FicWad

Chapter Seven
First Date

Harry barely watched Ron and Hermione board the knight bus before he had spun around and hurried to open the door that concealed the cupboard under the stairs. Even as he caught sight of her, a surge of anticipation shot through him. Harry had never been surer that he was totally in love with Ginny than he was at that moment.
“Is the coast clear?” asked the redheaded teen with a teasing smile.
“I still can’t believe that they just showed up!” cried Harry, pulling Ginny into a tight hug. When she smiled at him, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her deeply.
“They were worried. They probably thought that they would come and spend a few days, maybe just to reassure themselves that you hadn’t gone after Voldemort yourself, or maybe to make sure you would be okay with the Dursleys until your birthday. Actually,” a slight frown marred Ginny’s forehead as a thought occurred, “They probably left less sure that you’d be okay then before they came. I think Hermione’s finally woken up to the fact that your family has never treated you with even the least amount of respect. It was probably that damn cupboard that finally decided her. I know that when I saw it, I knew that those muggles are the scum of the earth!”
“I don’t know,” Harry said with a grin, “I know I have at least one very fond memory of it.”
Ginny blushed and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Glad to be of service,” she teased.
“Well, if you really mean that, then there are a few rooms in this house that could do with a happy memory or two…” Harry suggested, half teasingly.
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Harry said before leaning down to kiss her. As his tongue slid into her mouth, Ginny allowed her arms to snake up around his neck. His thumb caressed the small of Ginny’s back as they stood entwined. Harry pulled the girl closer, bringing her flush against his growing erection. She moaned quietly, and eased his shirt over his head. Ginny trailed kisses down Harry’s front, starting just below his jaw, and continuing until her lips brushed his pant’s waistband. Her fingers stroked him through the layers of cloth, and he gasped. Harry leaned over to brace himself on the wall with Ginny kneeling before him, pulling his zipper slowly down. She rid him all his clothing, and then brushed shy fingers up and down his length.
Suddenly Harry pulled her until she was standing, pinned to the wall by his naked body. She made only one, whispered complaint: “Too many clothes,” she said, her voice husky. Harry was only too happy to oblige her by removing the old shirt and short shorts that she wore. He fumbled briefly with the clasp of her bra, and then slid off her panties. Now he knelt before her, and Harry pushed her hips to wall, spreading her legs as he did. Harry trailed kisses on the insides of her thighs. He pressed one, very brief, kiss to her red curls, then Ginny pulled him upright again. Harry hooked her legs around him, and drove into her centre. Ginny gasped, and then urged him on.
Moments later, the pair slid down the wall, spent for the moment. They regained their breath and equilibrium before either spoke. “I could definitely use a shower,” Ginny said, pushing hair from her sweaty brow.
“Me, too,” Harry agreed.
“Want to share?” suggested the grinning fifteen-year-old girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived.
“Who knew Ginny Weasley was so insatiable?” teased Harry, scooping up his boxers and putting them on. Ginny pulled his shirt over her head and smiled at him.
“Are you turning me down?” she asked, knowing that he wasn’t likely to.
“Hell, no!” he said, grabbing her hand and leading the way.
After they had showered, the pair settled down to eat. They kept up a steady conversation over dinner, arguing over which DADA teacher had been the absolute worst. Harry thought that there was a tie for worst between Snape and Umbridge, but Ginny thought that worst had to be Lockheart, mostly because she thought that everything that had to do with her first year was the worst.
Later that night, the pair fell into Harry’s bed, neither even acknowledging the sleeping bag that Harry had used on the first night of her visit. After they had made love again, they held each other close, and slept. Ginny and Harry woke late the next morning for more of the same, setting the pattern until the very last evening before Ginny finally decided that she would go stir crazy if she didn’t get out of the house. When she declared that, Harry looked up in surprise.
“Don’t you ever get tired of not leaving this damn house? Hell, we’re actually not even using the whole house, because we always stay in your room or the kitchen!” Ginny said, feeling very cooped up.
“I hadn’t realised you felt that way. I just sort of got used to not leaving a while ago, particularly because there’s not usually anywhere a person can go with out running into Dudley. Did you maybe want to go out to supper?” Harry asked.
“I would love to! Just let me pull on some jeans and a clean shirt,” Ginny said happily, jumping up from the bed where she had been sitting with Harry to rummage in her bag.
“Are you going to where one of yours or mine?” asked Harry teasingly. He was actually quite fond of Ginny’s habit of stealing his shirts, but he didn’t feel she needed to know that.
“Mine! I have the perfect one, too!” Ginny told him, pulling a purple halter-top on, and tossing her bra aside. She had forgotten her strapless one, and besides, she really didn’t ever have to wear one if she didn’t want, as her chest was fairly small. She wore dark denim jeans now, and had pulled her long hair into a graceful ponytail. Harry thought she looked wonderful.
“Are you going to stare at me forever, or are you going to grab a clean shirt?” she asked, amused.
“Which one should I wear?” Harry had decided that Ginny probably cared more than he did what he wore, and that he always liked what she picked out for him.
“Wear the black t-shirt, Harry.” Ginny told him, smoothing lip-gloss across her mouth. “Are you ready?”
“Sure am,” said Harry, who still had enough muggle money left from grocery shopping earlier in the week that he didn’t even have to stop to raid Dudley’s room.
“Good, I’m ready for our first actual date!” Ginny told him excitedly.
“I hadn’t really thought of it that way,” Harry commented, with a bit of a grin as they walked down the quiet streets of Privet Drive.
“Well, don’t, or you’ll realise that I slept with you even before our first date,” Ginny told him, earning a laugh in reply.
The pair ate in a small café not far from the Dursleys’ home. They chatted and held hands and acted much like any teenaged couple on a date. They were walking back at sunset that night, before either brought up the fact that Ginny would have to soon leave or risk worrying her mother. “I guess we should think about hurrying back so I can pack,” sighed Ginny.
“I suppose,” Harry replied glumly. He had known that Ginny would leave that night, but it didn’t seem possible that they only had a few hours left to be together.
They paused at the front door of Privet Drive. Neither wanted to go in, because then Ginny’s bag really would have to be packed. She would leave, and then he would be alone with the Dursleys until his birthday allowed him the freedom to go to the Weasley’s home. He would arrive two days prior to Bill’s wedding, and would spend the rest of the summer there, but what real chance would they have being alone? They couldn’t even really tell the others to buzz off and give them some time, because they had to pretend that they weren’t together, for the good of a lot of people. A feeling of complete hopelessness seized Harry and he grabbed Ginny, his mouth slanting across hers in a manner that seemed to demand that she make all the problems go away.
They stood kissing for quiet some time before one of them opened the door they had been leaning against and they fell through it, nearly landing on the hall floor. Harry pushed the door shut, closing off the view that the little old lady across the street had had of the young pair. She had followed them since they had passed her street a few blocks back, and now she stood, waiting for something else to happen. She stood there an hour, until the red headed girl who had been locked in the boy’s arms came out. She was carrying a bag, and she walked down the street and out of sight around a corner. Only then did the lady return home, preparing to write a short letter.
Though she wrote her note with a ballpoint pen on an ordinary pad of paper, Arabella Figg took the envelope to the owl that had been left in her care by a wizard friend of hers. The note’s was addressed to Remus Lupin and contained a report on all that she had seen a certain raven-haired teenage boy do over the course of the summer thus far.