Coming Into His Own

Chapter 2: A Night With His Foes

Harry could still hear the loud bass of the music thumping in his ears long after the song had ended. He didn't know what brought him back to that club night after night - actually he did know. He had been filled with many questions those days after he and Justin had first ventured there. His mind had been plagued with many hopes of seeing Hermione again, ever since he caught her gazing down at him from the second floor.

He reached into his pocket and took out three pounds for his lemonade and handed it to the bartender. The other man gave him a weird look, before taking the money and walking back to the cash register. Harry knew the man thought he was odd; most people who ventured to the establishment often danced or mingled, while he would only stand at the bar, sipping on his drink. He could have at least attempted to join the crowd out on the dance floor - he had certainly gotten enough offers from several young ladies - but he preferred his location.

He gazed up at the empty second floor. There had been a birthday party in the VIP section the night before; but now, its leather chairs remained unoccupied. His eyes then darted around the room, in search of any dark haired young ladies. He had seen several girls with wavy brown hair, one of whom he even followed to the ladies' room, but none of them were Hermione. He took a sip of his lemonade and placed the glass on the bar counter, when he felt someone brush up against him. He turned his head to the left and found himself staring at a familiar young man.

Although the other man's long blond hair obscured his face, Harry immediately recognized him. He froze in place when he heard the man order a glass of wine. The blond's voice had gotten slightly deeper, but it still possessed the spite and arrogance that were there when they both attended Hogwarts.

Although Harry had experienced a lot of grief from the other man during their teenage years - which would have caused any other hot blooded man to punch him on the spot or walk to the other end of the room to avoid talking to him - he found himself unable to draw his gaze from him.

Feelings of hostility that normally would have been induced by the man's presence was not there, as Harry's feelings towards him had dramatically changed during their last night at Hogwarts

Upon the Creevey brothers' tragic deaths, Harry had charged Voldemort. But he found himself overtaken by the man's group of Death Eaters. His hands were then bound and he was dragged into the school's courtyard, where the Dark Lord was to finally dispose of him. But while the Dark Lord had his back turned for a moment, Harry could feel someone cutting the ropes that were tightly wrapped around his wrists. The person behind him never said a word, as his knife set his hands free. But upon glancing over his shoulder before the other person crept away into the darkness, Harry caught a glimpse of the young man's silvery hair and gray eyes.

Harry had spent weeks afterwards wondering why Draco even bothered to help him. He assumed that one night of generosity would leave him forever indebted to Draco; but no requests had surfaced from the other man for all those years.

Harry continued to stare at the other man, who was only a few feet away from him. His eyes traveled up and down the length of Draco's body, taking in every detail. Even though every other male in the club was dressed casually in jeans, Draco was dressed in a black suit. He wore his hair in the same manner as he did while in school, but it had now grown almost to his shoulders. Although he was well groomed, he looked out of place amongst the mostly middleclass clientele.

It surprised Harry that a man of Draco's status and upbringing was not at ritzy Stringfellows, which was always populated by rich businessmen and their trophy significant others. Harry had been to the club on several occasions with his friends Serge and Francois, but he always felt out of place there. Harry brought his hand to his head and smoothed back his hair; although he had made an effort to dress up just in case he ran into Hermione, his appearance was not nearly as impeccable as Draco's.

While it had been many years since they'd seen one another, Harry was very knowledgeable about what Draco did for employment, as he was often featured in the Business Section of Muggle newspapers.

After the downfall of the Death Eaters, the Malfoy family's power and riches had greatly diminished. The Ministry had captured Lucius, who was the only Death Eater not killed on the spot, in hopes that he would provide information on the whereabouts of other Voldemort supporters. Lucius, of course, had not cooperated. His trial had cost the family a great deal of money; it was said that Narcissa had to sell much of Malfoy Manor's furnishings to pay for their lawyer. But Lucius never got any real justice, as he escaped from the Ministry's jail a week before he was to be sentenced to Azkaban.

Draco and his mother were thus left to fend for themselves and without the help of their former business associates - who were eager to disassociate themselves from any Death Eaters, lest they wanted to be interrogated by Ministry officials.

With the help of his enormous trust fund, Draco was able to strive and eventually emerged several months later in the Muggle world as a real estate mogul. In the span of two years, Draco had gained much success as the owner of several high-class hotels around the city. Harry shook his head at the thought that Draco now had to rely on people his family greatly detested to make his money. But his mother surely did not have trouble accepting tainted currency, as it kept her in the lifestyle in which she was accustomed. The last time Harry saw Mrs. Malfoy, she was dressed in her usual fur coat.

However, no amount of money could cushion the Malfoys' lives; mother and son were under constant watch from the Ministry. Harry's last encounter with Narcissa had actually occurred in the Ministry, when she attended a bi-monthly meeting with Mr. Fudge. The meetings were developed so Narcissa could provide the Ministry with any information about Death Eater plans she might have heard. Although they never gained any information from the reluctant woman, the meetings' chief purpose was to humiliate her and serve as an annoying reminder of what could happen to those who ventured into the Dark Arts.

And with the help of Muggle authorities, the Ministry was able to keep close watch of Draco's money flow. They wanted to ensure that none of his money was going to support Death Eater activities.

Draco leaned against the bar and took a sip of his drink. He made a face the moment the alcohol touched his lips. He forcefully slammed the glass onto the counter, almost breaking it in the process. "Cheap wine," he muttered under his breath. He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He fumbled around his coat for several more moments in search of a lighter.

Harry glanced down at the bar and stared at the book of matches that lay near his fingers. He hesitated for a long while, before he grabbed them and reached out his hand to the other man.

Draco slowly turned his head and eyed the hand that was now hovering only inches away from his face. His gaze slowly traveled along Harry's arm, until they finally made eye contact. His face stayed placid, as he glanced at Harry through expressionless eyes. He remained silent for several minutes as he observed the man offering him the matches. But then a look of disgust spread on his fair features as he looked away.

Harry brought his arm back to his side. He felt foolish with his actions; deep down, he knew Draco would never accept anything from him. He just wished he had walked away, instead of embarrassing himself. He didn't know what propelled him to make such an offering, as he and Draco had never been cordial to one another. He tossed the matches onto the counter and moved to the other end of the bar.

Draco reached into the inner pocket of his jacket once more and finally found his elusive silver plated lighter. Harry watched him light his cigarette and bring it to his lips. This act normally would have filled him with disgust, as he looked down on the practice, but the artful way Draco took puffs from the corner of his mouth fascinated him.

A young lady soon approached Draco. She was the same woman Harry and Justin had seen on their first night to the club. She was a permanent fixture at the establishment, as Harry had seen her there nearly every night since, usually surrounded by a herd of men. But she was deserving of the attention, Harry thought.

The woman engaged in some light banter with the bartender, before turning her attention to Draco. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before," she said.

Draco did not respond, nor did he acknowledge that she had even spoken.

She lifted her hand and placed it on the collar of his jacket. "You really stand out from the rest of the riff raff that come--"

"Don't touch me," Draco finally said in a low voice as the cigarette dangled from his lips.

But the woman kept her hand steady on his jacket, until Draco forcefully pushed her fingers away. He then continued to stare straight ahead of him. The woman didn't leave immediately, and spent several minutes staring at him; she was probably shocked that a man had actually rejected her, Harry thought. But even she had her pride and eventually walked away, all the while throwing him glances over her shoulder.

A look of disdain formed on Draco's face as he watched her leave. He then mumbled something under his breath. Harry could have sworn the blond had uttered the same offensive word that had enraged Ron in the past, and often reduced Hermione to tears.

Harry clasped his hands together and lowered his head. While getting over his humiliation, he caught the conversation of two men sitting several feet away. He recognized the older man as Simon McCloud, the owner of the club and other such establishments throughout London. He was also dressed in a suit and talking in a hushed voice to a young man.

"I don't feel comfortable with you selling the club to him," said the young man. "Let's wait out for another offer."

Mr. McCloud pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the beads of sweat off his brow. "What other offers? No one else has been calling about buying this place. And God knows we can't afford the upkeep. And Mr. Malfoy has lots of money. Plus, he's offering us a good deal."

"But I don't trust him. I've done some background checks on him, and no one can give me any information on what he was doing prior to 1998. There's nothing on his schooling or even his family."

"So?"

The young man placed his hand on Mr. McCloud's shoulder. "I have a very bad feeling about him. I think he might be involved in something illegal." He leaned towards the other man's ear and lowered his voice. "The other day, some guys came over here asking about him. They seemed particularly interested in his method of payment to us. So, I'm thinking, this guy must be involved in some criminal activity."

The elderly man pulled away and started to laugh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But people just don't show up out of nowhere with large sums of money. Plus, nobody knows a single thing about him. If he's involved in illegal activity, he might drags us into it."

"David, will you please calm down? He's just some kid whose parents probably have a lot of connections. His other businesses seem to be legit, so I'm going to trust him."

After bickering back and forth with one another for several more minutes, both men got up from their seats and walked towards Draco. Mr. McCloud placed his arm around him and led him to a back room.

Harry stayed in club for a few more minutes, before leaving. He walked by the long line of people who were still waiting to enter, and ventured down a dark alleyway. He waited until the man and woman snogging against the brick wall - who flashed him a frustrated look, as he had interrupted their tryst - left, before he apparated home.

He immediately went to his bathroom to take a shower. He actually had other plans that night, and wanted to rid himself of the cigarette smoke that had permeated the club and had embedded itself in his clothes and hair. He was to have dinner that night with the Weasley clan. He, in fact, had been invited to the house several times that week, but had turned down the offers because he knew Ron would be present. But now, the other man was away with his team playing against the Arrows.

The rest of the clan never did understand why he and Ron never socialized with one another anymore. At first, they assumed their professional lives had taken up much of their free time; but after many social events where he and Ron would stand at opposite ends of the room, Harry assumed they all knew something was not right between them.

As he finished getting dressed, he considered gathering some of Ginny's possessions and bringing them over to her house. But he knew the act would embarrass the young lady. He ventured to his refrigerator to get the bouquet of flowers and apparated to The Burrow.

While he stood at the door, Harry could hear the laughter wafting from inside the house. He didn't need to knock, as the door flew open immediately. He was then greeted with a hug from Molly, as she ushered him inside the house. The place looked surprisingly different from when he last visited, as there was more space. He assumed they added another section to the living room to fit their extended family, which included him.

In the living room sat the usual family members, plus their significant others. Charlie sat on the large sofa with his wife Yelena. Bill sat cross-legged on the floor. He was still very much a bachelor, much to his mother's chagrin. Percy was in the corner alone. Penelope normally would have accompanied him, but that relationship had fizzled the year before; the young man had put his work at the Ministry above romance. Although he always said he was content and found much peace with being on his own - "Why do I need love, when my work is just as fulfilling?" he was always heard saying - one could tell by his downcast eyes that something was missing in his life.

And then there were the twins. Fred had developed a serious relationship with a young Muggle several months before. The romance built somewhat of a barrier between him and his brother; for the first time in their lives, they did not live together, as Fred was now sharing a flat with Katherine. And now the couple sat in a small chair, whispering to one another and exchanging looks, as George watched.

Ginny was in he kitchen helping her mother with the food. After the destruction of Hogwarts, her family had considered sending her to Beauxbatons to finish her schooling. But the money would have been tight, as the French school's tuition was much higher, especially for students who were not French residents. The twins and Ron had offered to fork up the money for their sister, but Molly and Authur had been adamant about not accepting it; they wanted their children to use their hard earned cash on themselves.

But fortunately for them, Minerva McGonagall started up a school, The Dumbledore Academy, for all former Hogwarts students. Ginny had graduated in 1999 and now worked in the Ministry's day care center. Everyday at noon, she would venture to the fifth floor of the building to have lunch with her father. But Harry noticed from the very beginning that she often spent more time in his office than in her father's.

"Mother, I think the casserole's ready," said Ginny. She walked to the dining room to set the table, when she caught a glimpse of Harry.

Harry had seen her the moment he stepped into the house, but had purposely wandered into the living room to avoid talking to her. He looked down, as he assumed she would immediately approach him. But she stayed put in the dining room. They exchanged a glance for a moment, before she looked away. Harry was about to take a seat next to the melancholy Percy when he realized he was still holding the flowers in his hand. He ventured to the kitchen and stood in the entryway. "I have something for you," he said.

Both Molly and Ginny turned around to stare at him. Ginny's eyes lit up in surprise when she saw the bouquet. But the smile on her lips quickly disappeared and turned sour when Harry handed the flowers to her mother. She turned her back to him once more, and continued with her activity.

Harry dropped his head the moment he caught sight of Ginny's expression. The bouquet was only a gesture of gratitude to Molly for the support she had given him all those years, and was not meant to hurt Ginny in any way - so he said to himself.

The meal was a nosy affair, as everyone at the table seemed to be talking at once. Ginny sat beside Harry at the table. During the course of thirty minutes, she had not uttered a word to him, nor glanced his way; he knew she was still fuming over the flowers. He had considered buying her a bouquet as well, but he didn't want to lead her on or give the impression that there was more to their relationship.

Harry enjoyed his roast beef and listened to the various conversations that were taking place at the table. He was especially straining to hear what the twins were talking about, as they whispered to one another - much to the annoyance of Fred's girlfriend, who was left out of the mix. Feeling sorry for her, Harry leaned over and tried to engage her in conversation. "How long have you and Fred been dating?"

"We celebrated our eight month anniversary last week." She turned her head and watched as her betrothed shared a laugh with his brother. "He can be really attentive at times." She said this loud enough for everyone to hear; but the one person she hoped would catch her statement was too busy giggling with his brother.

Harry turned his attention back to his food, when he felt her hand on his face.

"You have an eyelash on your cheek," she said.

He moved away when her finger came surprisingly close to his eye. She wrapped her fingers around his chin and redirected his gazed towards her. "I got it," she said. But she did not move away once she had completed her task and continued to stare at him. "You have lovely eyes."

A nervous smile crinkled onto the corner of Harry's lips. Over her shoulder, Harry could see Fred glance in his direction. The twin then leaned forward and say, "Stop flirting with my girlfriend, you already have your own."

Harry lowered his head to hide his embarrassment, as some at the table began to laugh. He soon felt Ginny's fingers wrap around his own. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiling as their gazes flittered from him to their daughter. Harry normally would have pulled his hand away, as he wasn't one for public displays of affection - especially in front of the girl's family - but Ginny's touch was soothing. So, he allowed her the luxury of touching his arm every so often and even placing her fingers on his thigh.

Minutes later, everyone heard a rustling coming from the entryway. There was a loud clatter that sounded like a piece of wood falling onto the floor. Those echoing noises were then followed by rapid footsteps. Before anyone could get out of their seats to investigate, the missing Weasley brother strolled into the room.

"I hope there's room at the table for one more," said Ron.

Molly got up from her seat and fetched another plate from the cabinet. "I thought you had a game tonight."

"I did. But we finished early. We were only out there for several minutes before the seeker caught the snitch. And since I had nowhere else to go, I thought I'd join you guys for a meal." He ran his hands through his hair, which was still wet. He took a seat between Percy and Charlie, and reached over for slice of roast beef, when he spotted Harry sitting across from him.

Neither one said a word, as their eyes stayed fixed on the another. That was the first time they had been in such close proximity. Harry looked away first, as the glare in Ron's eyes was too intense. He glanced down at his food and watched from the corner of his eye as Ron filled his plate with roast beef and potatoes, and began eating. But when Ron had his head turned while he chatted with Charlie, Harry took a good look at him. He noticed several small scars on the other man's jaw line from the hits he had received during the Cannons' previous matches.

"I hear," said Authur, "the seeker you guys have now is terrific."

Ron wiped his mouth. "Yeah. He's world-class material. I don't think we would have gotten this far without him. He's definitely going to win some kind of award when the season's through."

"Harry, it's too bad you don't play Quidditch anymore," said Yelena. "You were a very good seeker, I hear. I remember the Bombers tried to do everything to lure you to play for them. They even offered you the biggest contract in Quidditch history. You would have had a percentage of the whole club's revenue. Didn't the Cannons want you as well?"

Harry pushed his plate away and slowly nodded.

"It's a shame you went to work for the Ministry--"

"What's wrong with working for the Ministry?" asked Percy.

Yelena took a sip of her drink. "I never said there was anything wrong with it per se. It's just that he and Ron would have been on the same team."

Ron banged his fork against his plate, as his sister-in-law's statement brought back bitter memories of when he attended tryouts for various Quidditch clubs in the league. It was a known fact that Harry would have set the record for the enormous salary the Luxembourg squad was offering him - it was four times that of the next highest paid player, Krum - but it was little known knowledge that the Cannons would only consider adding Ron to their roster if he convinced his friend to come on board.

Unwilling to talk to Harry, and a little insulted by the request, Ron spent the beginnings of his career playing in the Quidditch Minor League. It was only when one of its players suffered a bludger to the head that the Cannons called him onto the team. Although the redhead was now a fairly important player on the team, and was paid a salary that enabled him to purchase a lovely house in Devon, it still irked him that he could never escape the shadow of his more famous friend.

Everyone at the table glanced at the two men sitting across from one another. They all expected one of them to make a comment of, "Yeah, it would have been great to be on the same team," but they both remained quiet. But while Harry tried to look preoccupied in his food by twirling his potatoes around on his plate, Ron opted for a defiant stance as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms tightly against his chest.

The silence continued for several more minutes as all eyes darted from Harry to Ron, in attempts to discover what was happening between them. Charlie caught the tense way Ron's brows were creased, and the grimace that was spreading on Harry's face. Seeing that his wife was going to say something else, he lightly touched her arm. "Honey," he said, "I think Harry is quite happy with his job at the Ministry and doesn't want to think about the past."

Yelena glanced around the table, trying to figure out what she could have said wrong. Charlie wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his body.

The table was quiet once more, only now populated by the occasional low hum of Fred whispering to his girlfriend. But it was Molly who broke the silence when she got up to clear the dishes. "I saw Hermione the other day," she said in an excited voice. "We bumped into one another at Diagon Alley."

Harry, who was slouching in his chair, immediately sat up straight. His heart then fluttered at the mention of the young woman. The topic also piqued the interest of the young man sitting across from him, as his eyes widened. The two men then looked at one another and held the other's gaze for a long time.

As she grabbed Harry's plate, Molly tapped her daughter on the shoulder and she too began to clear the table. "She was a little vague about what she was doing back here," continued Mrs. Weasley. She and Ginny went into the kitchen and deposited the dishes in the sink. But they later reappeared carrying a bowl each of sticky toffee pudding. "She looks really lovely. Why neither one of you ended up with her is beyond me." Her hand lightly grazed Harry's neck when she walked by him.

Harry gripped the arm of his chair, as he and Ron continued their face off. But Ron's stare suddenly switched to being more unpleasant. Harry eventually looked away; but he could still feel his former friend's eyes burning into him. That was the look Ron always gave him in the halls of Hogwarts. Those brown eyes never ceased to make Harry feel guilty for apparently stealing Hermione away from him.

Harry stayed with his head lowered for much longer and even ignored the bowl of pudding that was placed in front of him. But after enduring Ron's unrelenting glare for some time - the other boy was clearly an expert at playing the victim - Harry got up from the table.

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley, "are you leaving already?"

"Yes, I have a busy day tomorrow." He glanced over at Arthur, who was giving him a weary smile; they both knew there would be a mountain of paperwork waiting on their desks the next morning. While he was leaving the dining room, he considered wishing Ron luck on the next night's game against the Falcons, the league's top team. He decided against it when he caught the smug expression on the young man's face.

He bid his farewell to everyone and wandered to the closet to get his jacket. But while still standing by the door, Ginny slowly approached him.

She leaned against the wall and watched him for a moment. "It's still kinda early," she said. "You don't have to leave right away, do you?"

"I have to start getting into the routine of going to bed early again." He placed his hands into his jacket pocket and rocked back and forth. He glanced her way; her eyes were still on him. "Do you want to come over?" he finally asked. "There's some of your things still at my house, and I thought you might want them back."

The crinkle on the corner of her lips slowly faded, but she agreed to go with him nonetheless "I'll go tell my parents," she said.

Harry quickly grabbed her arm. "I don't think there's any reason to inform them. You'll only be gone a few minutes at the most." Even though this was true, deep down Harry had another reason for not wanting her to say anything to her family about their excursion. Although most of the Weasley clan was very supportive of him and Ginny seeing one another - Ron was ambiguous - Harry didn't want to publicize the fact that she had slept over his house on several occasions.

Ginny simply nodded, although the disappointment was evident on her face. She dearly wanted to make that announcement to her family, as some of them had begun to wonder about the state of their 'relationship,' since they were spending less time together. She would have used that opportunity to reassure them, and herself, that she and Harry were truly an item.

**********

The flat was dark, except for the small glimmer of light from the hallway, which Harry always kept on. And while he took off his shoes and jacket, Ginny wasted no time in collecting her possessions. Harry sat on the bed and watched her walk into his bathroom and place her toiletries into her purse.

He then began to wonder why things were not more relaxed between them; their interactions had become a tug of war those past couple of months. But he could clearly remember a time when things were far different. During his seventh year, he had regarded her as a true friend. And he never tried to avoid her in the school halls, like he did during work.

They should have been living together by then, so say some of his co-workers. But it's been difficult for him to push aside his past relationship with Hermione, especially since it was left unresolved.

He lazily reached underneath his bed and pulled out the small wooden box that contained the letters and other trinkets Ginny had sent him over the years. He pushed the letters aside and glanced down at the bottom of the container. His eyes widened as he stared at the small collection of hair, which was tied together with a piece of thread. He'd forgotten he even had it. He reached for it, when he heard Ginny coming out of the bathroom. He quickly placed the contents back in the box and slid the container under his bed.

"I think I got everything," she said. "I'm sorry I inconvenienced you with my stuff."

She didn't look at him while she talked and kept her voice steady. But he knew there was much more underneath that cool exterior. She flung her bag over her shoulder and began to head out of the room.

"Why don't you stay the night?" he suggested. "We can just go to work together. And since you already have some extra clothes here--" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, as she was soon sitting by his side.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to force myself on you."

"I'm fine with it."

She stayed on the bed for several more minutes, running her fingers through his hair and bestowing him with a pleased smile. But she eventually got up and headed for his closet. She naturally grabbed his flannel nightshirt, which she had worn many times before.

Harry sat up and watched her get undressed. His eyes roamed up and down her body as she removed her shirt and jeans. There was no doubt that she knew what he was doing, as she could clearly see him through the full-length mirror that was only a few feet away. When it was time for him to get ready for bed, Harry went into the bathroom.

The room was aglow with the flooding rays of the moonlight that cascaded through the window behind the bed when Harry and Ginny finally retired for the night. And just as usual, Ginny's hand reached for his chest, as her fingers traveled up and down his skin. She then leaned forward and kissed him.

"I've really missed you these past couple of days," she murmured against his lips, as her arms went around his shoulders. Although her happiness was clearly evident in her voice, some sadness could also be detected. She had been very upset when he asked her to keep her distance from him during their extended holiday. She had hoped they would spend that time together building the foundations for a strong relationship. She even bought precautions for what she hoped would be their first night together.

She placed a fluster of kisses along his cheek. She was going to head for his mouth once more, but pulled back and glanced at him. Her brown eyes caught the uninterested look on his face.

"I just want to go to bed," he said. He didn't wait for her to reply before he began to fluff his down pillow. Facing away from her, he lay on his side. He soon felt her warm fingers along his back; but she did not utter any words to accompany her touch. Those series of light scrapes against his skin with her fingernails was how she indicated she was interested in much more than sleep that night. But Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he was sleeping.

Ginny eventually gave up all hopes that he would turn around, and went to sleep.

*************

While he lay in that bed with Ginny's arm draped over his chest, Harry's dream brought him back to that sunny day in April of 1998.

The other boys in his dorm had gone to enjoy various activities around the castle that Saturday, allowing him and Hermione some time to themselves. Normally, he would have suggested they find another room in the castle to be alone, but that day was different.

With the curtains pulled around them, he and Hermione spent much of their time lying on his bed. He draped his arm around her bare waist and pulled her close for a kiss. He could taste the sweat on her lips as his mouth met hers. They then spent several minutes staring up at the ceiling, letting their minds fill with tantalizing recollections of what had just happened. Harry brought his hand to her head and buried his fingers in the gentle curls. "Why don't you give me some of your hair," he finally said. "Just a little to keep with me."

She didn't hesitate to agree to the sentimental gesture. And as she trimmed a small section of her hair for him, Harry allowed his to hand to explore her chest and glide over her excited breasts, which were still moist from his mouth.

The dream caused Harry's eyes to snap open. He glanced over at Ginny; she was sound asleep. He closed his eyes shut, but could not get Hermione out of his mind. He then spent thirty minutes looking out into his semi dark bedroom and wishing for sleep.

Ginny rolled over in her sleep and wound up with her back turned to him. Harry eyed her for a moment. He then moved towards her until his chest was pressing against her back. His dream had ignited so many yearnings within him; his desire for bodily contact was now aroused. He lifted his hand and allowed his fingers to slowly glide down the length of her arm. His hand moved to her face, where he placed the lightest of caresses on her cheek and then along the outline of her full lips. He raised his head to see if his touch had awoken her; she was still asleep. He continued like this for several more minutes, until sleep finally found him. He wrapped his arm around her body and closed his eyes.

Ginny finally opened her eyes after she heard him softly snore into her ear. A smile now spread on her lips, as she placed her hand on that strong arm that was around her body. Being the recipient of his touches had been difficult for her; she had to fight back the urge to roll over and caress him in return. But she knew he would have moved away the moment he saw that she was awake. She closed her eyes and imagined that his fingers were still gliding along her body. She drifted off to sleep with those same thoughts dancing in her head.