Watching a Kiss in the Rain

Watching a Kiss in the Rain

To be perfectly honest, Ginny was incredibly jealous when she eavesdropped on Ron, Harry, and Hermione's conversation. The trio was sitting in the common room, talking about some sort of kiss that Harry got from Cho Chang under the mistletoe in the Room of Requirement.

"How was it, mate?" Ron asked.

"Wet," said Harry.

And Ginny winced. Somehow, she wanted a kiss dearly from Harry. And this thought frightened her.

The tall redheaded girl scurried up to the dorms silently, thinking over this, pacing. This could not be happening. Ginny Weasley did not like Harry Potter. She was over him. Of course, she wasn't exactly dating anyone, so she couldn't really use that to prove it, but she just didn't like him, okay? Right.

Right.

Right...

Wrong! No! This as something that could not happen! It wasn't fair! Ginny Weasley did not, in fact, like Harry Potter. She didn't.

So then, why were all these jealous rages surging up to her head, directed, for the most part, at Cho Chang? Ginny couldn't quite be certain.

But one thing was for sure: she did not like Harry Potter.

She didn't, okay?!

Right.

***

For the next few days, Ginny began wondering what it would be like to actually kiss someone. Inquiring minds wanted to know! She had never experienced a real kiss before--what would it be like? The curiosity grew and grew until it was nearly unbearable, and finally Ginny couldn't stand it any longer.

She grabbed Neville Longbottom, looked him in the eye, and brought her face toward his...

...and then asked, "Tell me the truth--what was the History of Magic essay about?" She had chickened out. After Neville told her the answer to her "question," Ginny nodded a quick "thank you" and scurried off.

She'd never be kissed in her entire life--of that, she was sure. As she walked out to the grounds, she witnessed a first kiss in the summer rain. Two second-years, so scared and nervous and terrified...and finally their lips met, innocently, naïvely, and for the first time, and a shock of something--perhaps that electricity stuff her father so often spoke of--passed through the couple, and they slowly relaxed into the kiss. Four eyelids fluttered closed as the rain fell down on the pair and neither of them notised, both too absorbed in the kiss to care.

Ginny wanted to not care. She wanted to be kissed--not that she'd ever admit it to anyone.

***

Walking down the hall back from breakfast one day, after having drunk a bit of pumpkin juice, unable to eat, Ginny headed for the common room. But just as she was about to recite the password to the Fat Lady's portrait, she heard a voice behind her. "Ginny," someone called.

A chill ran up Ginny's spine. That voice was too familiar.

Harry.

Slowly, Ginny turned, collecting herself before she had to talk to him. "Harry," she greeted him, a small, half-hearted smile pasted on her face. "How are--"

But Ginny never got to finish the question, because as she turned, she found his face an inch away from hers, and she knew what was going to happen next--but barely had time to register it before his lips caressed hers, pulling back on them softly. And finally, Ginny received the opportunity to taste delight; and delight tasted like Harry. Mmm...her favourite flavour.

And finally, Ginny received her first kiss. It was the closest to heaven she had ever got.