What Happens in the Changing Room...

Just a little drabble for Harry's birthday. It's a scene from chapter 79 of Questions and Answers, written from Ginny's point of view.

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Ginny awoke in the pale predawn light and carefully slid from the bed, careful not to disturb Harry. She gingerly picked up her wand, holding her breath, lest it drop from her fingertips and clatter to the surface of the bedside table. Ginny stealthily picked up her dressing gown and a bundle she'd placed near the foot of the bed the night before, then padded to the door easing it open, and then closed it soundlessly. Once in the corridor, Ginny pulled her dressing gown over her shoulders and went downstairs to the office. She began to unpack the bundle, placing fresh pajamas for herself and Harry on her desk. She withdrew an obviously battered t-shirt and shook it out, grinning slightly. It was roughly of the same age as Al. Harry had bought it one afternoon shortly after Al was born, while he had taken James into Diagon Alley to give Ginny a bit of a break.

Leaving the office, Ginny went into the kitchen and prepared a light repast of toast and tea, carrying it on a tray back to the office. She charmed the teapot to stay warm and dropped an old knitted cozy over it. She checked the small clock on the corner of her desk and nodded. She had plenty of time. Harry usually woke well before the alarm went off and she had turned it off last night. She trusted that he could find her when he did get up.

Ginny shimmied from her nightdress, and after a silent glance at the ceiling, slipped off her knickers and tossed them into the corner of the room. Inhaling deeply, Ginny scrutinized her body. It had been quite a feat to conceal the amount of attention she'd paid to her personal grooming yesterday. Not that she did much beyond the basics, but on occasion - like now - she did a bit more. Certain activities were much more pleasurable, especially if Harry hadn't had a chance to shave. She dropped into Harry's chair behind his desk and retrieved her hairbrush from the bundle and began to brush her hair. It wasn't as long as it had been when they'd married nearly twenty years ago. Then, it had been long enough to brush the small of her back. How Harry had loved to make love with her, curtained in the auburn waves that draped over them both. She'd cut it before Al was born into a short bob, just below her chin. It was as much a statement as necessity. James wasn't yet two years old and she had admittedly grown weary of keeping it out of his chubby, sticky fingers. Once Lily was old enough to keep her hands out of Ginny's hair, she'd allowed it to grow out once more. Now, it was just below her shoulder blades. Long enough that she felt the need to loosely plait it at night, but not so long that it took ages to brush or comb her hair anymore.

Harry had picked up the habit of brushing her hair for her in the evenings before bed from time to time. He would sit on the edge of the armchair while she sat on the floor at his feet, leaning against his shins while he ran the brush through her hair. More often than not in those early days together, the brush ended up abandoned on the bureau while Harry tugged impatiently at the knot in the sash of her dressing gown. Ginny smiled to herself as she ran the brush through her hair.

She shook her hair out and laid the brush down in the center of the desk, tugging a bit at the hem of the t-shirt as she moved to sit on the edge of the desk. The collar and hems were fraying. The original blazing scarlet of the t-shirt itself was now faded into a sort of brick red. The image of a roaring lion had once been bright gold and had dimmed to a dull yellow. It was one of Harry's favorites.

Ginny rearranged herself on the desk, glancing at the clock once more. If she knew Harry, he would be awake soon and expecting to find her in their bed. He didn't like to have a fuss made over his birthday, other than a small cake at dinner - preferably chocolate - and would rather the attention go to the children. Al's birthday in June, Lily's only a month later, then James' in September. Tonight would be the rare exception. Ron and Hermione had insisted on throwing a party for Harry, arguing that turning forty was a momentous event. They had managed to persuade him on the condition that they would take care of all the arrangements, which Ginny was certain they were prepared to do in the first place, so quickly did they offer. The had given in to Harry's demand that only family be invited, but given the Weasleys' definition of "family", their back garden was to play host to quite a large gathering.

Ginny could hear the door of their bedroom creak softly, though it sounded quite loud in the still morning. Harry's footfalls thudded dully on the staircase, and Ginny's head turned to the partially open office door in anticipation.

'Gin?' Harry called softly.

'Harry, will you come in here a moment?' Ginny's throaty voice flowed through the gap.

Harry peered around the edge of the door, pushing it open a bit wider. His mouth fell open, and his jaw worked for a moment as he struggled to breathe. 'Oh...'

'Happy fortieth,' she murmured.

'Yeah... thanks...' Harry's breath caught in his throat. She smiled at him, her head tilted to one side. 'Nice shirt,' he said lamely, sidling into the room, closing the door behind him, leaning against it.

'I couldn't think what to get you,' Ginny continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder. On Harry's twentieth birthday, mere weeks before their wedding, he had shyly confessed one of his fantasies to her. It had involved a Burrow blessedly free of other occupants, and therefore no Ron to barge in and end their kiss. Harry had flushed brightly as he described - in detail - what he would have liked to do with her then. This was as close as Ginny could get.

Harry took a few stumbling steps into the room. 'You didn't have to get me anything,' he choked. His right hand moved to the straining front of his boxers, in a vain attempt to adjust what was rapidly becoming an annoyingly constricting piece of clothing.

'I didn't know what would be useful. I mean, what does one get a man who doesn't want for material things? Who keeps clothing for ages,' Ginny added ruefully, fingering the frayed collar of the t-shirt. 'Whose only indulgence is a very fast, and very good broom, but that's been taken care of in the last year.' She slid off the desk and closed the gap between the two of them, tugging the t-shirt over her head, letting it fall carelessly behind her.

Harry's eyes went perfectly round. 'But the children...' he rasped.

'Charmed the office,' Ginny assured him. 'We could play Quidditch in here, and they'd never hear a sound.'

'Brilliant.' Harry's own t-shirt joined the one Ginny had been wearing, followed quickly by the soft flannel boxers. His lips met Ginny's, then trailed down the side of her neck, making her shiver. She loved the feel of his stubble against the tender skin behind her ear, and arched into it like a cat.

Harry went to his knees, bringing Ginny with him, and Ginny laid a hand in the center of his chest, gently pushing him back until he lay on the floor, an expectant smile hovering over his lips. Ginny placed one knee, then the other on either side of Harry's hips, straddling him. He made a sudden move, as if to surge into her, but she just shook her head. 'Let me.' She chuckled softly to see his throat bob as he swallowed. Ginny wound her fingers through his and leaned forward until her mouth danced over his. Her hair slowly fell around their faces, and Harry briefly turned his head to inhale its familiar scent. 'Happy birthday,' she breathed, just before lowering her head and tracing the line between his lips with her tongue. Harry's lips parted and Ginny deepened the kiss, stroking his tongue with her own. Harry moaned into her mouth and slid a hand into Ginny's hair. He pulled her head back and nibbled the skin just under her jaw, making a meandering path to the pulse at the base of her throat. His other hand slipped between them and Harry eased a finger inside her, resting his thumb right... there... Ginny shuddered as his fingers began to move slowly. He would tease her, bringing her to the brink, then stop. It was maddening, but when he finally stroked her into coming, it was all the more intense for it. Ginny gasped and allowed Harry to tug her body down to his. 'It's your birthday,' she panted. 'I'm supposed to give you pleasure.'

Harry nuzzled Ginny's cheek. 'Then you have no idea what it's like to watch you.' His arms slid around her waist and she reveled in the warmth of his skin. One of Harry's hands drifted up to tuck a lock of hair behind Ginny's ear. 'Just having you with me right now, that's the best birthday present I could have wished for.'

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A/N: I really wanted to post this on Wednesday (and the idea to do this just hit me Wednesday afternoon) in honor of Harry's birthday, but it got really late and I fell asleep (it was almost midnight).

So Happy Belated Birthday, Harry. ;)