Title: Knowledge
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: R for language and violence
Summary: Harry comes home.
Now AU. It was written in the wait for DH.
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine. They are JKs!
I know a lot of things.
I know how to cook food and play Quidditch.
I know how to charm and transfigure things, brew potions and a fair bit of knowledge about stupid things like stars and the history of the magical world. Not to mention the jinxes and hexes I’ve picked up.
I know just about every statistic for the Chudley Cannons and practically every tactical plan for the game… and them some.
I know Ron dreams about Hermione naked and probably fell in love with her around 2nd year. I also happened to be privy to information that she feels the same way. I know too, that they have been closer and closer to snogging these past couple hours since I fulfilled my end of the vanquishing the big-evil-wizard plan.
I know how to carry a tune…
I know how to apparate and do all sorts of impressive and rare magic with just the flick of my hand (wandless too!).
I even know how to destroy pieces of very scary and terribly complicated soul.
It’s impressive I know but it all doesn’t really matter.
Because I don’t know a wankin’ thing about girls.
That’s a lie. I’m not completely daft.
I just don’t know about Ginny Weasley.
Because we dated… and we snogged and we talked a lot about feelings and I had the best time of my life with her;
Then I left her for about a year for what she calls “stupid-noble-idiotic-adorable-and-completely-daft” reasons. And I know girls probably aren’t going to be thrilled to see their ex-boyfriends pop-up in their front yard in the middle of the night to tell them that they have fulfilled their dangerous and noble quest and now are ready to resume the course of their relationship… right?
But that really didn’t stop me. Now that I’m here though… I’m giving it a bit of thought.
Mostly because I really like my bits and would like to have some children, pass on the Potter name. And now that I’m staring up at the home of said girl, I’m quiet afraid for those parts of me that are necessary in this act of reproduction.
Did I mention that my thoughts have recently taken a very wordy and awkward boy tone?
Give me a break, I’ve had a really ruff couple of days. I haven’t had a proper meal since it was snowing outside and not a decent nights sleep since I was eleven. Being a hero isn’t always easy and it’s just going to get worse when the whole wizarding world wakes up and realizes “The Dark Lord” is gone. The press and the people and the hiding that I will have to be doing. Let’s just say I’m really not excited about that particular part of saving the world.
But I digress.
Ginny.
I told Ron and Hermione I would wait to go to the Burrow until they’d had a shower and some food. But I couldn’t wait… because Ginny Weasley has this pull; has had this pull on me since the 5th year and I just can’t keep away from her any longer. Which explains my filthy and tattered clothing, my awful smell and the large amount of dirt and dried blood that’s making it’s appearance in my fashion style.
But she’d… Ginny would want to know that I’m alive right?
At least that’s what I keep telling myself as I spell past the wards of the Burrow (told you I had skills) . I even manage to by-pass the squeaky step and not break anything or wake anyone up and open Ginny’s door without any creaking at ALL. And I’m in the midst of congratulating myself, albeit silently, when;
“Stupify!”
Did I mention that my reflexes are a little slow due to the overwhelming pain my body is in FROM FIGHTING THE EVILIEST THING TO HAVE EVER BEEN BORN?
Fuck.
Is it sad, that if my body wasn’t completely immobile right now I would have a huge stiffy because Ginny Weasley looks so incredibly sexy right now, standing over me all ready for battle? Too bad I’m passing out.
This is the best damn ‘ennervate’ ever. There is no Hermione standing over me with wild and terrified eyes, prodding at my body with her wand nor is there any sign of Ron and his typical “What the bloody fuck did you do –Insert crazy noble thing here- for?!”
Nope.
Just glorious Ginny with her head buried into my shoulder and her hands gripping my neck and her knees against my sides, not to mention the pressure of her glorious breasts against my chest.
Too bad I can’t breathe. Oh but this is such a sweet death. But just as I’m getting my control over my vocal capabilities the door flies open and Ginny sits up, wand raised.
“What-“
“In Godric-“
But before the twins can even finish, Ginny is speaking in hushed and very scary serious tones.
“You will listen very carefully to me, you unnatural pieces of flesh. You will turn around and march yourself to Mum and Dad’s room and alert them that Harry is home for good. Ron and Hermione-“
She pauses here and looks down with so much fear that I scramble for purchase on her hips with my hands and nod vigorously, trying to communicate to her that yes, they are still alive. She sags a little but immediately looks back up to where Fred and George are standing.
“-will be here soon, and they should alert the Order to gather here immediately. Mum is to make Sheppard’s Pie, because it’s Harry’s favorite and UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, I REPEAT, NONE; are Harry and I to be disturbed. We will come down when I am ready to share him. Is that clear?”
A tiny blurb of argument was sneaking out…
“OR I will tell Mum about Christmas my first year and that time-“
They must have mumbled their agreement because Ginny’s relaxing, and I really wish I could have focused on what they were saying but I’ve been starved of the sight in front of me for so long, I can’t give up any amount of attention to anything but the girl sitting on top of me. But Ginny has just cast some charms on the door and is looking at me.
I am in so much trouble.
There have been only two times that I have seen this look that I’m being subject to right now… When Ron and I caught her with Dean and she almost torn Ron into shreds with her bare hands; When I left and she told me that I better come home alive or she will immediately kindle a romance with Malfoy or even worse, Romilda Vane.
An ‘Oh shit’ would be entirely appropriate right now.
“What the bloody fuck are you doing here?” It hurts when she pokes her wand into my ribs but at least she hasn’t moved and don’t think that I didn’t notice that the other hand that isn’t holding me hostage is tracing circles on my arm. It’s the only reason I’m not fleeing.
“Well… er… I thought- I thought that maybe, you’d like to know… I was, erm- alive.” Could I have mucked that up more? Probably not, unless my name was Ron. So I’ll just try a tentative grin.
Nope. All I got was a raised eyebrow.
“You’re very lucky I didn’t kill you just now.” Her voice is stern but her eyes are roaming my face and I can see the concern ebbing it’s way it to the forefront of her mind. And I remember the way I must look… I may be pathetic, but I am not stupid and I know an opportunity when I see one.
“Can we move off the floor, I’m a bit sore?” I almost feel guilty until her eyes widen and she scrambles off of me to pull me gentle up and practically pushes me into her bed.
Oh it is a glorious feeling. In bed. In Ginny’s bed. In Ginny’s bed with Ginny. Mother of Merlin.
“Sorry.” She’s looking sheepish as she sits down and I summon all my courage to reach out and grasp her hand. Her eyes go wide again but she doesn’t pull away. Ginny’s tiny hand curls around mine, and it’s soft and callused and so very warm.
I’m trying really hard to resist pulling her down next to me.
Really.
Really.
Really hard.
Oh fuck it.
Ginny lands with a soft ‘umpf’ next to me and if I wasn’t terrified she was going to kill me, I would say that it was the sexiest sound to have entered my ear canal. Instead, I brace for sudden death.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, Ginny twists to face me and I turn the rest of the way onto my side and I’m reminded of exactly why I was born…
To love her.
“You’re home.” Her face is bright and her smile is warm and her tears are cleansing. Her hand comes up to rest upon my cheek and I slid my hand to rest in the gap between her shorts and her t-shirt.
Wait, correction; my shirt.
Holy Jehoshaphat.
She’s knicked and has been sleeping in my Captains shirt from Quidditch… without a bra.
Obviously a good stunning does nothing to a 17 year old boys body because low and behold, the beast has begun to purr rather loudly in my chest and has caused my trousers (can you ever call them that with this many holes in them?) to tent.
Killing Voldemort has not, we can safely say, discouraged my desire to shag Ginny Weasley… in the slightest.
But her clearing of throat brings me away from her gloriously free breasts, clad in my t-shirt and up to her smirking face.
“Already trying to get into my kit then?” And I missed that mischievous smile so much that I giggle. So magnificently un-manly… but I don’t care.
“I’m just glad it’s still working properly.” I reply and grin at her. Her mouth opens and laughter pours out, and it’s glorious. It wraps around my cold and internally bleeding body and breathes a breath of new life. I can’t help but just stare in awe, at the way her head tilts just so and her neck is exposed; one of the most beautiful columns of skin ever put into existence or how her eyes crinkle and her nose bunches and her mouth turns up in the most amazing way.
So amazing that I can’t help but kiss her.
And it’s awkward kissing a smiling person, because you’re kissing their teeth and they’re lips are trying to find a way to your lips but I didn’t care. I didn’t care because even her teeth tasted sweet and unworthy of my company.
When I pull away enough to look at her, she’s grinning.
“Some nerve you’ve got, Potter.”
But it’s alright because this nerve is exactly how I got to defeat Tom and the exact reason I’m moments from being shagged.
Sometimes, it really is good to be me.
