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Author: Aibhinn Story: Ginny's Kiss Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 28 Words: 3,176 "So... who are you going to ask?" Seamus' question instantly made all four of the other boys at the table look away. Harry couldn't have met his eyes if he'd wanted to. "Oh, come on," Seamus said impatiently, glaring around at them. "I've already asked Lavender. You lot aren't planning to go to the dance alone?" "I'd sort of thought about it, yeah," Ron said vaguely. Seamus made a noise of disgust. "It's the first Halloween Ball Hogwarts has had in thirty years," he said patronisingly. "Our mums and dads didn't even get to go to one! We've got to set the tone for the school, mates. We're in sixth year now." "What about the seventh years?" Neville challenged, raising an eyebrow. Harry spared a moment from his embarrassment over asking someone to a ball for the second time, and marvelled at Neville's transformation over the summer. His time in the DA and the battle at the end of last year had certainly changed him. He was much more confident than he'd ever been. "Shouldn't they be the ones to set the tone for the school?" Seamus waved a hand impatiently, nearly knocking over Harry's pumpkin juice. "They're too busy getting ready for their N.E.W.T.s," he said. "It's up to us. Besides," he added in a lower tone, "Malfoy and his goons have got dates. You don't want to look less than them, do you?" Harry raised his head and glanced at the Slytherin table. As usual, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sat together, talking and laughing--but across from Malfoy this time sat Pansy Parkinson, who was simpering at him. Apparently they were seeing each other. Harry pushed down a wave of nausea at the mental image of the two of them snogging, and pulled his attention back to his food. A flash of red hair caught his eye, and he looked up again. It was Ginny, heading to her seat with Colin, Dennis, and Miranda Robinson, one of her roommates. She'd obviously just come from Herbology; there was a smudge of dirt on her freckled nose. It attracted his attention in a strange sort of way. He was filled suddenly with the conflicting desire to keep silent and not make a fool of himself, and to walk over to her and wipe the smudge away with his thumb before bending his head toward hers and... "Harry!" Seamus snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face, making him jump. "You still with us, mate?" "What? Er, yeah," Harry said, dragging his gaze from Ginny with effort. "Yeah." Since he'd come to the Burrow at the end of July, just in time for his birthday, he'd begun to Notice Ginny more than he ever had before. That was how he thought of it: Notice, with a capital N. He'd noticed her before, of course--noticed she was in the room, noticed she was talking to her mother—but to Notice her was something else again. For example, he'd Noticed this summer that her legs were incredibly long and quite shapely, especially when she wore a bathing suit to swim in the lake. (He'd tried very hard not to Notice anything else about that bathing suit—especially with Ron right next to him.) He'd Noticed, too, that she had a dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. And she smiled often, it seemed—a bright, broad smile that lit up the whole room and made him want to smile too, somehow. He'd Noticed that when she was writing a particularly difficult essay, she would furrow her brow and bite her bottom lip as she thought about what she wanted to say next. If she was having real trouble, she'd twist a lock of hair round the index finger of her left hand at the same time. He'd Noticed on their first Hogsmeade visit last weekend that she hadn't gone anywhere near Zonko's, but she had spent several minutes looking in the window of Gladrags Wizard Wear at a beautiful dark-green robe on display. He'd immediately pictured it on her and had to look away. And now, he Noticed that Colin Creevey was acting very...friendly...towards her. A wave of anger rose through him, to be replaced with a wave of fear and resignation. Of course she'd rather be with Colin than with him. Colin didn't have a mad wizard after him. Colin hadn't been considered barking mad by two-thirds of the wizarding world last year. Colin hadn't been targeted by Umbridge just because of who his parents were. Of course she'd rather go to the ball with him. "...ask Hermione," Dean was saying in a coaxing sort of voice. "Come on, Ron, just do it. You know she'll say yes." "She didn't for the Yule Ball in fourth year," Ron said morosely, chasing a stray pea round his plate. "She already had a date then, you great git," Dean said. "Because you waited too long. Come on, buck up and go ask her, eh?" Ron shrugged. "She probably already has a date now," he said. "It's the 19th. Nearly time for the ball. You know her, she probably asked someone the first day of term, right after the Sorting Feast, just to be prepared when the time came." "You've two weeks yet," Dean said encouragingly. "Perhaps she's not as prepared as you think." "She was studying for the N.E.W.T.s last summer!" Ron said despairingly, propping his elbows on the table to either side of his plate and running his hands through his hair. "In the summer! Of course she's already got someone, what're you thinking?" Harry distinctly remembered Ron's impatience with Hermione last summer; he'd wanted to go do things, and she'd wanted to spend at least an hour or two revising for the N.E.W.T.s, although the three of them had only just finished their O.W.L.s. In fact, the quarrelling had got so bad that Harry had ended up going out flying on his own one afternoon, only to find Ginny already in the orchard. They'd practised a bit together, and he'd been amazed at how graceful she was in the air: moving with an instinctive agility and smooth control that spoke of years of practise as well as pure inborn talent. Like a swan, he'd thought, watching her. She moves like a swan. He was staring at her again, he realised with a start. Fortunately, neither she nor his tablemates seemed to have noticed. Her attention was focused on Dennis, who seemed to be telling a story; he was gesticulating wildly, using his hand to imitate some sort of creature that appeared to be attacking his face. Ginny laughed, a bold, unfettered laugh that threw her head back and made her rock backward in her seat. She made some comment, smiling at Dennis, and Harry felt a surge of warmth. That smile again. It was like the morning sun after a stormy night, rising over the horizon and casting its rays over the rain-soaked land. "—Luna," Neville said decidedly. Harry jerked back to himself. "Right now." Neville stood and took a deep breath, then, shoulders tense, walked over toward the Ravenclaw table. The other boys watched with bated breath as he approached Luna, who appeared to be immersed in a book. She glanced up when Neville stopped next to her, looking up with a frown of surprise. Neville had his back to them, so Harry couldn't see what his expression looked like, but Luna's was clear: startlement, then disbelief, then a growing delight. She stood and threw her arms around Neville and kissed him on the cheek, causing Ron, Seamus, and Dean to cheer and high-five each other. Harry was grinning too, pleased for his friend, but some portion of his heart was cringing. What if she says no? He hadn't had the best of luck with dating so far, after all. He'd been turned down the first time he asked Cho out; when they finally did get together, it had turned into an unmitigated disaster. Which hadn't been as bad as it could have been, since he and Cho weren't friends; but he really, really didn't want to lose Ginny's friendship over something like this. But he really, really did want to take her to the Ball. Movement caught his eye, and he saw that Ginny, Colin, Miranda, and Dennis were all getting up to leave—apparently they'd eaten much more quickly than he and his friends. He watched as surreptitiously as he could while they walked toward the doors of the Great Hall, biting his lip and wondering when Ginny would tell Ron that she and Colin were together. And then it happened: Colin put his arm around Miranda as they headed into the Entrance Hall. Harry blinked, nearly unable to believe it. Colin had put his arm around Miranda. Did that mean ... "Hey," Harry said without thinking, interrupting Dean, "who's Colin taking?" "Miranda, of course," Seamus said with an odd look at Harry. "They've been dating for three weeks, mate, where've you been?" Lightness filled Harry's heart. She wasn't seeing Colin! He did have a chance! He felt his courage rising, and he stood. If he waited any longer, he'd chicken out. "Where're you going?" Ron asked. "I'll be back," Harry said. "I think I know who I want to ask." "Who?" Seamus and Dean said together. But Harry ignored them, hurrying out into the Entrance Hall. He had to find some way to convince her to go with him; suddenly he couldn't bear the thought of watching her dance with anyone else. But how? Dennis was starting up the marble staircase. "Oi!" Harry called, jogging toward him. "Dennis! D'you know where Ginny's got to?" Dennis paused, turning. "I think she's gone outside," he said, waving his hand toward the double doors. "It's lovely and sunny, and she said she wanted to soak up as much sun as she could before winter sets in." "Thanks!" Harry called; he was already moving toward the doors. He wrenched them open and stopped on the landing at the top of the stairs, looking down onto the grass and scanning for a head of bright red hair. There. Over by the Japanese maple tree. Harry was moving again before he could think. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he muttered, "Rosa Floriste." A bouquet of variegated red-and-white roses shot from the tip; he grabbed hold of them and put his wand away. It was now or never. Ginny was standing beside the sapling, running a finger over the fire-red leaves that dripped downward like water drops. She turned as Harry came up to her, and he quickly shoved his hand behind his back, hiding the flowers. "Hi, Gin," he said, trying to be nonchalant while panting to catch his breath. "Hi, Harry." She cocked her head, looking up at him, and he was suddenly very grateful for the growth spurt he'd gone through last summer, even if it did make him trip over his own feet. "What's up?" The sun was behind her, and it lit her hair, showing off the golden highlights that had developed over the summer. She reached up with a hand to rake it away from her face, and suddenly her chocolate-brown eyes were unshaded. He swallowed. His determination of just a moment before seemed to have disappeared. "I—" he began. "I—I was—" Ginny raised her eyebrows, not sarcastically, he was relieved to note, but with an invitation to continue. What if— a voice in his head began. He summoned all his courage, squashed the voice ruthlessly, and thrust the bouquet at her. "These are for you," he said. For a wonder, his voice didn't even squeak. Ginny's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open as she reached for the bouquet. "Oh, Harry," she breathed, taking the flowers in both hands. "They're lovely!" "Nowhere near as lovely as you," he heard himself say. He flushed and ducked his head, burning with embarrassment. Could you think of anything more corny, Potter? But thankfully, she didn't laugh. In fact, he saw as he glanced upward, she was flushing brightly as well, and had buried her face in the bouquet to try to hide it. Could she really be flattered? The legendary courage of Gryffindor House flared again, and he cleared his throat. "Gin, er... I was wondering... would you like to go to the Halloween Ball with me?" Well, at least he'd got it into a complete sentence this time, not all crammed into one word. For the second time, her jaw dropped open and she raised her face out of the flowers to stare at him. "The Ball?" she repeated incredulously. "Er...yeah." Oh, God. Did she have a date already? "I mean, if you can," he added quickly. "If you don't, you know, have a date already or something." "Oh, no," she said quickly, flushing again. "No, I...I don't. Have a date, I mean. And I'd love to go with you, Harry." "You would?" The helium feeling returned to his stomach. "Really?" "Yeah." She was grinning that bright-morning-sky grin again. So was he, grinning like a lunatic. "That's great," he said. "Great, Ginny. Thanks." She took a step forward. They were now only a foot or so apart. Harry could clearly smell the roses in her hands. "It's... really sweet of you to ask me," she said softly. Her eyes shone limpidly up at him. He swallowed again. "I...I wanted to," he said honestly. "I wanted to last summer, only there wasn't, you know, any place to ask you to. So I didn't." Her grin turned impish. "Maybe I can talk Professor Dumbledore into hosting a few more dances, then," she said archly. Her eyes had completely captured him. They were twinkling with mischief, but still so deep that he felt as though they were pulling him in, dragging at his heart, tugging him deeper—deeper— Suddenly he realised his face was only an inch or so from hers, and she was staring up at him with a mixture of terror and hope. He paused, startled at what he had nearly done, but before he could pull away and apologise she'd closed the gap and their lips met. Soft...soft and sweet and pliable...and then she slid her arms around his neck and he closed his eyes and put his hands on her waist and became lost in the sumptuous, velvety suppleness of her. He was vaguely aware of the maple tree next to them and of the slight scratchiness of the rose leaves against the back of his neck, but the rest of his consciousness was taken up with Ginny, with her scent, her sighs, her warmth. Somehow, he didn't know how, it felt like it was time for the kiss to end, and so he pulled his head gently away. Ginny opened her eyes and stared up at him. For a long moment, they didn't speak. The bell rang to end lunch, startling them. Harry cleared his throat. "I, er, guess we should go in," he said awkwardly. "I guess so," Ginny agreed. Slowly, she let her hands fall from his shoulders and stepped back. He let go, immediately feeling bereft at the loss of her. "So, I'll, um... see you at dinner?" "Yeah, I guess." Harry really didn't want to leave her. "What lesson do you have next?" "Charms." "Mine's Divination." He picked up her knapsack, which she must have put down when she'd come out. "It's on the way. I'll walk with you." Again that dawnlight smile. "Okay," she said. "Where's your bag?" "I left it in the Great Hall. Don't worry, Ron will get it for me." "Okay." She touched her wand to the bouquet and muttered a Shrinking Charm. Obediently it shrank to a quarter of its original size, and she tucked it into the buttonhole of her uniform blouse. It created a bright splash of color against the starkness of her uniform. Harry jerked his eyes away before he could think too hard about the portions of her anatomy supporting the bouquet. He hefted her knapsack to his shoulder and they set off up the stairs into the Entrance Hall. They didn't touch again, but Harry could feel her nearness the whole way up to the third floor. And when he said goodbye to her at Professor Flitwick's door, she dropped a small kiss on his cheek before blushing furiously, taking her bag, and dashing inside. He went up to North Tower in a daze, still unable to believe he'd done it. Ron was waiting for him; Harry got inside the trapdoor just before Trelawney started to teach. "Where were you?" Ron hissed. He had a faint pink mark on his cheek—it looked like a glossy silhouette of a pair of lips. "Asking out a girl," Harry replied out of the corner of his mouth. "No way!" Ron's jaw dropped. "Who?" "Boys," Professor Trelawney said reprovingly, and they fell silent. Harry was not unhappy about this. He'd tell Ron right after class, and by the time they got downstairs it'd be all over the school, but for right now, Ginny's kiss was just his secret. And that wasn't a bad thing, he reflected. Not at all. Queen of Argyll, by Silly Wizard Gentlemen, it is my duty to inform you of one beauty Though I'd ask of you a favour: no to seek her for awhile Though I own she is a creature of character and feature No words can paint the picture of the Queen of all Argyll And if you could have seen her there! Boys, if you had just been there! The swan was in her movement and the morning in her smile All the roses in the garden, they bow and ask her pardon For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyll! On the evening that I mention, I passed with light intention Through a part of our dear country known for beauty and for style Being a place of noble thinkers, of scholars and great drinkers But above them all for splendour shone the Queen of all Argyll And if you could have seen her there! Boys, if you had just been there! The swan was in her movement and the morning in her smile All the roses in the garden, they bow and ask her pardon For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyll! So, my lads, I needs must leave you—my intention's no to grieve you, Nor indeed would I deceive you—oh, I'll see you in awhile I must find some way to gain her, to court her and to tame her I fear my heart's in danger from the Queen of all Argyll And if you could have seen her there! Boys, if you had just been there! The swan was in her movement and the morning in her smile All the roses in the garden, they bow and ask her pardon For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyll! |