Chapter Six:

Like euphoria after winning a Quidditch match, feelings and thoughts both joyous and fearful consumed Ginny as she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck tighter, pulling him closer. Lips fought against lips for control, and while months- what felt like an eternity- ago this act would have been somewhat clumsy and shy, all that was left now was surety and a feeling that only resembled that of total and complete rightness.

This was not what she had planned.

Not in the least.

All Ginny had wanted was a hug. Honestly. Selfishly, and rather stupidly she had sought him out for some much needed physical contact that the two of them had desperately and silently been wanting. It was convenient for her to be in the kitchen when he appeared, but not planned, and it worked out all the same. It hurt like nothing she had ever felt to see him standing there earlier that night with his broom over his shoulders looking better than ever.

Harry had sparked lust and attraction within her once again, and while those feelings of adoration and dare she say love could be pushed away, the lovely feelings that were swarming deep within her belly could not be. Attraction was hard to fight especially when two people like her and Harry had an excess amount of it.

Older, skillful hands wrapped around her waist bringing her forward as her body pushed against his in all the right places. Harry's fingers dug into her back, the pressure screaming with pleasure mixed with an amount of tolerable pain. Her own fingers- with nails chewed to the point of stubs- twirled the sleek black hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers running over that spot she knew from experience he loved. Ginny smiled against his lips as she felt a lovely shiver run up his spine.

Almost as soon as the smile landed on her lips in faded immediately as the pressure of Harry's fingers went away and instead his hands were used to push her away.

Ginny stumbled backwards, breathing haggard as she stared, wide eyed, at the boy in front of her with ravenous green eyes.

"We can't," was all he said, running his hands over his eyes as she brought her fingers up to her lips. Feeling the place where just seconds ago his had been.

Was it possible to miss someone to the point where you ached for them even though they were standing right in front of you? Ginny felt the loss of his arms around her and it hit her like a tidal wave and she knew she would make a deal with the devil to feel them again.

Harry simply meant that much to her.

Being this close to him and not simply being with him was killing her.

"Why not?" was her only reply, the edge in her tone drowned out by the hitch in her voice as she desperately tried to catch her breath.

"You know why not."

"Harry," she began, but the argument was useless. She knew, he knew, it was a pointless argument and Ginny knew he could not be persuaded to see things from her view. If only she could kiss him again…

She was moving forward with one, large step before she realized it.

"Ginny, don't." Harry's voice sounded strangled and full of emotion.

She stopped, mid step and sighed heavily. "Harry…" his name was another sigh, a whisper and she had trouble deciding whether or not attacking him would be the right move.

Piercing green eyes met her own and stared for what seemed like several, agonizing days as breathing returned to normal and heart rates slowed considerably. It was a mistake, kissing him before, but she had not been able to help herself. He had just been there, and the way he had looked… She just had to.

Only now she wished she hadn't. Now she wished more than everything it had never happened because here they were after taking one step forward only to end up five steps back. In the same place as before only it was drastically different. She was left wanting more and painfully aware of what she was missing.

Not just the terrific snogging- although she was not ashamed to admit it was nothing less than perfection- but closeness. That feeling of completion. Rightness. That utterly indescribable feeling she has only ever felt with the person standing right there in front of her.

Harry was looking at her with a look she had never seen before and as her mind was practically yelling at her to look away she couldn't. Ginny was drawn to him, her eyes on his with no intention of looking away. Something was pulling at her in all different directions but mostly towards him.

And then, as if Merlin himself had smiled down upon her, Harry took one huge step towards her.

And kissed her. Again.

Slowly and leisurely with every bit of passion she knew he had in him. His hands were in her hair, tangling it considerably but she did not care. Could not focus on anything other than his lips on her own to care. Her mind was being pulled back into happier times, elation flowing through her veins like a drug. Her hands were every where at once, under the thin t- shirt he wore, at the nape of neck playing with that strand of hair her fingers always strayed to.

Ginny kissed Harry with everything she had in her, and could almost feel herself breathing a silent sigh of relief when he did the same. When he kissed her like he had all the months ago when they were considerably younger, and more innocent. When feelings were new and fresh and their future was not looming above them like a dark cloud that threatened to spill any minute. Ginny missed those days and somewhere deep inside of her she knew no matter what she would never get them back.

It did not matter though. Harry managed to kiss those thoughts away and with the gentle touch of his fingers over her feverishly hot skin, they disappeared one by one.

Harry started to pull away, to slow his kisses, but Ginny would not let him.

She simply did not want to let go.

Her arms held him closer. Her lips did not want to leave his. With every contact the eventual parting they would have to endure once again loomed closer, and with every contact she dreaded the next kiss for her own fear warned her it would be the last. She felt melancholy and overly dramatic, but could not find it in herself to care.

"Ginny," her name whispered from his lips like a plea. A prayer. Maybe even both.

She pressed her eyes closed tighter, held him closer. "I know."

A sigh, heavy and sedated and finally they both pulled away from each other. Ginny took a step back and rubbed her fingers over her tired eyes, ignoring the sudden stinging she felt in them. She wanted to plead with him. To scream and yell about how it was not fair. None of it. About how much she missed him and how missing him as much as she had been was beginning to drive her insane.

Yet she did nothing. Stood back and breathed a deep, meaningful breath that felt like ice as it passed her lips. She was the farthest thing from weak, and deep down she knew that Harry did not need one of her girly tantrums that would probably only made him feel worse than he already did. The situation was tragic enough on its own, and Ginny had never been and would never be the type of girl to make it even more so.

"There is a million things I could be rowing with you about right now," a gentle smile tugged at her lips when she saw his look of surprise. "I mean, honestly, kissing me like that. In my parents kitchen no less."

"Sorry 'bout that," Harry offered his attempt at a smile and it turned out to be half assed at best.

"No you're not."

"You're right," he grinned, the tiniest hint of laughter reaching those eyes she loved so much. "I'm really not."

"I know why you have to do this," Ginny began cautiously after a long pause. That brief, careless moment of teasing and banter was over just like she had imagined it would be. It was gone and the seriousness took them over once gain. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."

"I didn't chose this, Ginny," Harry said, his voice on the verge of irritation. With her, the situation, she could not tell.

"You don't think I know that?" she appeased, her voice just above a whisper. "I do."

He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then repeated the process again. "I don't want to leave you," was what finally came out, his voice quiet and resigned. "Any of this."

She smiled sadly. "I know that too."

A stumble, a crash off in the distance and Harry and Ginny jumped apart even though they were already far enough apart not to raise any questions. Like some old cliché that would only happen to them, Ron came stumbling in, looking rumpled and tired, and just a little sleep deprived. He rubbed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the kitchen, wand in one hand while his other scratched his head.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing down here?" He looked between the two of them with peaked curiosity, before turning narrowed eyes towards his younger sister. "You should be in bed."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "Don't be a prat, Ron."

"The last thing Harry needs is you mucking up things that are already mucked up enough."

With a quick glance towards the person in question, Ginny smiled softly towards Harry and realized that their conversation was no doubt over and would most likely not be resumed any time in the near future.

"I think Harry is the best judge as to what he does and does not need," she said in parting, her feet carrying her past her brother and out of the kitchen.

With a look over her shoulder, she smiled softly towards Harry and was not the least bit surprised to find his eyes already on her. Looking at her with that same look she had seen countless times before- the one that said he was no doubt undressing her with his eyes. She loved that look… hated it too.

It caused her to feel rather bittersweet right then.

Her mind was running ramped with a million thoughts going in every direction possible. It wasn't a recent development in the least, being left alone and on the war path with her mother for most of the summer had left her with a lot of down time in her room with nothing but herself and her thoughts. Thoughts of the future, the past, of Harry and her family. Thoughts of things that intrigued her and frightened her both.

While Ginny made her way up the stairs and towards her room, her heart felt heavier and her mind felt numb as thoughts slowed and finally gave her a minutes rest. Finally as she entered her room and made her way past a sleeping Hermione, there was only one thing on her mind.

As she slipped underneath her covers, an odd, somewhat sad smile on her face, glorious images of her and Harry and the memory of his lips on hers carried her to sleep.

(TBC)