- Story Summary:
- It's date night. With Thai food.
Harry had gotten an owl from Ginny earlier that week. She had a long weekend off from training coming up and was planning to spend most of it with him. She told him she had a surprise for him.
Friday came, and Harry was impatiently waiting for Ginny to Apparate to his flat. He heard the pop of someone Apparating on his doormat, and ran to the door. Ginny was standing there, clutching her broom, wearing her practice uniform. She must have Apparated directly after practice. She was sweaty, her hair coming out of the tight plait she wore for practices and games, and she was wearing the sexiest practice uniform he'd ever seen. The Harpies' colors were dark green and gold and the form-fitting tank top and shorts certainly were dark green with the Harpies talon in gold on the front of the tank top and Ginny's name and number, also in gold, on the back it. The shorts weren't that form fitting, Harry decided, but they certainly showed off more of Ginny than he wanted other men seeing. Harry goggled at her, suddenly lightheaded.
Ginny's eyes twinkled at Harry's reaction. 'You like 'em?' she asked playfully. Harry's only answer was to pull Ginny inside and close the door. His hand cupped the back of her head, as he lustily kissed her, pressing her hand against him to show him just how much he did like it. Harry started walking backward and tripped over the hearth rug. He landed on his back, Ginny sprawled over him. 'Did you learn that move in your Auror training, Potter?' she asked, laughing.
Harry considered their position, and figured the hearth rug worked just as well as the sofa or the bed. 'No, but I learned this one,' he said, flipping Ginny over so their positions were reversed. 'So, Weasley, are you going to take your kit off, or do I have to persuade you?' Ginny wiggled against him.
'I think I need some persuasion,' she purred.
Harry pushed the hem of the tank top up over her stomach, licking the trail of sweat that snaked down the center of her body. He pulled off Ginny's boots and tossed them in the general direction of the door. He slid his hands up Ginny's legs to where the hem of her shorts fell, and yanked them off. Harry blinked; the dark green material bunched his hands. 'Ginny,' he hissed, 'where the bloody hell are your knickers?'
'Can't wear knickers with those,' she said cheerfully. 'I don't imagine you wore your boxers in your Quidditch uniform,' Ginny said, eyeing Harry critically. Harry felt his jaw drop. He hadn't; of course, the trousers under the robes had been too snug to allow for his beloved boxers. But this was different. This was Ginny, for Merlin's sake! 'Um. Harry?' Ginny's voice broke into the haze brought on by the exposed expanse of Ginny, laid out in front of him like a feast.
'Wha...?' he managed to get out.
'I think you're a bit overdressed for this occasion.' Ginny took advantage of his momentary distraction and lunged for his shirt, popping more than a few buttons as she dragged it over his head. That dropped Harry out of his reverie and he pinned Ginny's arms over her head.
'You can't tell me,' he said, nipping her neck, 'that those pathetic excuses for knickers you wear will actually show under those shorts?'
'I thought you liked my - what did you call them? - pathetic excuses for knickers!'
'Oh, I do...' Harry trailed off, as his head traveled further down her body, 'especially the black ones... the ones you wore on your seventeenth birthday.' Harry swirled his tongue around her navel and his head dipped even lower, making Ginny squirm. Harry had let go of her of her hands, and she found her hands in his hair. Ginny thought she saw one of the twin's fireworks go off in her head. Harry kissed the inside of her left thigh, and worked his way back up to her face.
Ginny lay on the hearth rug, waiting for her pulse to return to something that somewhat resembled normal. She turned her head, and saw Harry smirking at her, an inordinately pleased look on his face. 'Right,' she murmured, hands at the waist of Harry's jeans. 'Oh my...' she grinned. 'It looks like you have a bit of a problem.' All coherent thought fled Harry's head, as Ginny deftly undid the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. Harry shifted so she could pull off his jeans and boxers. Ginny pulled the hair elastic off the end of her plait, and she shook out her hair, so it fell in fire-bright ripples to her waist. Harry wasn't too sure what Ginny was planning on doing, but he had an idea when he felt her hair brush against his bare stomach. Harry thought his head was going to explode. He threaded his fingers through Ginny's hair, stroking her head. It wasn't the first time she had done this, but Harry had always been a bit apprehensive about letting Ginny continue for any length of time. Harry growled when Ginny stopped. She picked up his jeans and held them up, with an inquiring quirk of her eyebrow.
'Back pocket,' Harry said.
'Ruddy boy scout.' Ginny chuckled.
'Nah, more like "constant vigilance".'
Ginny drew out the foil-wrapped square, and straddling Harry, ripped it open with her teeth. When Harry reached out to help, Ginny slapped his hands away. 'Ginny, are you trying to kill me?'
'At least you'll die happy,' she cheekily replied.
Harry's eyes opened as the blood stopped pounding in his ears. Ginny had collapsed next to him, face-down on the rug. He propped himself up on an elbow, running a fingertip across the contours of Ginny's back, tracing the tan lines from her practice kit. 'It's a bloody good thing your brothers aren't good with Legilimency.'
'I had dinner with George and Ron last night. The whole time I was thinking about this weekend with you. Although, the hearth rug didn't quite play such a role, but I'm flexible.'
'And I'm starving. Got any plans for dinner?'
'Mmm-hmmm.' Harry bit her neck.
'I mean real food, you prat,' she giggled.
'Oh, you want real food? I'm so hurt, Ginny. I thought all this,' he indicated his body, 'would be more than enough for you.'
'Real food now. And dessert,' she grinned, 'later.'
'Oh, all right,' he pretended to grumble, 'go get cleaned up, and I'll feed you, if I must. You needn't dress up, either.'
'Git,' Ginny said mildly, but rose from the hearth rug and sashayed to the bathroom.
Harry watched the sway of her hips and murmured, 'Sweet Merlin, yes. Dessert later.' He sat up, wincing at the rug burns on his backside. Thankfully Episkey was a charm he had learned by his sixth year. It came in handy. Especially now. He pulled his clothes on and used Reparo to fix the missing buttons on his shirt and sprawled in the armchair to wait for Ginny.
He didn't have to wait long. Ginny came bounding out of the bathroom, her still-damp hair flying behind her. 'Muggle or Wizarding?' she asked.
'Muggle,' he grinned. One of the advantages of living in London was the array of food available to him. Harry had been out walking one night and was drawn to the scent of lime and basil coming from a place named, prosaically enough, Bangkok Palace. 'Ever had Thai food before?'
'Nope. Is it good?'
'Yep. Really good.'
Twenty minutes later, Harry and Ginny were perusing the menu at Bangkok Palace. Harry had managed to work his way up to being able to eat the green curry without smoke pouring from his ears, and was trying to persuade Ginny to go for the pad Thai on her first go. 'You can try some of my curry,' he promised.
'All right, fine,' she pouted.
When the food arrived, the chopsticks seemed to mock Ginny. No matter how hard she tried, the noodles refused to make it to her mouth. After a five minute struggle with the noodles and chopsticks, the waitress took pity on Ginny and placed a fork next to Ginny's plate, with a sympathetic glace. Harry had pulled a camera from his pocket, and in between laughs, managed to get a snapshot of Ginny attempting to eat. Picking up the fork, she pointed it at Harry, 'You,' she said, 'will pay for that!'
'Maybe, but you'll have to catch me, won't you?'
'Planning on sleeping tonight, are you?'
'Er...' Harry feigned great interest in his dinner.
'That was great! Could we go back?' Ginny's face lit up hopefully.
'Sure. I usually go there at least once a week.'
'Yes, that's me. The personification of one of the seven deadly sins,' Harry drawled. 'Walk? Or go back to the flat?'
There was a small park several blocks away. During the day it was filled with mothers and their children. At night, it was usually deserted. Harry and Ginny strolled to it, talking about their week. For the most part, Ginny had lived in Holyhead since last July. But over the last couple of months, many of her belongings had migrated to Harry's flat, and she now divided her time between Holyhead and London. Not that Harry minded. He had been most... persuasive.
At the park, Ginny ran to the swings, and began to propel herself into the cool night. Harry watched her whoop in childlike glee, as she launched herself off the swing, and hurtled into the darkness. She floated to the ground, landing in a heap at Harry's feet. 'Your turn!' she panted.
Harry was startled. His turn? To... play? Here he was nearly twenty years old and he had never just... played. Gingerly, he sat in the swing and began to swing back and forth, higher and higher.
'Jump, Harry!' cried Ginny. So he flew off the swing, and landed in the dew-wet grass. He lay still. 'Harry?' He didn't move. 'Harry...?' This time more tentatively. Ginny's hand shook his shoulder, and still Harry didn't move. 'Harry?!?' Ginny's voice began to show an edge of panic.
'Arrrrrgh!' Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, grabbing Ginny around the waist.
'Harry James Potter, I am going to kill you!' she shouted, pummeling his chest a few times.
'If you kill me, you can't have this,' he said, holding out his closed hand. She pried open his fingers. A small ring glinted in the middle of his palm. Ginny picked it up.
It was dark, and she pulled out her wand, and after looking around, whispered, 'Lumos.' She trained the narrow beam of light to her other hand. A round emerald lay nestled between two opals
'It was my grandmother's,' Harry explained. 'I found it with some other things last year.' Ginny stared at the ring. 'I know it's not big or flashy, and it's not a diamond...' he trailed off, biting his lip in apprehension. Do try not to muck this up, Potter, he told himself sternly. 'We could, you know... If you want to...' he finished lamely.
'Is that a proposal?' Ginny asked dryly.
'I... well... yes.' Harry's pulse was racing.
Ginny considered the ring resting in the palm of her hand, and turned her gaze to Harry's anxious face. 'Nox,' she whispered. The park was plunged once more into darkness. She stowed her wand back into a pocket, more to buy some time to let their eyes adjust to the change in light, than to stall in giving an answer. She slid the ring onto her finger.
'Is that a yes?' Harry asked breathlessly.
'That's a yes.'
'Oh. Well. All right, then.' Harry scrambled to his feet, and offered Ginny his hand. She took his hand and he pulled her to stand next to him. He led the way out of the park, saying nothing.
They walked quietly for a few blocks, sneaking glances at each other's beaming face.
Two more blocks went by.
Suddenly, Harry turned to Ginny, wrapped his arms around her waist, swung her through the air, set her down, and kissed her thoroughly. 'We're getting married,' he informed her with a crooked grin.
Looking around wildly, Harry spied a bench at a bus stop. He jumped to the seat, and dragged Ginny up to join him. 'I'm going to marry the most beautiful woman in the world,' he shouted to the street. A few passers-by applauded and cheered. Ginny blushed a deep rosy hue as Harry decided to reenact a photo she had seen in a Muggle Studies class. Something about a sailor and a nurse.
A flash and a brief cloud of purple smoke revealed a wizard photographer in the crowd of people gathered around the bench. Ginny sighed. 'Well, there goes any privacy we may have wanted.'
'Forget him. Between you and me, we can take him.' Ginny squinted at the photographer who gave her a cheeky grin, before sprinting off in the direction of the Prophet offices.
'Yup. You're stuck with me now.' Harry hopped off the bench, and swung Ginny down to the sidewalk. 'Let's go home.'