p

Midair

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter. We're not that creative, although we wish we did. Own Harry Potter, that is.

Note: Gosh, it's been too long. With school and finals and all the snow days we've had, it got a little hectic and we've haven't really updated in too long. I know that a lot of you out there have been waiting on my sister's (Padma Patil) story Surprises to update, but I have some news. Padma is traveling to India for two months, and I'm really sorry that you're gonna have to wait some more. Honestly, I'm waiting for her to update as well. She's kinda having writer's block. Wonderful. Anyways, here's a little snippet I came up with after I saw some awesome fanart of Harry and Ginny and decided to post a story about it. My fingers have been itching to write a story for way too long!

A/N: There's a poll up on our profile about who to ship Hermione with: Fred, Ron, Harry, Draco, or OC. Vote quickly, because I will close the poll on May 20, and will use the results to write a new story about Hermione and said ship. If you voted, PM me your pen name and I will mention you in the story.

Here we go!

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

He tried, he really did, but every time tried to stop, her bright red hair and soft brown eyes, with fierceness radiating down to the depths of them, and her determined, beautiful face would flash in his mind and he would find that he was staring at her once more.

Everything about her fascinated him. Her laugh sounded like chimes jingling away in the wind, and he felt like floating whenever he heard it. When playing Quidditch, her waist-length hair flew behind her like a cape of fire embers. Her eyes were the color of rich chocolate, but could instantly turn dark with fierceness or passion.

Not that he knew about the passion part.

Ginny Weasley was a force to be reckoned with, and it filled Harry with regret that he had realized that too late. He wasn't sure whether she reciprocated the feelings that he felt for her anymore.

After the war, Harry had decided to stay at the Burrow. He came back with a jumble of feelings chasing each other around in his stomach. Relief that the war was over, happiness at seeing his friends, regret and grief for the Fallen Fifty. But one of the strongest feelings that claimed dominance in his heart was hope. Hope for a new future, maybe with Ginny by his side. . .

But she had shown no sign of wanting to fix their relationship that had so abruptly ended in her room, on his birthday. They would joke around and play Quidditch together like normal friends, but the closest thing to touching that they had done was a high five after winning a mini Quidditch match against Ron and Charlie.

Harry sighed and returned to eating his breakfast, for the most he had done with it was poke at his toast and stick his elbow in the butter dish. Ron found that highly amusing.

Abandoning his toast, he stood up with the intention of changing into some Muggle clothes and wandering in the backyard. As he got up, however, he crashed into a small body and landed on the floor, his head banging the wall rather painfully along the way.

The body he had crashed into swore, and he realized it was a girl. It was Ginny. Harry scrambled upright and searched for his glasses, but in vain.

Ginny sat up—she must have been knocked to the floor too—picked something up off the floor, and put it on Harry's face.

Harry realized he could see clearly again, and he looked up to find Ginny in all her red-haired glory examining him with a look of concern.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't see you there! Are you alright? I hurt you pretty badly, didn't I?"

Harry gaped like a fish; finding his voice, he managed to croak out, "I'm alright."

His head gave a throb of pain, and he winced.

Ginny looked extremely guilty, and hauled him to his feet. It occurred to him how strong she was, despite her tiny frame. She helped him to the couch, then rubbed his head with her palm.

His pulse raced throughout his body, but it had nothing to do with his throbbing head.

"No, you're obviously not," she said, shaking her head. "I'm so clumsy, I didn't even see where I was going—"

"Ginny."

"—could have hurt you badly, I don't—"

"Gin."

"—know what I was thinking-"

"Hey." Harry took her hand from his head and held it tenderly in his own. It was warm and sent tingles through him. "I'm alright. You didn't do anything. I'm absolutely fine."

Ginny was quiet, then waved a hand. "You're right," she said. "I'm sure you're perfectly fine. Heck, you fell 50 feet from a broomstick once. This is nothing."

Harry laughed, and a silence settled between them. He stared into her brown eyes, unconsciously leaning forward as his hand came up to cup her face—

The moment was broken, however, as Crookshanks yowled from somewhere in the house, and Harry heard a pair of footsteps, presumably Hermione's, run to get him.

Ginny cleared her throat. Harry slumped forward in disappointment. He was so close, why did that wretched cat choose this time to howl?

"—was wondering if you wanted to come play?"

He realized that Ginny was saying something, and he snapped his head around, and, a little too abruptly, said, "What?"

She rolled her eyes playfully and repeated what she had said, "Ron, Charlie and I are going outside to play a match of Quidditch. I was wondering if you wanted to come play?"

She cocked her head at him, and he bashfully rubbed his head and muttered, "Yeah, sure. Of course." Ginny smiled and motioned for him to come out. As he did, he tripped over the coffee table, ran into the wall, and almost cracked the door. Ginny turned around and frowned.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm splendid."

"OK." She headed out the door, and Harry mentally slapped himself.

It was rather relieving, he thought, to be back on a broom again. Sometimes, Harry forgot how at ease he felt on a broom. Granted, it was Ron's old Shooting Star, but his Firebolt was lying in pieces somewhere in London, and it was the only broom left in the cupboard that didn't have a nasty mold growing on it.

Ginny came out with her broom, her auburn hair tied up in a ponytail. She gave a competitive grin to Harry.

"Ready, Potter?"

Harry grinned back at her. "Ready as I'll ever be, Weasley."

"Yeah, well, be ready for me to whoop your arse."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oi!" Ron yelled. "You two! Stop canoodling and start the game!"

Harry and Ginny both turned a bright shade of red. Ginny looked ready to stomp all over Ron and rolled her eyes instead. Harry shook his head and muttered, "Canoodling? That prat."

The balls were released, and the game began. Ron, Harry found out, was not a great Beater, and almost knocked himself off his broom in an effort to swing a Bludger towards Charlie. Harry was playing Chaser and Seeker, and he whooped as he managed to get a Quaffle through the goal. Ginny and Charlie, a combined team of extraordinary Quidditch talents, took a huge lead in the first few minutes of the game, with Harry and Ron barely catching up.

After the game had gone on for a full 15 minutes, the score 250-270, Harry spotted something flash out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, when he whipped his head around, he spotted the Snitch hovering above Ron's orange head. At the same time, Ginny spotted it too, and both Seekers shot upwards and reached, reached for the Snitch—

Harry's fist was about to close around the tiny ball, but a smaller hand knocked his out of the way. It was Ginny, and with a sparkle in her eye, she knocked the Snitch out of the way and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt.

She kissed him.

It was a soft one at first, but her hands shot up into his wind-tousled hair, and his own settled on her waist. She tasted like summer, like sweet honey and sunshine and whatnot.

He pulled her closer and he realizes that Ron and Charlie are watching with open mouths but he doesn't care, he is kissing Ginny Weasley, this wonderful girl that he can't get enough of because he's sure he loves her more than anyone.

Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and explored freely, it did wonderful things, while he let out a groan that is swallowed in their kiss. His heart might just explode right there, because all he saw behind his eyes were stars and explosions and Ginny. He felt her smile against him and he wanted more, he wanted all of her.

She pulled away breathless, her eyes shining, and her arms still around his neck, her hands still in his hair. She took a deep breath and pressed her lips to his once more.

"Wow."

In that one word, Harry knew that she loved as much as he loves her, that they have both been waiting for and wanting each other since who knows when.

Ginny smiled, a smile that lit up all her features, and her eyes stared into Harry's green ones.

He tenderly stroked her face and brushed a strand of hair away from it. "Yeah, wow. Where did that come from?"

She grabbed his hand and stroked it. "It's been coming for some time."

"Then why didn't you make a bloody move?"

"What do you mean why didn't I make a bloody move? It's you I've been waiting for all along!"

"Gin, I can face Voldemort and Death Eaters and who knows what but when it comes to you, I can't bloody think straight, my thoughts are all messed up and—mph."

He was cut off as Ginny pressed her mouth against his, her mouth working furiously against his. "Potter," she gasped in between kisses, "you . . .bloody . . .idiot!"

He pulled her closer, both of them breathing heavily, flushed faces and idiotic smiles on their faces. They stared at each other for a minute longer, before Harry noticed Ron behind them, and realized with a jolt that he and Charlie had been watching them the whole time.

Ginny turned around to look at Ron and Charlie.

"Can we continue, or do you two need a few minutes to continue your snogging session in the middle of our bloody Quidditch pitch?" asked Ron, while at the same time Charlie smirked and said, "Get a room, will you?"

All four of them burst out laughing, and with great reluctance, Harry and Ginny pulled apart.

"Oh, Harry?" Harry turned to face a smirking Ginny with a closed fist.

"What?"

She opened her hand to reveal a small golden ball fluttering in her hands. Harry glared at her hand for a few minutes, then looked up with a look of mock hurt on his face. He dramatically placed a hand over his heart and proclaimed, "Oh, dear, beautiful, maiden Ginevra! How could have used me like this? Am I only a tool of your pleasure? A mere toy?"

He grinned as Ginny rolled her eyes at him and flew back onto the pitch. He watched her hair flow behind her and could not seem to remember when he had loved Quidditch more.

And there you go! Not one of my greatest fics, but honestly I had written and erased this story at least 5 times before I gave up in frustration and refused to restart this fic once more. Honestly, this was such a great idea, but I don't feel like I portrayed in the best way! Still, I LOVE LOVE LOVE Harry/Ginny, and this was one of my feeble attempts at writing. Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated!

P.S. Don't forget to vote on my poll! It is on our profile, and it closes May 20th. May be extended if there aren't enough votes!

-Parvati Patil