and much less worried about what the future held in store for them.
Her hand trailed from Harry's torso, where it had been resting, to the floor as she rolled off the bed, reaching for her undergarments. Her fingers wrapped around the lacy black material before she felt Harry's arm slither around her waist. She let him roll her over, leaving her lying right next to him, every inch of their skin touching. The covers fluttered in the air as he flipped her onto her back. He was on all fours, his arm holding onto her wrists as he smiled at her.
She smiled back at him. His hold was strong and powerful, but at the same time, the loving playful nature of his embrace meant that she could flick him back over in a second if she had wanted. She was sure that Harry knew that as much as she did. She knew from the smile that flitted across his face that he was only in that position because she was letting him keep hold of her.
"Just where do you think you're going this time?" he asked as he moved his knees closer in to her hips, keeping her pinned in position.
"I was thinking if you wanted a round two, we may need some food," she said, slyly, winking at him. "Not to mention, rounds three to ten."
"Hmm," he said pushing her arms down onto the bed, still keeping hold of her wrists. "I think I can survive on you alone."
"Well," she freed herself from his grasp, "I was brought up as a Weasley, and I can't survive, especially after what I've got planned for you."
Harry grinned at her. "Something tells me being married to you is going to be very fun."
"And we haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg," she said, returning his grin as she proceeded to show him exactly what she had planned.