two years ago i was wishing wonderful blvnk a happy birthday by publishing a new chapter of what was already a story entirely inspired by her breathtaking art.
it only made sense that i returned to create a new sequel on her 26th :)

happy birthday, lovely! take your time and do things in your own way, life isn't rushing anywhere!

She didn't feel like getting out of bed so soon, Harry noticed, pleased. He didn't either.

It had been nearly four long months without her, almost a hundred and twenty days without feeling her skin warm against his, without touching his lips to hers, without tasting her. Yes, it had been too long and they both agreed making up for it was top priority.

They'd been writing back and forth all throughout Ginny's final year at Hogwarts, hearts beating fast and pulse strumming up at any slight flutter of owlish wings. Thus, after the disastrous encounter from Easter, they sensibly concluded and agreed upon during their assiduous letter exchange, that it was time Harry left the safety of the Burrow for some more private and definitely less crowded (read: brotherless) quarters. And Ginny'd swiftly join him once out of Hogwarts.

The plan was carefully thought and designed to work out swimmingly, had it not been for Mrs Weasley (who, naturally, had a different idea of what was appropriate for her freshly graduate daughter). Nevertheless, the shouting and harrumphing did little to stop Ginny from storming out of the Burrow as soon as she'd clobbered her luggage through the door of her room and announced that there was no need for the family to wait for her as she would be spending the weekend with Harry.

The little show left Harry more than a bit befuddled and standing stupidly in the middle of the Burrow's living room, feeling the full intensity of the combined stares of Ron, George, and Bill. Mr Weasley though, he was peacefully perusing the day's copy of the Prophet, horn-rimmed spectacles perched on the tip of his nose and small ahas escaping his lips once every few minutes as if the information he was absorbing was nothing short of spectacular.

Therefore Ginny found it sensible to let out all her family related pent up frustration once she was finally alone with Harry in his newly rented one bedroom apartment near the Leaky Cauldron; which mostly resulted in a heated and rough session on Harry's shabby old couch, coffee table and nearest wall - not that Harry was complaining in any way. Far from that actually (and shoving aside the feeling of guilt Ron's scornful stare had inflicted upon him), he made a point to give her his best moves and whatever stamina a soon to be twenty year old could summon. Twice.

It was precisely how it was possible that he found himself blissfully in bed on an early July morning, enjoying the pure quiet of dawn, Ginny lounged half naked over him, arms pulling him snug and close to her. The timid daylight caught in her hair, setting a gentle glow about it and illuminating the white of her skin, the freckles burned into it resembling little colour spots flicked haphazardly by a masterful painter on a blank canvas. It was peaceful.

He'd grown a beard since they'd last seen each other, got a haircut and an increased dose of confidence in bed. Ginny was delighted to notice all three aspects, each leaving her more thirsty for him than the other.

She'd bitten her lips when the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross and she jumped off the lolling wagon and into his arms, tracing her fingers through his beard and then through his freshly trimmed locks. Cut, but still curling wildly at the back of his head, Ginny was pleased to notice.

And after they closed the door on the world and were finally, beautifully alone, Ginny was even more pleasantly surprised to register that the shy boy from the past summer who's elbow kept bumping her or getting tangled in her hair when they made love was no longer there. Instead, she found a young man whose fingers did not tremble in the slightest when he undressed her, who didn't blush even for a beat when his mouth traveled south down her body to remind her of another summer's day - but this time without any hesitation or timidity. She found a young man who was no longer afraid of what he wanted when it came to her and it made her excited, aroused, insatiable.

Harry shivered when his mental recount of the previous night was interrupted by Ginny's lips sweeping over his chest, kissing him gently, blearily up his collarbone, his neck. He smiled, traced his fingers through her hair and teased her with two fingers running down the length of her arm. It always gave her goosebumps when he did so and he could feel her breath catch if only for a heartbeat.

"Good morning," Harry smirked against her forehead, kissed her there.

"Hello to you too," she smiled and pressed her bare chest harder into him, pressed her cheek into his palm.

Feeling her breasts brush against his chest made Harry let out a brisk gasp, made his senses spike and fire up again. His eyes followed Ginny, down her bare, freckled back and lightly groaned when he saw the sheets sliding down her middle to her legs to reveal she'd been sleeping in a pair of his own pants.

He found that very, very sexy.

"Like what you see?" Ginny looked up at him and winked, sending a new tingling wave through Harry's body.

He grinned, his hand dipping lower down her back and into her waistband, hooking one finger through it and pulling slightly.

"Where did you find these?"

"A girl never tells."

Harry laughed at this display of mischief and wit and had a mind to tickle her until she told him exactly what she'd been up to (an interrogation tactic probably not approved by the Ministry, but who gave a damn) when she looked up at him intensely, opened her mouth and licked her lips.

"Don't move," Ginny instructed and, with a hand pressed to Harry's chest, she lifted up on her knees and pushed her long, red hair back to one side.

Harry forgot what he'd planned on doing anyway. He stretched his hand and grasped for his glasses, mindlessly thrown away somewhere in the general vicinity of the bed amidst the heat of the previous night. At least he was certain he didn't plan on missing the full and complete details of such a view.

Taking note of what he was doing, Ginny grinned and playfully tutted him, "You won't be needing these, Mr Potter."

His eyebrows raised into a questioning look, but Ginny simply batted her eyelashes at him and went about her business of slowly removing the pair of pants she'd been wearing, fully aware his eyes were glued to her.

"What's going on in that devious mind of yours?" Harry smirked and tried to catch her in his arms; instead, Ginny pushed his hands away and, before he could protest, straddled him.

"Lay on your back. I've been thinking about something since last summer," she instructed, pushing him back into the mattress with one soft palm.

Harry's breath hitched. He licked his lips as his black messy head touched the white cotton sheets.

"That long?"

"Aha. So, you see, I'm pretty anxious to start."

Her voice was loaded with mischief and Harry groaned hard. His fists gripped the sheets beneath him as he felt Ginny inching closer to him, her thighs brushing past his arms, his shoulders to finally rest on either side of his face and be tickled by the rugged hairs of his beard.

"Ready?" She asked, her eyes intently on his.

Harry could only nod.

Parting her legs wider, she grasped a handful of his hair and leaned slowly on his face. He raised his palms to her lower back and held her there.

Ginny moaned when Harry opened his mouth beneath her and let out a warm breath. She could feel her stomach churn and an ever-growing fire climbing up from her center to her chest.

Her head shot back once his tongue tasted her, sliding over the inside of her inner walls until it reached a little bundle of nerves and pressed into it.

"Harry, please," she moaned louder, fist gripping harder into his hair.

Harry understood precisely what she was asking him. During Ginny's Easter break, they'd taken their time to learn, to truly grasp what each other liked, needed, and wanted. Snuggled together under a blanket on Ginny's bed, they thought it was the perfect time to repeat everything they'd been doing since the previous summer, but slower and following each other's instructions. To them, it was their time to discuss what felt good and teach each other how to make the experience even better for both of them.

Unfortunately, and through some bizzare chain of events, none of them remembered to properly lock the door - which, as one can imagine, led to a rather embarrassing situation involving Ron standing at the entrance, cheeks and ears flaming red, looking as though he'd been slapped over the face, Ginny cursing like a sailor and Harry regretting that Voldemort didn't do a better job at trying to murder him.

Even if their actual actions were concealed from Ron's prying eyes by the blanket, neither Harry nor Ginny believed he didn't understand or at least guessed that they weren't merely holding hands. In all honesty, Ron had opened the door as Ginny was begging Harry not to stop and to "keep going exactly like that."

Ginny was right, Harry had thought then, Ron did have a knack for interrupting people at the worst possible time.

But it was that stolen afternoon when he learned how Ginny liked to be touched, her ragged breath and "Harry, please" reverberating through his brain endlessly over the past months, torturing his mind every single day of the one hundred and twenty that lay ahead of them back then.

"Please," Ginny murmured again, arching her back and pressing deeper into his mouth.

Harry felt himself pulsing, already too hard, too aroused. He tightened his grip around her lower back and pushed her further down into him, his tongue moving round in circles inside her.

He didn't stop: not when she spread her legs wider still, not when his own hand slid inside his boxers to take the edge off if only for a small moment, not when he dug so deep inside, tongue bouncing around her clit in heavier and heavier rotations that she screamed and pushed lower into his face. Harry didn't stop. He wanted her to feel bloody good.

Ginny thrust her pelvis onto him fastly, urgently, hand still gripping his hair for balance. Her thighs rubbed against his cheeks with each thrust, her long hair tickled his chest as she arched her back. He could feel she was close.

He removed the hand he kept on himself and moved it to cup under her arse. With both hands, Harry grabbed her and held her perfectly still over his face. Let me finish this, don't move, was what he wanted to say. She understood.

Ginny pushed into his tongue as it started moving faster, licking and drinking the heath inside her. It took her only a couple more strokes before she felt she could let go.

"Harry," Ginny cried his name and froze on top of him as she felt countless waves of pleasure wash over her body, obliviate her mind.

Harry dashed his tongue over her twice more before he let her sink next to him, heaving and panting, one arm over her eyes.

"Alright, Gin?" He asked, kissing her elbow, her arm, her wrist.

"Oh, yeah, I'm only taking a moment to congratulate myself for having this idea," she grinned, still panting, her eyes sparkling with love and mischief.

"Brilliant idea indeed," Harry chuckled, pressing his lips to her temple, "I'd like to shake your hand for it."

"Ha, I bet you would. But how about instead of shaking hands we took care of you too, eh?"

Harry took note of the naughty smile tugging at her lips and once again seemed to forget whatever he had planned on doing. He briefly decided that he'd just have to get accustomed to this superpower of hers that erased his mind and turned him into a sorry, mumbling puddle of a man.

Giggling, Ginny hooked her hands into his boxers and pulled down.

"Off with those, come on."

Turning her back to him, she winked, inviting.

"I figured as long as we're trying new things," she said sweetly.

It was all the invitation he needed. Harry quickly jiggled the boxers off his ankles and onto the floor. Grinning excitedly, he crawled his way to Ginny and her beautiful, freckled back.

On his knees, Harry ran a hand up and down her back, over her spine and stopping to better feel her round, tight bum.

He gave himself a stroke and guided the tip forward, parting her. The moisture and heat at her entrance made him feel dizzy for a moment, a feeling akin to a blow to the back of his head.

Harry closed his eyes to gather himself; she drove him way beyond crazy and far away from any pretence of sanity.

"Tell me if I cock this up, yeah?" Harry whispered before he gently thrust and slid further inside her. He couldn't help feeling a little bit anxious whenever they ventured on new territory.

"Just go hard and it'll be brilliant."

"Hard? You sure?"

"Yeah. And hold on to me tight."

"Really?"

"And maybe pull my hair a little?"

"Oh, Gin, you're not even giving me the chance to start, I'm already -"

"Here, let me."

"Fuck."

Soon enough, Harry felt himself let go, the violent tide so powerful it made him buckle over her, his hands squeezing her side, his teeth grazing the smooth skin of her back, her name on his lips like a secret prayer.

His heart beat so fast, his mind spinned and collided into millions of stars. Before his thoughts went blank, Harry found himself thinking that everything was too good, too happy to be true.

And what was even more incredible, the kind of good luck Harry wasn't yet used to, was that they had a lifetime ahead to start again, to try new things, and practice. They were no longer rushing.

Finally, they had time.

boy, isn't revisiting past stories a journey? my past tenses kept turning into present when i wasn't looking.
hope i did Homerun Harry and Ginny at least some justice. and now i'll leave them to enjoy their life together, they deserve it :)

please visit my tumblr for the link to the drawing that inspired this!