Last Time
Harry sat up as green flames appeared in his fireplace. His breath caught when Ginny strode though.
She was wearing a short black dress that hugged every curve of her body. It made his mouth go dry, but the furious look on her face told him nothing had changed.
Fresh off another date, it seemed. Since the Battle of Hogwarts, every one of hers had been all over the papers. It killed him every time, but he couldn’t make her forgive him. Couldn't make her want him back. But if she was there…
“Ginny—”
“You don’t get to talk,” Ginny said, striding towards him.
“Wha—”
She shoved him back onto the couch and straddled him. Their lips met in less of a kiss and more of a crash. A battle for dominance.
That passion was what he’d always loved most about her. What drew him towards her, like a moth to a flame.
And, like the moth, he knew he would burn.
“Ginny—”
She grappled for his belt buckle and undid the zip on his denims. “I said no talking.”
He kissed her again instead, hoping she could taste his apology. That she could find a way to forgive him for making her believe he was dead, for walking to said death without a word of goodbye.
He had saved their world, but if he lost Ginny because of it, some days he questioned if it truly had been worth it or not.
She sunk down onto him and he couldn’t think of anything but the pleasure of her warm heat as she rode him. He slid his hands up her thighs, but she grabbed them and moved them to the couch cushions.
“No touching, either.”
She gripped his shoulders and began moving faster. He could feel his pleasure building and gripped the fabric of the couch, trying his best not to come too soon, to hold on as long as she needed.
When he finally felt the familiar feeling of her walls squeezing him, he let go, thrusting up into her until both of them finally stilled.
She sagged forward against his chest, panting for breath. After so long, having her back in his arms was everything he’d ever wanted.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry he broke up with her. Sorry he left her to face Snape and the Carrows on her own. Sorry he didn’t tell her how he felt before the battle began. Sorry he didn’t say goodbye to her. Sorry he let her believe he was dead. Sorry she wasn’t the first person he ran to as soon as Tom was dead.
Sorry for every moment they had spent apart.
She stiffened and pulled away. “This isn’t going to happen again.” She rose and he felt her absence like a blow to the chest.
“I love you.”
“Goodbye, Potter.”
With another flash of green flame, she was gone as swiftly as she’d arrived.
Still, for the first time since she’d slapped him across the face when he’d finally found her hours after the battle, he felt hope.
If she felt nothing for him anymore, if she’d given up, it was a lost cause. But the fact that she was still so angry but still wanted him…she felt something for him.
It was time to stop moping around Grimmauld and do what he did best.
Fight for the people he loved.