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that special smile (April 19th prompt; Fly) @jilymicrofics

Harry‘s just come back inside after the most amazing quidditch match against his Dad.

They‘d woken up extra early today, so they could watch the sunrise from up in the air — it was absolutely freezing, but he didn’t mind.

Scarcely anything’s better than flying on an early summer morning, when the air smells like freshly cut grass.

After quickly running to his room to change, on his Mum’s insistence, he is now sitting at the kitchen table, gladly drinking the hot chocolate she’s just made him, whilst he watches her brew Remus’s wolfsbane potion.

Normally, she’d be doing that in her potion lab down in the basement, but that’s kind of out of service at the moment…after one of his Dad‘s horribly failed experiments.

(„Are you sure we can use that instead of dittany?“ — „Sure, don’t worry, Harry. I know what I’m doing.“)

Turned out, his Dad had not known what he was doing, resulting in the lab to literally blow up, all kinds of neatly stocked potion vials exploding, until the entire basement was one big mess.

His Mum had been so shocked upon finding them, both completely covered in all kinds of potion bits, that she’d started cracking up despite herself.

So yeah, she’s going to be brewing her potions in the kitchen until his Dad fixes up the basement — which, according to him, had been overdue for a proper renovation anyways (sure, Dad).

„Could you bind back my hair?“ his Mum asks his Dad, who’s standing behind her, a sort of hazed look in his eyes as he watches her.

„Course, love.“ his Dad replies, and just like always, he takes the hairband, just a simple, dark green one (his Mum‘s favourite colour), from around his wrist to gently tie his Mum‘s hair up into a ponytail.

Harry watches them with a small smile on his lips — ever since he can remember, his Dad has had a hairband wrapped around his wrist, always one, in case his Mum‘d need him to bind back her hair whilst she’s busy brewing or cooking.

It’s something so small, yet his Mum smiles every time — that one, special smile she’s reserved just for his Dad.

Harry hopes that, someday, he‘d get to do this too, to make somebody smile like his Mum‘s smiling at his Dad.

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Adapted and re-wrote one of my drabbles, since it fit so nicely for @corneliaavenue-ao3 's Taylor Swift Several Sunlit Daylights Fest, with the prompt: "4. Down Bad" Read on: AO3 Harry felt possibly scandalous, as he was sneaking up the little winding gravel road that led to the Burrow. It was eleven pm on a warm July night while the moon and stars were lighting his way on this clear, cloudless evening.

It was quiet, except for some crickets and his footsteps on the gravel no sounds disturbed the evening peace. Bathing in nature's beauty he relished the nightly atmosphere bestowed on him. Feeling confident under the moon's silvery gown he paced up his steps, now skipping up the little shallow hill toward tonight's goal. The little rustical six-storied Wizarding cottage known as the Burrow.

But he wasn’t here for the architecture, if you could even name it that. He was here for something else, someone else. A flame in the dark, his burning light, the love of his life, Ginny.

After a few more minutes he finally arrived at the old building, now simply brandishing his wand, and out of thin air a tall wooden ladder appeared, leaning against the window frame on the third floor. He had a plan.

He climbed up his freshly conjured walkway, trying not to make any more noise than necessary, it was at the end of the day in the middle of the night, and the last thing he wanted, was to wake up the entirely Weasley Clan.  Not that he didn’t like them, quite the opposite, he loved them, they were his second family in all but blood, but tonight he was only here for one of them, for her alone.

He finally reached the last step, his eyes now on the same height as the window, he knew she was waiting in there, as it had been her idea for him to come here tonight in the first place.

So he raised his right hand, trying to still keep his balance as he knocked on the thin glass window, three times, just as they had agreed on, not that it was of any importance, no one else would knock on a third-floor window in the middle of the night in a safe quiet little neighbourhood.

He waited for a second, trying to keep still, even holding his breath so as to not sway too much on the flimsy wooden ladder.

Suddenly the window opened, catching Harry off guard as he stared into the chocolatey dark brown eyes of Ginny who was now sticking her flushed freckled face out of the window, kissing him on the lips sweetly before he could form a single thought in his head. 

It was like a million fireworks went off at once, the whole world seemingly coming to a standstill around just the two of them, and Harry felt like he could levitate.

Only that he couldn’t, quite the opposite, he wasn’t levitating, he was falling… …HE WAS FALLING.  And before his mind could catch up with what was happening the last thing he heard was a loud muffled scream as he forcefully crashed into a tall rose bush feeling the little thorns violently scrape at his skin he roughly landed on the wet cool dirt, the bush luckily feathering the worst of the fall.

“Harry! Are you alright?” He heard Ginny’s voice so full of worry, somewhere in the back of his head.

He groaned, lifting himself up to his knees, his ears ringing, everything hurt, but in a way, he knew none of the injuries were overly serious, he had gotten off lucky.

He felt tender hands grasp at his shoulders, pulling him up. So he lifted his head and looked into his girlfriend's worried eyes, they were wide open as she checked him over it seemed she barely recognised him for the bruises on his face.

“Harry, did you break something, where does it hurt, oh baby I am so sorry!” The words stumbled from Ginny’s mouth as she seemed plagued by guilt and worry.

“It wasn’t your fault Gin…” He whispered. “I guess I just…” He simply was at a loss for words at her stunning beauty, making Ginny giggle. “You truly are down bad, literally!” But her expression changed to one of worry again. “That doesn’t mean that I am not scared though, are you really alright?”

But Harry didn’t want to worry her, if he wasn’t such a fool, he wouldn't have fallen in the first place, so he forced himself to his feet, pulling a gasping Ginny flush against his body, before simply kissing her deeply, all the pain in his body subsiding, becoming a mere afterthought, an anecdote buried under the mass of their blossoming love.

Ginny quickly melted into him, after her surprise had yielded to burning passion, she kissed him back with such force, he felt like an electrical current of pure light was flowing through them, connecting them, their magic dancing through each other's hearts as it harmonised their bodies, entangling their souls. They were one.

And as time stood still, neither of them noticed how the rose buds around them opened, blossoming into fire-red roses, growing under their light, spurred by their magic.

After they finally pulled apart, no scratch, no bruise, and no injury was left on Harry’s radiating body, mended through their unyielding love, where their magic had connected at once. 

He knew their love would prevail over their pain, always and forever.

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Harry and Lily Luna 🩷

Lily Luna had a special connection with her dad, and just like her mom Ginny, she noticed whenever his moods shifted. Visiting his parents' graves was never easy, but as the years passed, it became a little less hard. Every year, on Harry's birthday, they would pay their respects.

As they approached the graves, Lily Luna noticed her dad's demeanor shift with each step. Sitting down by the graves, Harry seemed lost in his thoughts. Lily sensed his sadness and, without a word, let go of her mom's hand. She wrapped her arms around her dad's neck, whispering softly, "Nan said she misses you and loves you loads. She doesn’t like it when you’re sad, daddy. Grandad is smiling at you and said he’s really proud of you,” as she hugged him tight. "Oh, and he told me to say he'd be even prouder if you saved the BIGGEST piece of cake for his favorite Lily-Lu!" Lily-Luna grinned, spreading her arms as wide as she could, emphasizing just how big that piece should be.

#this is so cute #youre making me cry

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After 20 years in this fandom, I'd seriously gotten to a point where I thought I'd seen everything. But seeing a Sn*pe stan posit that James only joined the Order to "show off" is a level of idiocy I never thought attainable.

#pro james potter #say whatever you want but dont twist facts or make up lies just to “support” your argument

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kelsey we need to create an event like... "Old Ass MWPP Writers Bingo" or something (@annabtg and @petals2fish can help too 👴🏽👵🏽) where all the prompts are based on Neopets and FF.net fics like:

hogwarts has a masquerade ball and lily meets a boy (who is obviously devastatingly handsome despite being masked) and he is so nice, they dance all night... is she in love, who could this boy be??

songfic (the song is here without you by 3 doors down)

adjoining head boy and girl rooms and a private common room all to themselves, what will james and lily do??

sirius is dating OC who is best friends with lily and they set james and lily up on a double date tehe

the marauders steal james' clothes while he's bathing in the prefects' bathroom and lily walks in - oh no!

rules include:

run-on sentences required in all fics

any smut must be hyper-realistic (5 orgasms back to back and boys stay hard forever)

fic banners are required and must be made on Paint

I am WHEEZING, Jamie!!!!! God the MASQUERADE prompt fucking hell I’m DYING 😂😂😂😂. Songfics with the lyrics in between the paragraphs so you know what part goes with what lyric, etc.

I’m dying. This is so fucking funny.

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Tumblr Code.

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Harry conjuring a Patronus by staring directly at Umbridge and imagining her being sacked was honestly so iconic of him

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Tom's first year in Slytherin.

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fresh out the slammer

After unsuccessfully trying to steal the Sword of Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley was punished. Not by being sent to the Forbidden Forest, but being sent to Malfoy Manor. She survived months in the Malfoy cellar, but now she just escaped. These are Ginny's first moments of freedom.

Read on AO3 here!

#READ THIS #NOW #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #ginny potter

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OTP of all time i guess???

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Spring Again, Somehow

Written for @corneliaavenue-ao3's TTPD fest

Prompt: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

It was supposed to rain that morning. One last disappointment before it was all over, one more thing to grit her teeth and power through, no matter how trivial. And yet, somehow, the drizzling clouds had parted just in time, and Ginny found herself only a few sparkling feet of water away from the end of her time at Hogwarts, in the same boat that had carried her towards the castle all those years ago. There were four of us in this boat back then, Ginny thought, and tried to ignore the dull ache creeping into her chest.

Hermione sat in front of her, staring straight ahead at the spot on the shore where all the families of seventh-year students were waiting for them. To anyone else, she would have looked the picture of a leader: stoic and calm, chin held high. But Ginny could sense the slightly shallow breathing, the clammy palm that reached back to grasp her own, the small smile as Ginny squeezed her hand back. It was perhaps the first time Ginny knew exactly what Hermione was thinking. It’s over. It’s over. It’s finally, nearly over. Thank goodness. Thank goodness thank goodness thank goodness.

The boat hit the shore with a tiny jolt, and Ginny could hear a distant cheering. It was muffled somehow. Subdued. All Ginny could hear was the roar of the wind, the lapping of the water, her own heart pounding in her head. She thought she might be sick. There were so many people, all of them and none of them strangers, and yet she could already tell exactly who was missing.

She stood, unsteadily for a moment, as she stepped out of the boat and onto the shore. Towards the back of the crowd, a few familiar shocks of red hair made themselves visible above everyone else, and Ginny hardly registered the looks, the chatter, the whispers she’d grown far too used to as she headed straight for them, relief crashing over her. 

Her parents reached her first, their eyes shining with tears as they wrapped their arms around her and squeezed her tight. Sometimes, these days, she couldn’t tell if their hugs felt tighter or weaker. Some strange combination of both, maybe. One she’d never known before last year. 

When they finally pulled apart, her mother was furiously wiping away the tears streaming down her face. 

“Oh Ginny, I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I– ”

“You’d have cried no matter what, I think,” Ginny said softly. “Me being the last one and all.”

This only made her mum cry harder, though she did crack a slight smile. Her dad chuckled softly and pulled her close again. 

“It’s strange, that’s for certain,” he said.

Ginny could only nod into his chest.

Her brothers greeted her next, with varying degrees of enthusiasm and teasing. Even Charlie and Percy had come, which, in the past, would have meant that all of her brothers were here. She hugged George, thankfully less skinny than he’d been at Christmas, and tried not to think.

And there, standing behind the rest of the family (as she was sure he’d insisted), glasses glinting in the sunlight, was Harry. She made a beeline for him, barely registering Ron muttering something to Hermione, and nearly threw herself into his arms. She kissed him, not unlike he had after that Quidditch final her fifth year, only this time there were no whoops, no whistles, no surprises. Just Harry. 

He was warm, and he smelled like home, and Ginny could have stayed there forever, forgotten everything that had happened, everything that was to come. All the letters they’d sent, all the sneaky meet-ups in Hogsmeade, all the hours they’d spent together over Christmas and Easter were nothing compared to the months and years they would have from that point on.

“Hi,” she said as she pulled back, face flushed. 

“Hello to you too,” he said. His eyes were shining, his grin broader than she’d seen in a long time.

There were so many things she could have said, so many thoughts racing through her mind. She felt like she might explode, or fold in on herself, or crumble into pieces until she was small enough to be whisked away by the wind.

“Do you want to go walk by the lake?” she said instead. “Get away from this crowd?” For old times’ sake.

He nodded, pressing his lips to her hair and steering them both toward an empty green spot down the shore.

For the first time since stepping out of the boat, Ginny could see the castle. Like a painting, the clouds had parted just over the grounds, sending great beams of light down, reflecting pearlescent blues and pinks and golds off of the lake and the trees and the castle towers. One year ago, those towers had still been smoldering, the gaping wounds obvious even across the lake. But there it stood, imposing as ever, the place of bloody walls and soaked stone floors and pleading whimpers and screams and sobs in pitch-black dungeons. Of glorious feasts and laughter by the fire and misty sunrise flying and sunny days on the grounds with Harry. 

The place that destroyed her, and the place that made her, too.

She shivered slightly, the rain-chilled wind grazing her face, and felt Harry’s arms hold her tighter. 

“What’re you thinking?” he murmured into her hair.

Ginny paused for a moment.

“I didn’t think I would miss it,” she finally said. “So many times, I just wanted to leave and never come back. This year, first year, every year at some point, honestly. I couldn’t wait to get off that boat today, and yet…”

She trailed off, leaning her head against Harry’s shoulder. Part of her still hoped he couldn’t notice the lump growing in her throat.

“I don’t think that sounds strange,” he said. “I’m, y’know… not always the best judge of that stuff, but–”

Ginny chuckled and grinned into his shoulder. 

“That makes two of us,” she said.

Harry grinned. “At least we’ve got a choice now. You’ll be busy with Quidditch, I’ll be doing my work, and we’ll never have to be back here until Teddy’s the one finishing school.”

“Oh god,” Ginny laughed. “We’ll be so old by then.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, but he was smiling. That lovely, soft smile that made her heart swell. 

I get to see that smile for the rest of my life, Ginny thought. Suddenly she was crying, and laughing again, somehow. And Harry was laughing too, pulling her close, the castle fading into the sunlight.

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It amuses me when people flip their shit whenever someone criticizes hermione or the way she was presented in the movies because more often than not none of them ever say they hate her or feel that she is an awful character but crazy fans still think it the most outrageous think in the world because how dare we not view her as the best thing since sliced bread

#All of this #yeah ok defend hermione #but acknowledge her flaws #and that she wasn't a great friend and person throughout the books

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bugs don’t bite, they gossip (April 17th prompt; Plot) @jilymicrofics

James swirls the tea in his cup — the one Harry’d gifted him back in nursery school that says World’s Best Dad written in a five-year-old’s wobbly handwriting — and takes a long sip, sighing a little as the warmth spreads through him, before he picks up the daily prophet, curious to see what sort of nonsense he’d find on today‘s front page…

His mood plummets instantly.

There, taking up nearly half the page, is a picture of four kids, all of them smiling rather nervously at the camera, though James only has eyes for the, by far, youngest looking of the four — his son.

The Triwizard champions it reads above the picture.

Harry and his three co-champions are all listed below, each of them described in a rather detailed article written by…oh, by Merlins beard…that horrible gossip lover, Rita Skeeter.

James‘s expression only hardens further as he starts reading.

Harry Potter, age twelve—

Twelve?

—will officially participate in the Triwizard Tournament as the fourth and final champion, representing Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry alongside Cedric Diggory.

There is little doubt that, at the meager age of twelve, he most certainly lacks the skills required for such a dangerous Tournament.

Let us hope he is as lucky this time, as he was all those years ago, on that fateful night in Godric’s Hollow.

James stares at those words for a long moment, barely believing Skeeter‘s nerve to mention that night.

Though, the question that remains, as we all wonder; Might Harry Potter have felt the need to ensure his lasting fame by plotting such a rebellious stunt as to put his name into the Goblet of Fire? Or was he pressured to, perhaps not least by his own Father? — famously known Auror, James Potter, 34, who is well known to have been—

Alright, that’s it.

Not able to read anymore of this bloody nonsense, he throws the paper aside, gritting his teeth.

How dare that woman—

„Are you alright?“

He startles slightly at Lily’s sudden question, looking up at her as she enters the kitchen.

„Not really. Have you read Skeeter‘s article about Harry?“ he asks tightly, handing her the prophet. „I swear, next time I see her—“

„James,“ Lily shakes her head, prying her gaze away from Harry’s picture to look into his eyes. „Don’t listen to her. You know she‘ll write anything to sell a good story…“ she sighs, walking up to him to sit down onto his lap. „You’re a good Dad.“

Am I?

His chest tightens guiltily at her compliment. „I’m not sure a good Dad‘d let his kid get into this much trouble,“ he says quietly, instinctively wrapping his arms around her waist. „A good Dad‘d protect his son.“

„You do, James.“ Lily replies gently. „It’ll be okay, alright? We’ll help him. I don’t care what the rules say. We’ll protect him, together.“

James can hear that she’s not only trying to convince him, but herself as well. Although, they’re both painfully aware that, the older Harry gets, the more difficult it becomes for them to protect him.

But she’s right. They‘ll damn well try.

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Career Advice with James F. Potter

"Alright, Evans?"

"Hmm," Lily replied with a quill between her teeth, not looking up from the pamphlet she was reading.

James Potter leaned in above her, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. "What's got you so engrossed, Evans?"

Lily sighed, lifting her eyes from the pamphlet and taking the quill from her mouth. "Nothing, just trying to figure out what I want to do after Hogwarts."

"Ah, an age-old dilemma," James said with an air of mock authority, "But worry not, my dear Evans. James F. Potter is here to rescue you from the clutches of career confusion."

James cranked his head to read the title of the pamphlet Lily was holding, "The Hilgard Apothecary Apprentice Program for Medicinal Potineering," he let out an admiring whistle. "Got to be pretty swotty for that."

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First date nerves(ft.a very entertained Sirus Black)

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Guilty As Sin?

A/N: this is (extremely) mildly NSFW.

Dedicated to loml @merlinsbudgiesmugglers without her, I wouldn't have written it.

For @corneliaavenue-ao3 TTPD fest, I hereby conduct into evidence one very tortured Potter.

Read on AO3 or below:

It wasn’t unusual for him to find Ginny already there when Harry returned home from work. Her training schedule typically finished a few hours before he left the office. Normally, upon arriving home, he found her in the living room, pouring over the latest issue of Quidditch Times, or, if the weather was good, in the garden, flying like she hadn't spent her entire day doing that very thing. Harry did not, as a general rule, come home to find Ginny in their rarely-used dining room, leaning against the wooden table with a thin dragon-hide wallet clutched in her hands.

The smile that had automatically bloomed on Harry's face at the prospect of seeing Ginny quickly morphed into a frown as he inclined his head at the object in her hand. “What are you doing with that?”

“This?” Ginny didn't look the least perturbed by his expression as she held the wallet up, letting it fall open for Harry's inspection. “Like my badge, do you?”

“It's not your badge.” He felt a smirk tug at one corner of his lips, but Harry forced it down, intrigued to see what purpose she'd apparently pickpocketed him without his notice for.

“Of course it is,” Ginny pushed off the table, coming to stand directly in front of him. She held the badge up to his face, conveniently covering Harry's picture with her thumb, so that only the Ministry seal and his name were visible. “See, it says Potter, last I checked, that was my name – now, take a seat, I'm trying to conduct a very serious investigation.”

She pulled out the closest chair and directed Harry into it before he had an opportunity to protest. He watched, from his new seat, simultaneously confused and curious, as Ginny made her way around the table, trailing a finger slowly across the wooden surface before she took the chair directly across from him.

“What seems to be the matter, Auror Potter?” He heard himself ask. Ginny gave him an approving nod, as though he'd just perfectly delivered a line from a script he hadn't known he was reading.

Then her eyebrows pinched together in a look of extreme concern. “I'm sorry to tell you, there's been a murder committed in this house –” the pronouncement was accompanied by a wink that was obviously meant to allay the tension that gathered within Harry upon hearing it. “Geraldine is dead.”

A strong wave of relief rushed through him, quickly receding, giving way to yet more confusion. “Geraldine?” he repeated. “Geraldine the Fanged Geranium?”

The monstrosity of a plant had been gifted to them by Percy; Harry had hated it since the moment it had entered the house, its fangs barred menacingly at anyone who dared look at it. Ginny, on the other hand, in a display of surprisingly Hagrid-like behaviour had been enchanted by the horrid thing and had decided, inexplicably, to name it Geraldine.

“Yes,” Ginny confirmed. “I found her on the kitchen windowsill this afternoon – her leaves were drooping and her petals had fallen off – someone hadn't watered her.”

Harry tried very hard to maintain an innocent expression under the weight of her accusatory glare. “Maybe she's not dead, maybe she's sleeping.”

This suggestion was met by a deeply unimpressed look from Ginny which might have been believable if not for the crease at the corner of her mouth, which Harry knew meant she was trying not to laugh. “Plants don't sleep, Harry.”

“I thought you were an Auror, not an expert Herbologist?”

The crease deepened. “I have many talents.”

“Apparently not keeping plants alive.”

Ginny's eyes narrowed and Harry regretted the comment almost at once. She pushed out of her seat and crossed back around the table, looking down at him as she leant on the wooden surface beside him. “I didn't kill her… you didn't water her.”

“Yes, I did,” Harry protested.

Her arms folded over her chest. “Prove it.”

“That's not how it works,” Harry said through a laugh as he shook his head. “You're accusing me of something, you either need to get me to confess or you have to prove it.”

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this simplified explanation of the justice system, Ginny's smile finally broke free. There was a hint of triumph in it that made Harry's nerves stand on end.

Her hand slid against the smooth surface of the table as she lowered herself until her face was beside his, her lips almost brushing against his ear. “I guess I'll have to get you to confess then.”

Her breath caressed his skin as she spoke. Harry fought against the shiver that tried to creep down his spine. “Good luck with that.”

“Oh, I don't need luck,” Ginny said, sliding closer so that Harry was forced to push his chair back, giving her room to sit on the table directly in front of him. “I have plenty of powers of persuasion.”

Harry snorted in disbelief. “None that would be considered regulation.”

“Maybe not, but I play by my own rules.” As though to prove her point, she extended one of her legs, her toe sliding idly up the inside of Harry's calf. Her head tilted to the side; a wave of vivid red hair cascaded over her shoulder. “Now, are you going to cooperate or do I have to use force?”

Ginny's foot glided past his knee, towards his thigh; Harry inhaled sharply. His eyes met hers across the small distance that separated them and he could see the challenge she'd issued sparking with them. “I think you're going to have to use force.”

“That's a shame,” Ginny sighed as she pushed off the table, though everything about her languid movements suggested that was exactly what she'd wanted him to say. Her hand came to rest on the back of Harry's chair, supporting her as she leaned into him. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, so close but not actually touching him. “I was really hoping to put this case to bed.”

Harry kept his eyes locked on the bare stretch of wall over Ginny's shoulder, determined to ignore the three buttons she'd left open on her shirt, and the view it offered him from this particular angle as much as he was ignoring the insinuation in her words. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Undeterred, Ginny hummed quietly. Her free hand reached up, fingertips finding Harry's chin and forcing his eyes to meet hers again. The heat he saw building in them seemed to transfer to his blood which scorched in his veins. “Why make this harder than it needs to be?”

Her fingers trailed from his jaw to his neck, stroking lightly across his skin. Harry swallowed beneath her fingertips.

His hands gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles turning white, determined not to give her the satisfaction of touching her despite how desperately he wanted to. “Is this how you think interrogations work?”

She moved in closer, all but straddling him on the dining room chair. The tip of her nose brushed against Harry's cheek, her fingers wove up into his hair; his eyes fell closed at the contact. “I'm the Auror, I'll be doing the questioning.” The statement was punctuated by her teeth scraping against the shell of his ear.

His resolve snapped in an instant; Harry's hands left the arms of his chair, finding Ginny's hips instead. He pulled her to him, until her body was settled flush against his. Her mouth was still at his ear, her lips grazing over it, but Harry was rewarded for the bold move by a small sigh that escaped her before she could stop it.

“Really?” He asked doubtfully, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, fingers dancing over her skin. “Because you haven't actually asked me any.”

Momentarily silent, Ginny's back arched into Harry's touch, guiding his hand further up towards her chest. She released another sigh directly into his ear. Harry bit his lip against a responding groan.

“Did you forget to water the stupid plant?” she asked, her tone confirming what Harry had always suspected; she didn't have the patience to be an Auror.

“If I confess, are you going to show me leniency?” he aimed for an amused tone, but Ginny's hips rolled against him as he spoke and his words came out audibly strained.

That small hint of weakness from him was enough for Ginny to regain some of her composure. Her smile was downright sinful as she pulled back from his neck, pausing with her face barely an inch from his. Her lips brushed softly against his as she spoke, “I never have before… but why don't you try it and see?”

Ignoring the suggestion, Harry surged forward, determined to turn her frustratingly light movements into a real kiss, but Ginny leaned back out of his reach. Her tongue darted out, licking against her maddeningly out of reach lips. One of her eyebrows quirked upwards, the gesture a silent command.

He hesitated for a moment, weighing his options, his gaze caught on Ginny's glistening mouth.

A second was all she allowed. One of her hands disentangled from his hair; her fingers slid down his neck, caressing against a spot beneath his ear where they both knew he particularly liked her mouth. “Of course, if this isn't working for me, I can try other, less physical methods to–”

“Guilty.”

Tne word burst from him before Harry could stop it. He couldn't really remember what he was confessing to anymore. He didn't care as long as Ginny was moving back towards him as she was currently doing, her sultry smile suggesting that he'd made the correct choice in letting her win this one. If this was the punishment –

“I'm definitely guilty.”