New Year's Kisses

Harry stared at the woman in front of him, enthralled by her beauty. Captivated by her laugh. Helpless against her smile. Lust boiled through his blood, and all he wanted to do was throw her down and make sweet love to her until he couldn't move. To tell her over and over again how beautiful she was. To be able to run his fingers through that gorgeous, silky hair. To be hers forever.

But she was his best friend. You don't just suddenly attack your best friend like that. It takes time and patience. Just look at how long it took Ron and Hermione. Took him years just to tell him that he liked her.

"Harry?" a voice broke into Harry's mind, and he blinked at Ginny, arching an eyebrow in question. "Are you alright? You keep staring at me all funny." Harry nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Yeah... Sorry. It's just...you look really nice tonight," he spewed out very fast, turning a lovely shade of red as Ginny smiled.

"Thanks, Harry. I really needed that. I was beginning to think I must look like a hag or something. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had a date?"

"A few weeks?" Harry guessed, drawing another smile upon Ginny's lips. A smile that made his insides quiver and his outsides...well, they quivered too.

"You're sweet. But no. It's been three months. Am I disgusting, Harry? Do I turn men gay? Is there something I do that screams 'lesbian'?"

"God, no, Ginny. You're gorgeous. Everyone else must be blind," Harry insisted. Ginny sighed softly, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Then why don't I have someone? It's New Year's Eve! It'll be next year in a matter of seconds, and I don't have anyone to kiss.

Harry froze. Now was the perfect time. Right now. The countdown was starting. And on one...he could kiss her!

10...

Would that even work? Or would she push him away, spitting and gagging?

9...

It would work. It had to, damn it! The whole rest of his life counted on this one moment, and it was going to bloody work. Or else there would be hell to pay. Somewhere.

8...

Harry turned to look at Ginny and promptly froze again. Oh, shit, she was beautiful. She'd never go for him.

7...

What?! Pull yourself together, Potter. Fucking kiss her at midnight, Nancy-boy. You won't know until you try, now will you?

6...

"Ginny?" Harry started, mouth drying up as she turned to peer at him. ...Ohshitohshit.

5...

"Yes, Harry? What is it?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "You're all pale..."

4...

Harry flushed.

"Now you're all red! Do you have a fever?" she asked, pressing a cool hand across his forehead.

3...

Harry shivered at her touch and gently pushed her hand away. "No, I'm fine, I just..."

2...

Ginny watched him expectantly as she waiting for an answer. He stared back, swallowing hard and opening his mouth. But no words came out.

1...

"...Oh bloody hell," Harry finally blurted out, crushing his lips against Ginny's in a kiss that neither would soon forget.

Happy New Year!

Auld Lang Syne came pouring over the television, but Harry was too involved with getting to know Ginny's mouth to notice.

The first thing he found was that she tasted good. Vaguely like the chocolate mousse they had shared combined with a unique taste all her own. He moved his lips experimentally and found that she tasted even better when he did that. So he kept doing it.

The second thing he found was when he did that, Ginny made the most sexual, beautiful noises in the back of her throat, like she was purring. Which was just more reason for Harry not to stop.

The third thing he found was when he dragged his lips from her mouth and trailed them down her neck instead, she gave the most arousing moan that made Harry buck involuntarily against her. And when he suckled on the hollow of her throat, she arched against him, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

"Oh God, Harry," she choked out, pulling at his shirt as he leaned her back, bringing his lips back to her own. She returned his kisses with feverish ones of her own, letting out that arousing moan and purring noises the whole while.

The last thing Harry found was after they'd had rough, passionate sex, and after they'd slowly, tenderly made love, she fit perfectly in his arms. And she stayed there the rest of the night. Or morning, if one wanted to be technical.

"Happy New Year, Harry."

"Happy New Year, Gin."