The Future Won't Happen 'Til Tomorrow

The Future Won't Happen 'Til Tomorrow

Ginny Weasley looked out across the lake at Hogwarts, the rippling water the only sound save for the breeze rustling the trees. She crossed her ankles as she sat on the cold stone bench, shifting her weight uncomfortably. The amount of time that she had spent sitting on this seat over the years hadn't made it more comfortable in the least, she thought wryly. She reached up behind her hair and took her long red hair into her hands, deftly plaiting it and sweeping it into a somewhat messy bun. She took the bobby pin from between her teeth with one hand and pinned the ends. It wouldn't be long before gravity enticed the hair to twist and fall but the cool breeze on her neck in the meantime would be worth it.

She looked toward the castle fondly, remembering times spent. She could see a dark figure making their way toward her and squinted, trying to see who it was.

Harry.

He had been at her graduation ceremony this morning and smiled at her as she gratefully accepted the Dux's award for the most academically outstanding performance from Professor Albus Dumbledore. She had grinned blindly into the crowd, the sunlight blinding her but the euphoric feeling enough to ignite her soul. It had been such an amazing feeling. Ginny hugged her arms to herself as she looked down at the certificate and envelope sitting next to her on the bench.

"Ginny." Harry had arrived. "I've been looking for you."

"Have you?" Ginny asked, turning to look at him. At just over six feet, he was certainly something to look up to. She gestured to the empty seat beside her. "Sit down, won't you?"

"Sure," he said, stepping across the grass and sinking onto the seat. "Ooof, that one's a bit harder than I remember." He smiled at her as she laughed. "The sun caught your hair when you laughed."

Ginny blushed. "Don't," she said mockingly. "You flatter me."

"Would I do that?" Harry stretched languidly before regarding her with bright green eyes. "What's the plan, Sheriff?"

"Sheriff?"

"Well?"

"Don't really know," Ginny answered thoughtfully, staring across the lake. "I'd kind of only planned on studying enough to pass my N.E.W.T. levels."

"Hadn't thought this far ahead?" Harry asked, bringing his hand up slowly to rest against hers.

"Nope." Ginny looked down at his hand touching hers before resuming her perusal of the lake. "In fact, I hadn't even planned my graduation speech. The fact that seven years of education is over is still kind of surreal. I might even miss it."

"I did." Harry took his hand away and brushed some of his hair out of his face. "Among other things."

"Maybe I should think about getting a job." Ginny felt her makeshift bun start to unravel. "I was aiming to be an Auror but maybe I should look into curse-breaking."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, watching the coils of coppery hair fast unraveling from their intricate twists.

"Flitwick said I was the best at curse-breaking that he'd seen in twenty years," Ginny answered him, shaking her long hair over her shoulder and examining the ends. "Could be an incentive."

"Maybe," Harry said, rising up in his seat far enough to shift so that he was sitting directly next to her. "You must be good at it, Ginny."

"So they say," she said slowly, laying her head against his shoulder and breathing in deeply. "So they say."

"Oh, I reckon you're fairly talented, Ginny." Harry turned his head so that his cheek was resting against her forehead. "In many ways."

"What's talent, though?" Ginny asked curiously, watching the weed in the lake float past. "What's talent when there's war, poverty and famine?" She shifted her shoulder slightly so that it fit more snugly against his. "What good is talent to me if I'm hungry?"

Harry pressed his lips softly against her skin before answering. "Maybe it's nothing if you're hungry. But wouldn't you rather have the talent while hungry and be glad you have it, than be hungry and have nothing?"

Ginny raised her eyebrow, smiling at the lake. "Indeed, Harry. I would prefer to be happy."

"Happiness isn't necessarily a talent," Harry said. "It's a journey."

"Not a destination," Ginny mused.

"No," Harry smiled, pressing his lips against her forehead again. "Not a destination." He brought his hand to Ginny's and laced his fingers through hers. She looked up, meeting his gaze squarely, their faces mere inches apart.

"What makes you happy, Harry?" she asked, keeping her gaze locked on his.

He took a moment to reply. "I don't know, Ginny." He moved his face closer to hers, craning his neck. "Love?" he suggested softly, dipping so that his lips met hers. She arched her back, moving her mouth so that their faces were tilted sideways, allowing her to deepen the kiss. She parted her lips and let his tongue snake around the inside of her lips, brushing against her teeth and teasing her tongue. She responded by moving her own tongue against the length of his, closing her lips over it and drawing back slowly. She opened her eyes to find his closed, and smiled against his mouth.

"What's so funny?" he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"I don't know, Harry," Ginny mimicked him. "Love?"

Harry laughed, straightening up and pulling her against his chest, his legs turned toward her. She slipped one leg over the back of the seat and tucked it behind him, moving herself against his side. He smiled at her before leaning down to pick up an insect-eaten old leaf, turning it over in his fingers.

"Perhaps you should be an Auror," Harry said absently. "You have the right..." he glanced at her. "The right..."

"The right..." Ginny prompted, leaning into him to press a lingering kiss on his neck. Harry closed his eyes briefly.

"The right levels of sarcasm," he said at last, tracing his thumb over the veins of the leaf. "Just like Moody."

Ginny laughed, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "The flattery!"

He joined her in her laughter. "You asked."

"You romantic," she chided.

"I'm not romantic," he said, sliding an arm behind her back. "I'm just lusty."

Ginny shrugged, settling against his shoulder once more. "What's love when you can have sex?"

"What indeed," Harry echoed, his arm dropping down her back to cup the top curve of her bottom.

"Of course," Ginny said thoughtfully, shifting slightly, "love could possibly play a big part of this infamous future of mine."

"Who needs a future?" Harry said lazily, moving so that his legs were under hers, one on either side of the bench. He pushed himself against her, making contact with her whole body as he returned her hug, dropping his leaf. "The future's too lazy to show up until tomorrow."

Ginny felt his stirring of interest as she planted herself more securely against him. She moved her pelvis slowly, enjoying the feel of him against her. He turned his head toward hers quickly, bending to kiss her hungrily, but she stopped him with her hand, letting him kiss her fingers one by one, lingering over them.

"What about your future, Harry?" she asked softly, moving so that her head rested against his neck. She pressed her lips against the skin there, drawing her tongue across it slowly. He shivered, pulling her closer. "How's your future been treating you in the real world?"

Harry felt a moan stir from deep within himself and bubble up his throat. He closed his mouth to silence it and tried to turn to kiss her properly but she desisted, bringing her arms up around his neck and kissing patterns there, her tongue leaving no spot untouched. He couldn't stop the satisfied groan escaping his lips as he bucked against her pelvis, his blood pulsating quickly.

"My future," he said thickly, "has been all I expected. Plenty of things to do, baddies to bring down, headlines to make, parties to bang shallow girls at..."

Ginny interrupted her kissing to laugh. "My, but you've grown cynical."

He smiled wryly. "Cynical? Or hypocritical?"

Ginny considered. "Both, probably." She resumed her position, reaching up to lick his earlobe. "Is that all girls are to you?" She rose slightly from her seat, brushing against him as she ran a hand his hair. "Shallow fucks?"

Harry laughed outright. "Virginia! Since when do you refer to precious love-making as fucking? The word isn't worthy of your breath."

"Since you forced me to believe that sex is just a party game," Ginny replied, throwing caution to the wind. She let her weight sink back down, dragging her hand down through his hair and raking down his back. He twitched involuntarily, and she pressed herself tightly against his throbbing manhood. "Is this a party?"

Harry forced himself to sit still. "I thought it was a discussion about your future."

"Maybe this is my future," Ginny said, pulling back to look at him. "It seems to be the only one here at the moment."

"I could leave," Harry suggested, raising his eyebrow at her. "That could be the future."

Ginny in turn matched the movement, pulling herself up suddenly so that her jeans stretched out across his stomach. She pushed herself down onto his groin, earning a moan of surprise from him.

"Could you?" she asked, pulling herself off him and sliding back along the bench a few inches. "I don't know."

"Ginny, you minx," Harry groaned, reaching for her. She resisted the movement, rolling back slightly. He leant forward and inched forward slowly, inwardly cursing the effect the cold concrete bench was having on his trousers. He stopped just short of her, gazing at her. "What do you want me to say?"

She shrugged elegantly, turning to look at the lake again. "Maybe nothing." She licked her lips. "I mean, this is a discussion about my future, Harry. You already said it was too lazy to show up 'til tomorrow."

"That I did," he agreed, watching her trace her lips with her tongue. She glanced back toward him and saw him watching. She smiled slightly.

"I'm not one of your party bangs, am I, Harry?" she asked.

"No," he said, half-regretting the words as her eyes flashed suddenly. "You're more than that."

"So you wouldn't bang me at a party, then," she said, considering.

"No," he said. "I'd take you away from the party to a moonlit lake."

"This isn't moonlit," she pointed out.

"It may as well be," he said, stretching his arms out to the side briefly before dropping them to his lap, gazing at her intently. "For all the romance, I mean."

"This is romantic?"

"Isn't it?" he asked.

She laughed. "A discussion about my future is romantic?"

"A horny discussion," he said, pretending to be injured. "Surely that counts for something."

"Not really," she said bluntly, looking away from him. "I find romance to be something more that stirs more than my vagina."

He blinked. "Like what?"

"I don't know." She changed tack. "I think I'll be an Auror after all. It's what I always wanted."

"Sure," he agreed amiably. "That's what I am."

"The papers tell me you do a good job," she said, looking back at him with a strange glint in her eye.

"That I apparently do," he said.

"An extremely good job," she said, closing the distance between them with a quick movement, holding onto his waist with both hands and looking up into his face. "A real talent for the job, I'd say."

"What's talent?" he murmured. "What's talent without happiness?" He leaned forward and kissed her nose.

"I thought that happiness wasn't necessarily the talent," she said, frowning at him. "That means it could be."

"Maybe it is," he said thoughtfully. "Your kisses are a talent and they make me happy."

"I know other things that would make you happy," Ginny reflected.

"Like what?" Harry asked, shifting in his seat.

She let her hands fall to his legs. "Like..." she leaned forward. "Breaking curses in Flitwick's N.E.W.T. class."

"Nah," Harry said. "I want you to be an Auror with me."

"Want to keep me with you, do you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, moving back away from her. "I'm suddenly sick of being alone."

She raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And..." He changed his mind. "God, what the hell?" He moved forward again and kissed her hungrily, his hands at the small of her back, holding her against him. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he moved his hands to her waist. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he whispered. She obeyed.

Heart pounding, he swung his leg over the bench and stood up, holding Ginny to him. He surveyed his surroundings and moved swiftly to the small group of trees and bushes by the lake, pushing his way into the thick of them, shielding her from the branches. She was kissing his cheek, pressing tightly against him. He kissed her quickly on the lips before kneeling on the grass, lowering her gently. Her arms slid from around his neck as she found her bearings on the ground.

"You're so beautiful, Ginny," he said quietly, kneeling between her legs. She smiled and lifted her arms to him. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want to if you don't..."

"I do," she assured him, reaching out to him. He acquiesced, letting himself fall gently forward, catching himself on his outstretched palms. Her arms closed around his shoulders and he let his mouth explore hers, positioning his body so she didn't take all his weight.

"You've already..." she gasped, drawing away from him for breath. "You've already kissed me there," she whispered. He smiled and dropped a kiss to the opening at the top of her shirt. "Oh, Harry!" she rolled her eyes and tore at the shirt, ripping the first button out and managing to let the others slide out of the clasps quickly. He traced a finger over the contour of her breast, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his.

She twisted and arched but most of all she smiled, and that was what Harry enjoyed most about the experience. Not the kisses, the exploring hands, frenzied passion, the bucking and rising together or the climax that he eventually reached and the total explosion of the senses that occurred soon after, but the way she smiled during it.