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Author: St Margarets Story: The New Zealand Chronicles Rating: Mature Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 28 Words: 170,671
"Are those a species of Diricawl?" Hermione asked. Four bright tropical birds were trying to fit a large white box through Ginny's bedroom window. "Oh. That thunder must have been Apparition noise." Ginny took the surprisingly lightweight box from the birds. They each gave a squawk and then disappeared in a clap of iridescent green and blue feathers. "This is my garland from Luna," Ginny breathed in awe. A heavenly scent filled the room. "Oh, my." Hermione touched one of the many tiny, star–shaped flowers nestled in a sinuous ribbon of magic. Each white flower had a deep green leaf attached. Some blossoms still had a few drops of dew clinging to them. Ginny lifted the garland carefully, the magic sending pleasant tingles through her hands. "I'll help," Hermione said, draping the flowers over Ginny's hair. Her hair was mussed from sleep and her eyes needed rinsing, but there was no denying the lovely impact of the tiny bits of green and white scattered over the crown of her head and down her back. Her red hair, softened by the mist of magic, was the perfect backdrop for the white flowers. "I've never seen a magical veil," Hermione said. "It must have taken Luna ages to weave this," Ginny said. "And she had to gather the blossoms and put charms on them to keep them fresh," Hermione murmured. "I wonder what kind of flowers they are?" Ginny picked up the card and read: Dear Ginny, I hope you like the Morning Stars I wove into your garland. The virgins wear them on their way to the volcano. They seemed appropriate for a wedding, too. The flowers should stay fresh forever if you renew the charms on every anniversary. I know you will remember to do that. I am so happy for you and Harry, but I'm sad I can't witness your ceremony. Love, Luna "She's homesick," Ginny said through the lump in her throat. "Yes." Hermione sniffed. "It's exciting to be away – but it's difficult to miss…events." Ginny blinked back her sentimental tears. "Well, you're not going to miss anything today," she said briskly. Then she smiled as a new thought struck her. Hermione was going to be so happy when Ron finally showed up. Hermione's eyes widened and she started to smile. "I'm not going to miss a thing, am I?" * For the rest of the morning, Ginny tried not to miss anything, either, but there was so much happening that it was impossible to keep track: Bill finally returned from France. The caterers set up the tent. Ron arrived and promptly disappeared with Hermione. Owls came and went. Percy and Penny sorted out the seating arrangements. Mum supervised it all until Dad asked her if she was going to wear her apron to the ceremony. Then she giggled and reappeared wearing her new blue robes. Charlie, Fred and George arrived at the last minute looking rather worse for wear, but assuring Ginny that Harry had not been celebrating in the pubs with them. Ginny couldn't help wondering what Harry was doing during that long, breathlessly busy morning before the wedding. At twelve o'clock Hermione brought Ginny her bouquet and walked with her to the orchard where the forty invited guests were already seated. Before she was to walk down the aisle, Mum briefly touched a flower in her hair and kissed her cheek, murmuring how her beautiful her sweet girl was. Dad cleared his throat and offered her his arm. A flute began to play sweet notes like bird song, which caused the crowd to abruptly stand. Ginny hesitated, not daring to look at all of the people watching her. A path through the crowd stretched before her, so she concentrated on that grassy aisle, following it with her eyes until she finally saw Harry. Her gaze locked with his and held. There was a collective sigh. Or was that the sound of her heart swelling with happiness as she smiled at him and started down the aisle? Finally, finally. Her bouquet trembled. She had loved him for so long. She tried to concentrate on the words of their vows, she tried to remember the feeling of the cool ring sliding over her finger, but the only thing that seemed truly real was the swift warm touch of his lips against hers and the burst of applause afterward. There were pictures. There were toasts. The entree was chicken and the cake was chocolate. Time was abundant with people and laughter and sunshine so that the afternoon seemed to stretch forever and to take no time at all. To Ginny's delight and to their embarrassment, Hermione caught the bouquet and Neville caught the garter. Then her family clustered around them to say good-bye. While Hermione hugged and cried over Harry, Ron sought out Ginny. "I'm taking away your best mate," Ginny blurted, searching his face for any sign of unhappiness. "You are." He smiled. "But you're bringing him back in a year." Her worries began to dissolve. It was going to be all right. "I promise to bring him back," she said, smiling. Then she looked up into his eyes. "I know you'll miss him." Ron cocked his head. "I'll miss you, too." He meant it. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice or the weight of truth behind his words. Her heart glowed. Ron had never said anything like that to her, but they had been companions – paired together as the youngest – their whole lives. He realized it, too. She hugged him. "Love you." It was time to go. They climbed into back of the black Ministry car that had been arranged for them. Ginny looked through the long back window at the beaming faces of her family and waved as the car pulled away. The white streamers tied to the boot lifted and fluttered a cheerful farewell. * The first stars were showing in the east as their driver pulled up in front of a posh hotel that was situated directly across from the Portsmouth harbor. Here, Muggle sailboats, yachts and pleasure boats shared slips with the magical steam and sailing ships that traversed the globe. There were several vessels anchored farther out – one looked like a magical cruise ship since it glowed white in the semi-darkness. "Is that big ship the one we're taking to New Zealand?" Ginny asked as the car waited in a queue to drop them at the elegant entrance of the Janus Hotel. "Nope, we're taking that one – The Pride of Liverpool." "A sailing ship?" "Yup. It's smaller, so we won't be around so many people, and it's supposed to be fast." She practically bounced in her seat with excitement. She hadn't traveled on holiday since the family had visited Bill in Egypt so long ago. "You know, I was so wrapped up the wedding that I forgot we're going on a trip together." "I didn't forget." He took her hand. Her stomach fluttered at the hungry gleam in his eye. "You've really planned all of this out." "I have." His thumb traced circles on the top of her hand. "I've been waiting and waiting…." He wasn't complaining. There was longing in his voice, but there was a note of excitement, too. She gripped his hand to stop his thumb from moving – just that slight action made her ache for him. But they weren't alone in the car – and they would have to face strangers once they were in the hotel…. Harry didn't let go of her hand as they entered the elegant portals of the Janus Hotel, and Ginny was glad. The marble floor of the high-ceilinged lobby stretched endlessly to the long reception desk. In the midst of all that space, Ginny had the impression of huge bouquets on pedestal tables and squishy sofas and chairs and many fashionably dressed people milling about. Not since the World Cup had she heard so many foreign languages. She was feeling intimidated by it all until she overheard a young girl. "Look, Mummy, a bride!" Ginny had forgotten she was wearing gorgeous white robes that easily suited this cosmopolitan hotel just as they had suited the orchard behind the Burrow. She held her chin up a little higher. Unfortunately, once the guests noticed the bride, their eyes went to the groom – and widened. "Harry," she said in a low voice as they reached the reception desk, "I think we've been found out." The dignified wizard behind the desk certainly recognized them. "Ah, Mr. Pot–" "Roonil Wazlib," Harry said, tersely, "I have a reservation." "Roon…?" The wizard caught on. "Mr. Wazlib, of course." He ran his wand over the huge open book in front of him. "Right. Here it is. The honeymoon suite." He reached into a drawer and took out a golden key. "It's the top floor – very private." Harry nodded. The hotel wizard turned the book and handed Harry a quill. "Sign here, Mr. Wazlib." Ginny couldn't help but smile as Harry wrote out the unfamiliar 'Mr. and Mrs. Roonil Wazlib' in his familiar handwriting. "Mr. Wazlib, I wish to assure you that no one but paying guests are allowed on the upper floors of the hotel. The Janus takes security very seriously. We host dignitaries from around the world. Not to mention Quidditch teams and stars from the Wireless." "Right." Harry nodded and then looked around for their driver and their bags. "The elves have already taken your trunks to your room." The wizard gestured to a set of brass doors. "That lift will take you directly to your suite and will only work with your key." Ginny saved her giggles until they were inside the mirror-lined lift. "I can't believe you used Ron's secret identity to book a room here." Harry grinned. "I was going to use 'Neville Longbottom,' but I didn't think he, his gran or his girlfriend would be happy to hear he had booked a honeymoon suite." She was going to ask him if he thought they would always be watched in public, but she didn't. She didn't want him to think she was complaining. "I was all ready to be called 'Mrs. Potter' and instead I'm 'Mrs. Wazlib.'" "Ginevra Wazlib has a nice ring to it." He was smiling down at her like he was going to kiss her. She moved closer. He hadn't kissed her – really kissed her – since yesterday. "This has to go," he said, gently pulling the flowered garland out of her hair. "Why? It's so pretty." "It is pretty, but I don't want to be tangled up in flowers when I kiss you." Ginny caught a glimpse of them in the mirror and was struck by how they looked together in their wedding finery. Everything about them was a delicious contrast. He was in black and looked so much taller and broader next to her small curvy figure in white. Then she forgot all of that as he pressed her closer and touched his lips to hers. She tilted her head back into the hand that was caressing her hair and drank him in. The lift doors slid open with a whoosh. Harry smiled at her and then picked her up in one swift motion. She clutched his shoulder in alarm. "Harry! What are you doing?" "Carrying you over the threshold." She giggled. "Did you read Magical Bride magazine for inspiration?" "Yes, Ginny, Ron gave me a subscription for my birthday." She was going to swat him for that, but they had crossed the threshold and he was setting her on her feet before she had the chance. Ginny looked around at the luxurious room. Their suite was as a large as a Fred and George's flat and was decorated in shades of ivory and blue. The hotel elves had already turned down the dark blue covers on the four-poster bed, revealing snowy white sheets and a mountain of plump pillows. "Wow," she said, turning to him with a smile. "Wow." He was looking at her and not the room. He tossed her garland on a nearby chair and took her in his arms. They were alone at last with no where else to go and nothing left to do but this, Ginny thought blissfully as he kissed his way from her mouth and down her neck, causing her to shiver. She should change, came the thought from a distant corner of her mind. Hang up her wedding robes before they were rumpled and tossed away like her garland. She pulled away reluctantly. "I'm going to hang up these robes before they're too wrinkled." Harry took a moment to focus on her words. "Okay." "I'll take yours, too." He smiled at the provocative tone in her voice. "Okay." He didn't bother to unfasten the clasps, but pulled the robes over his head in one careless motion, leaving him clad in his white dress shirt and black trousers. "I'll take the tie, too," she said, reaching with both hands to untie it. The silk was soft under her fingers and made a smooth rasping sound when she pulled the end through his collar. "Better?" she asked as he unbuttoned his collar. "Hm." He kissed her again, pressing close to her and trapping the bunched-up bundle of his robes between them. "You're wrinkling your robes," Ginny said after another searing kiss. "I'm supposed to hang them up." He looked confused that she was blathering on about robes, but he let her go. "I'll just go…do this," she finished lamely, heading toward the dressing room and their trunks. "Do you need help?" he asked hopefully. She laughed. "I'll be right back." She shook out his robes and hung them on a padded hanger. Should she put on her gift from Sabrina's Secrets or was that too forward? Then she laughed at herself. How could she be too forward on her honeymoon? The cool, silky fabric felt wonderful next to her skin, she decided, as she worked the short garment over her head and smoothed it over her hips. Her hair needed tidying, so she brushed it until it fell around her face, smooth and shiny. "Ginny?" She started guiltily. "Coming!" For some reason it was taking her longer to prepare for bed than it had taken her to dress for her wedding. One last look in the mirror assured her that Sabrina knew what she was doing when she made this little confection of satin and lace. It highlighted the lovely lines of her bare arms and legs and hinted at the soft proportions of her breasts and thighs and hips. Harry was reading a piece of parchment when she entered the room. He was barefoot and his white shirt was unbuttoned. "We just got a message from the ship," he said, not looking up. "They're predicting fog, so we won't have to leave until high tide, which is after lunch." He folded the letter and tossed it on the bedside table. "That's good because we can have a lie…" His voice died away as he finally looked over at her. Ginny smiled and felt a surge of excitement when his eyes widened and his lips parted. He hadn't dropped dead, but it looked a near thing. The hot look in his eyes was giving her goose bumps. "Do you like it?" she asked, twirling to show the low back. By the time she turned around he was right in front of her. His hands softly caressing her arms increased her goose bumps. "Like it," he said thickly. "Like you." He kissed her. "Like your hair." He touched her breast and moved his thumb back and forth. "Like your body." He started to push one of her straps off of her shoulder, but she stopped him, her lips against his bare chest. "Oh, no. Me first." His smile was rueful, but he let her pull off his shirt and toss it on a chair. "Not worried about wrinkles anymore?" he asked. She made a face and unfastened his trousers. With his help, she soon was able to see the part of him she had only ever touched through layers of fabric. Now she could touch him. He groaned or she groaned, but those noises couldn't be helped. His warm, smooth flesh felt so good – and looked so good. Her man. How she loved him, she thought as she pressed kisses on his chest and ran her hands over his back down to the firmness of his buttocks and back again to his front. "My turn," he said huskily. She dropped her hands and arched her neck so he could rain kisses there and over her collarbone. He nudged the straps of the gown off of her shoulders. Then he had to stop kissing her so he could concentrate on peeling away that garment. Once past her hips, he let it go and it fell into a satin pool at her feet. He looked and looked, wonder written all over his face. "So beautiful," he breathed. "My Ginny." The way he said her name was the most arousing thing she had ever experienced, until he slid his hand down over her stomach and gently touched her where he had never dared to touch her before. She shuddered and writhed at the contact and reached to touch him, but he quickly stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist. She looked up in surprise. "I can't wait," he said in a strangled voice. There was nothing to wait for, she realized. He was going to be hers and she was going to be his. She quivered within at the thought. Once they were lying on the bed, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. He was trembling. "Ginny," he pleaded into her ear. He was so sweet – even now, when he wanted her so badly, he was holding himself back. He wouldn't do anything she didn't want. Her response was to wrap her arms around him and open for him. "Yes." His nose bumped against her cheek as he moved over her and then, with one swift, sharp motion, they were joined. "Oh." It was a shock, this sudden presence, and he must have felt shocked, too, since his whole body strained against her during this brief pause. Then he moved. Or she moved. Or they both moved. Whatever happened, that friction felt better…and better. He panted next to her ear. She felt his back break out in a sweat as she held him and tried to keep up with the pace and the rhythm he was setting. She desperately wanted to build on the intermittent flickers of desire she felt deep within her. But before that could happen, he stilled and shuddered and her chance was over. He buried his face in her neck and held her tightly. She stroked his back, feeling the muscles in his shoulders finally relaxing under her hand. Although she was disappointed in herself, she felt a wave of tenderness for him and all the pent-up passion he had shown her. When he lifted his head, his green eyes alight with happiness, she touched his cheek. "Do you want a drink of water?" "No." His laugh sounded surprised and a little weary. "I want to kiss you." His lips brushed her forehead. "I love you so much." Her eyes filled with tears. She loved him so much, too. If only she could have felt what he felt – if only she could have caught up so they could have really been together…. "Ginny?" He touched her hair. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" She shook her head, since she felt too emotional to talk. "Tell me what's wrong." He looked so worried. "I –" She closed her eyes for a moment. She should tell him since he was the one to share all the secrets of her heart. She opened her eyes. "I just didn't feel what you felt." Once she started, the words tumbled out. "I mean, when we're together I feel all achy inside for you, but I never….I mean, there's nothing in What Every Witch Should Know about how I should feel." "What Every Witch Should Know?" he repeated. She blushed. "It's this book Aunt Muriel sent me about marital duties." He stared at her as if imagining such a book. "Don't you laugh!" "I'm not laughing," he said gravely. "Although it is sort of funny, thinking of your great-aunt sending you a sex book." "Well, it didn't help me one bit," she grumbled. "I think it was written in the Middle Ages." There was some sort of comprehension dawning in his eyes, although his expression was bleak. He had been looking so content and satisfied and now she had erased all that with her stupid need to feel what he felt. They were two separate people – how could a mere physical act ever make them that close? "Please don't feel bad," she pleaded. "I just thought it would be different. And I don't know why I felt that way. Great-Aunt Muriel's book didn't make any promises." "Um." He hesitated and licked his lips. Ginny guessed that if he had his glasses on he would have pushed them up as well. "I don't think you're wrong to feel that way." She propped herself up on one elbow. "What do you mean?" "Er." He gave her a sidelong glance. "I've done some reading on the subject, as well –" She snorted. "I doubt you've read anything, since those magazines you blokes like just have pictures." His eyes widened. "I have six brothers, Harry." She rolled her eyes. "I never thought it was the ghoul who stashed those periodicals under the floorboard in the attic." He laughed, but didn't confirm or deny that he knew about the magazines. Then he grew serious. "I think now that I've…. I mean, I hope – I can make it better for you." Her heart turned over. She didn't want him to feel unsure. "Harry, I looked all over that book to explain a wizard's marital duties, and there wasn't one word." "Oh, I think my duty is clear," he said firmly, as if he had made up his mind about something. "Oh?" Her heart beat faster at the appreciative way his eyes swept over her. "My duty is to make you feel as good as you make me feel," he said, running his open palm over the flat planes of her stomach and then gliding up to her ribs and then down again to skim her waist. He continued that for a long time, not touching any of her sensitive parts and the teasing was making her taunt with impatience. She wanted to pull him closer, but he wouldn't let her. Instead, he followed the same trail over her body, this time with his mouth. "Harry," she said in a breathy voice. "I think I've caught up with you. Maybe…." She felt him smile against her breasts. Then he worked his way toward her stomach and then lower still…. "Harry," she said in confusion. She never realized that the inside of her thighs could be so sensitive until now. "I don't know…." She had heard about such things, but she never dreamed he would want to do that. And she wasn't sure if she wanted him to, either – it was such a private place to be so exposed. "Please," he said. "Let me make you feel good." It was that 'please' that did it – that 'please' and the glint of gold from his wedding ring that she happened to see as she looked down on him. He had pledged himself to her. They were bound together as one. She didn't want to hide any part of herself away from him – no matter how vulnerable it made her feel. His mouth felt cool and soothing at first and then – slowly, inexorably – the flickers of desire within her strengthened and grew. It felt so good, like nothing she had ever felt before. He was causing this incredible tension within her and only he could release it. She was afraid he would stop; it would be unbearable if he stopped. She needed him in a way she had never needed anyone before, but she didn't know how to keep him with her except to make breathy noises and clutch at his soft hair. Don't leave. I need you. He didn't stop; he didn't leave. The tension was an exhilarating spiraling thing. Need you. He was with her, watching her, devouring her until she collapsed against the pillows, feeling as if she had just run a race…and won. His head joined hers on the pillow. There was boyish pride in his smile, but tenderness, too. She held him tightly until her pulse slowed, her heart bursting with love for him. When he looked into her face again, he was still smiling. "Do you want a drink of water?" he asked. She giggled, realizing how ridiculous that must have sounded when she had asked him that before. "No, I want to kiss you." His mouth tasted of what he had done for her. She touched his bottom lip. "That was…." His eyes darkened at these words. "Amazing," he said in a raw voice. "Amazing and beautiful to see you like that…." He wanted her again, she realized as her own desire flared to life. But this time, she thought as she moved on top of him, this time she understood what it was to need another so badly and have that need wondrously fulfilled. It was a gift beyond pleasure that he had given her. And now, in the melding of their bodies, in the sure rhythm of their movements, they were experiencing this gift together. Her love, her wonder, her bliss was reflected in his eyes. * "Is it possible to die from too much pleasure?" Ginny asked after her breathing had slowed to normal. "I'm willing to find out," Harry replied. She giggled and turned on her side. Harry had his eyes closed as if he was too exhausted to keep them open, but he was smiling. The drone of a foghorn broke the silence. "Sounds like we will get that lie-in." Ginny snuggled closer to him. He didn't answer her – he had slipped into sleep. She watched his peaceful face and the rise and fall of his chest and then she put her hand over his heart. Her ruby engagement ring glowed in the dim light of the room. When he had asked her to marry him, she had worried about no longer belonging to herself. Then, all through their engagement, she had yearned to be closer to him. And now…. She contently placed her head on his shoulder, wondering what the word was for this bone-deep feeling that was beyond joy. -End Part One- Author's Note:
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