One Hour

Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long to get up here, unfortunately there were issues with Track Changes. Thank you to ncdsbookworm for the great beta! Dedicated to Georgia.

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" ... Harry was sitting beside the window in the common room, supposedly finishing his Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour he had spent down by the lake with Ginny at lunch-time ... "

~ Chapter Twenty-Five: The Seer Overheard

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

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"Make a wish, Harry."

The dandelion is practically shoved up under his glasses; it tickles his nose. He looks up from Flesh Eating Trees of the World, squinting into sunlight and a pair of bright brown eyes.

He raises his eyebrows, but her expression doesn't change.

"What kind of wish?" he asks.

"Anything!" she huffs.

He looks at her uncertainly. "Um..."

"Ok, fine." She throws away the dandelion with an angry toss of her hand, turns, and crawls back to her spot. Picking up her abandoned textbook, propping it up against her bag and grabbing her quill, she turns her attention back to her notes. "Fine, if you're not going to do it properly, then - then - fine." Without another glance at him, she starts scribbling.

Harry thinks he may have made a mistake.

Her brows furrow in concentration. A foot goes into the air as she bends one of her knees. Slowly, her toes curl.

Suddenly, he realises that he knew what to say all along.

"Gin?"

A grunt of some kind.

"Do you want to know why I don't know what to wish for?"

A non-committal sound.

He dives in anyway. "It's cause I'm - I'm kind of happy with what I've got here."

There is a beat.

She looks up, and Harry sees her smile and lets out a breath. Dropping her quill, she crawls over slowly. "Mr. Potter," she says.

Harry thinks there might be something struck in his throat.

"I do believe that you have, once again, managed to wriggle out of a very sticky situation."

He smiles and edges forward on his elbows.

Still advancing, she continues. "Such cleverness of tongue," - he raises an eyebrow - "should be rewarded."

He opens his mouth to speak, but her lips get there first.

Her warm, wet mouth on his - he kisses back as well as he knows how. His elbows dig into the grass, his neck cranes out to meet her questing lips, and as her head turns slowly, his tongue slides in...

... He can taste her shepherd's pie, hastily shoved down their throats in an effort to get away from Ron and Hermione ...

... How long has it been since their last kiss?

... But wait, she's pulling away ...

"Harry," she reproaches. She sits up, patting her hair and eyeing him sternly, as if her kissing him was somehow his fault. He sits up as well, rubbing his sore elbows.

He sees the regretful look in her eyes. "Harry, I really have to get back to - "

An arm round her waist and a hand in her hair: he really is unaware of how he got here, he dimly registers a few seconds later - but it doesn't really matter when she's gasping against his lips and clutching desperately at his shirt. His arm circles her waist tighter and pulls her closer to him, almost onto his lap; one of her arms hangs on tightly round his neck; their kissing frenzies. Her tongue darts in and out of his mouth - he can't stand it! With an almost pained moan, the hand in her hair fists and twists her head so that he can hold it still, so that he can have her lips for his very own - but his mouth slips; instead he finds his lips attached to her pale, exposed neck, and she's moaning, a sound that Harry is sure he's never caused a girl to make before. As he kisses a freckle, she pants, "I should not - " his tongue touches her skin " - be doing this." She grabs his head and detaches his mouth from her neck, drawing it upwards to meet her lips.

"Hermione told me - " he gasps between kisses, " - to stop - " Her lips clamp onto his tongue and she suckles it in her mouth. Losing it completely, he groans against her lips and yanks her onto his lap properly.

"Hermione told me - " Ginny pants, as Harry's hand slides round her hips, just brushing the downy hairs of her lower back, " - to stop - letting you - " His hand reaches round to her other hip and he pulls her even further onto his lap. With another moan, Ginny grabs Harry's collar and sinks down to the grass, dragging him down with her.

Pinning her to the ground, Harry devours her mouth. Her hips rub upwards against his, his hands shoots up her shirt, claiming their territory, squeezing the cup of a breast -

- and then he realises what he's doing and he freezes.

"I didn't - " he stutters. "I don't - I'm not - mean to - "

Ashamedly, he meets her eyes.

Slowly, Ginny smiles. She reaches up and takes his hand, and gently moves it up her body, under that stiff wire and actually into the bra...

Oh - oh wow...

He prods experimentally, and her hips rock, pressing his - bulge into her - her - down there, and he groans ... but she's making a weird noise, she sounds frustrated, she's pushing at his wrists - wait - wait, what's she -? She shoves at his shoulders and almost sends him sprawling.

"What?"

"Hang on a sec - "

She is reaching behind herself, frowning in concentration at a spot on her left knee. A second later, it's done, whatever it was, and she grabs him and drags him back down to the grass.

At an encouraging nod from her, his hand creeps back up to where it was - wait, this time, his hand just slides under the bra - she undid it! - and there's freedom, freedom to move around - he can get both his hands up here at the same time -

Ginny is laughing, her hair catching the sunlight, and she tries to draw Harry's head back down to hers - but he stays vaguely upright: his fingers probe anxiously as he stares at her shirt. He grabs the bottom of it and lifts it up -

"Stop it!" A half-giggle, half-shriek and she's clamped onto his wrists with her hands.

"What?"

Ginny's expression is one of shock. "Don't - don't look - "

"How am I supposed to see what I'm doing?"

For a second, Ginny just stares at him. Then, putting a hand on the back of his neck, she draws his head down to hers. "Just feel," she whispers in his ear.

He bites his lip.

Gently, she moves one of his hands back under her shirt, placing it on her belly. She removes his glasses and drops them in their nest of crumpled parchment. "And you can kiss me while you do, as well," she adds.

Their lips meet; she grabs his hair as his hands go, once more, into uncharted territory; and soon he is lost in her warmth and her curves and her - Oh God! Her curves - hands groping, fingers squeezing, and lips kissing, kissing, kissing - their collective pants grow faster and faster, his hands push harder, grabbing everything there is to grab -

"Harry - " Her hands are on his shoulders, and once more, she pushes him back. "We've got to stop."

He doesn't think he can manage speech.

Eventually he forces out, "Why?"

"Because we can't - we're not - "

"Oh. Oh - oh, right."

The air between them is heavy with the unsaid words.

Hesitantly, he lowers himself onto his side and puts an arm under her head. "Can we just stay like this, then?"

"Mmmkay." She snuggles into his chest.

He plays with a curl of her hair. Her eyes follow his fingers. Far away, some second-years are shrieking. A breeze ruffles the surface of the lake and causes the leaves of the trees to whisper together. Ginny fumbles around among the snapped quills for his glasses, and hands them to him. He slides them onto his face, and his head falls back.

Somewhere, an owl hoots.

"You never made your wish," says Ginny.

There is a pause.

"It appears not."

"Seriously though, what would you wish for?"

"I dunno, I - " he stops. "It's just - the rest of my life - I don't want to think about it when I'm with you." Another pause. "What would you wish for?"

"To be rescued by Prince Charming, of course - " she rolls over onto her front. "Oh no, wait - already done that! Well," she eyes him, "Prince Fumbling, more like - "

"Hey! You seemed to quite like my fumbling - "

"Well ... you were never much use to me as a prince anyway."

"What d'you mean?" He blinks at her.

"Well, Harry, it just meant that I spent the whole summer after first year thinking, 'He saved my life! It's destiny!'" She sighs. "Unfortunately for destiny, you were off chasing Cho Chang - "

"I was not chasing Cho Chang until at least fourth year - "

"Don't lie to me, Potter, I saw that match you played against her in my second year - broke my poor heart - "

"And she was always chasing me, not the other way round - "

"Um, who asked who to the Yule Ball?"

"Well, she was the one that kissed me - "

"Really?" Ginny stops, her face curious.

"Yeah!" He raises his eyebrows. "Didn't Hermione tell you? She seems to have told you everything else."

"Probably sparing my poor feelings," Ginny dismisses, but then her eyes narrow. "Do you normally tell Hermione this sort of stuff?"

"No! It was - I think ... I think she asked me..." His gaze grows distant. "Ron asked me how it was, and I said 'wet'."

Ginny bursts out laughing.

"I meant because she'd been crying!" Harry tries to explain over her snorts of laughter, but his efforts go unnoticed. Among her tears, Ginny manages to gasp out, "Maybe it's your fault ... that it took Ron ... so long ... wet." And then she's gone again. Harry shakes his head, and tries to fight the grin that threatens to take over his face.

Side by side, they are lying on their backs; the sky stretches out forever in front of them. As Ginny's laughter subsides, Harry's fingers drift into her hair again. Her eyes close.

"I've got a wish," she says sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"I wish that we'll always stay this happy," she says.

Harry sits up on his arm, surveying her. "I'll - I'll wish to that," he says softly. Her eyes open and meet his, and he internally curses the blush spreading across his face.

Quickly, she rolls over and scrambles around among her books for the abandoned dandelion. Finding it, she sits up and twists round to face him. "Ready, then?"

"Together?" he grins at her.

"On the count of three?" she cocks an eyebrow.

He sits up straighter. "One." His hand joins hers on the dandelion stem.

"Two." She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Three." His eyes glitter behind his glasses.

Together, they blow the dandelion out.

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