Author's Note: While not too stellar an amount of reviews I still like to thank those that did enjoy my story. In truth, I had meant for this to be only a one-shot but I thought that perhaps Ginny should be treated to something as Harry had. Also, the true inspiration for the first chapter is my fiancé, whom liked the story and caught all the references about her I made in the form of Ginny.
Ginny was hot. There was no question about it. The August day was bright and clear, though stifling and bordering on unbearable. If winter were to strike tomorrow it would be too late for Ginny Weasley would already have been a puddle of goo occupying the ledge of her bedroom window.
A sudden sound broke her wanderings of cool breezes and iced drinks. Hermione, her usual roommate over the course of the summers, dropped one of her schoolbooks in a fit of annoyance. Strangely enough she left the book on the ground, pages bent and spine cracking. A wearying sigh escaped her lips.
"It's too hot," muttered Hermione, fanning herself with a spare bit of parchment. Neither young witch had felt the need to dress normal for the day. Both had chose out of the large mounds of laundry a couple of large shirts and shorts, which struck a resemblance to men's boxers. Hermione had gravitated to wear an over-sized orange monstrosity much to Ginny's chagrin. Sometimes, things happened that gave away just how laid back and girlish Hermione could be, especially when it came to certain boys.
Ginny had chosen what appeared to be an old shirt of perhaps either Charlie or Bill, though, she could not quite imagine either wearing something overly large with the name "Smelting's" fading on the front. Either way, the shirt was soft and comfortable. Intriguing as it was, there was a lingering scent on it that gave her a wonderful relaxed feeling. Ginny could not place where she recognized it, but it was nice and very comfortable.
"What do you want to do?" Ginny asked lazily. Fanning herself with the shirt, she was caught up with the slightly intoxicating fragrance of cologne and broom wax. An unbidden daydream popped into her mind of strong arms holding her close, of feeling safe and content. Ginny tried to imagine Dean Thomas' arms surrounding her, but the dream didn't hold true. Suddenly, it was Harry's face before her. It was Harry's arms holding her close.
"Ginny?" Hermione asked forcefully.
"Yes?" Ginny caught herself before rolling of the window ledge.
"Where were you?" Hermione teased. The young witch was quite perceptive, annoyingly so in Ginny's case.
"Nowhere," Ginny blushed. Hermione smirked at her as if she were not sharing the entire truth with her.
"Very well," Hermione replied, still lounging across the bed. "I had mentioned perhaps we should go swimming."
"That sounds wonderful," Ginny answered quickly. "I'll go see if Harry and Ron want to go."
Ginny left the room quickly to avoid the all-too-knowing gaze of one Hermione Granger. Sometimes, she found her completely unbearable and off-the-wall with just how logical her mind worked. Other times, Ginny was certain Hermione was as clueless as every other girl.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Ginny reached out to knock on Ron's door when a sight sent chills through her entire body. Silent as can be, the young redhead peeked into Ron's room. There, standing silhouette in front of the attic window was Harry. He had finished showering. His black hair was spiky and still wet. His bare chest and lean frame gave Ginny pause. The hall seemed a bit tiny and if it were possible, the temperature rose higher. Suddenly, Ginny witnessed Harry wore only a towel around his waist, which with a twist, fell from his body.
Oh my, Ginny blushed furiously. Her fist hung in the air, but she felt as if her heart was somewhere in her throat.
He's my brother's best friend. He's my brother's best friend. Ginny closed her eyes repeating the words like a mantra to ward against the myriad of naughty thoughts flashing through her mind. A gust of wind broke Ginny out of her revelry.
There was little doubt as to who could be more stunned on the stairs leading to Ron's room. Harry stopped drying his hair when he pulled open the door. Ginny only wished with all her might that the world would be so kind enough to swallow her whole this one time. The seconds ticked by slowly as the two teenagers wondering how they had come to be in this predicament.
"Hi," Harry smiled.
"Uh…hi, Harry." Ginny answered weakly.
"Were you going to knock?" He nodded to her raised fist.
"What?" Ginny puzzled, then lowered her arm and blushed profusely.
"Actually," Ginny squeaked. She took an extra second to find her voice. Her eyes roamed the hall marking every nook and cranny to avoid looking at Harry. "I was going to ask if you and Ron wanted to go swimming."
"Swimming?" Harry mused. Finally looking at him again, Ginny watched in wonder as a drop of water fell from his chin. She was in silent agony as the droplet tantalizingly followed the lean sculpt of Harry's chest. Ginny desperately fought the unrelenting urge to reach out and trace the path of water with her fingers. Never before had she ever wanted to be something so simple as a drop of water in her entire life. Heat bloomed in her chest as Ginny's eyes widened when the droplet reached the waistband of Harry's boxers.
"Yes," Ginny took a delicate breath. "Wanna go?"
Harry smirked. Ginny felt her knees weaken at the sight. For the past five years, never once has the lopsided grin of Harry Potter not give her a wondrous feeling of pure bliss. The young red head noticed the quick play of his eyes down her own body then back up to her eyes. If she were a betting woman, Ginny would lay down even odds that Harry Potter of all people was checking her out. Suddenly, a memory crossed her mind of what occurred a few days ago downstairs in the living room. Ginny remembered the look on Harry's face when she was balanced on the chair, with her legs bare. Hermione had admonished her for acting in a way that Ginny swore she had not, but looking back on it now, she was quite wanton in her search of the Snitch, especially in the living room. She now came to the idea in which Harry was a bit more taken with her because of that moment. That singular idea brought up a whole new array of emotions that she had never once fought against since first seeing Harry getting on the train with the help of her brothers six years ago.
"Sure," Harry flashed Ginny another smile, which left her stomach all aflutter. "Let me grab my swim trunks and I'll meet you and Hermione downstairs with Ron."
Ginny nodded, then moved aside to let Harry pass. As he stepped down, the young witch caught the subtle scent of cologne and broom wax. Ginny stunned herself with the realization of just whose shirt she was wearing.
"Oh, and Ginny?"
"Hm?" Ginny returned a goofy smile. She felt her cheeks burn when as she turned to him.
"Nice shirt," Harry teased. "And shorts, too." He continued down the stairs and around the corner. Shocked again within the manner of minutes, Ginny checked the tag on the pair of shorts she wore. Sure enough, merely assuming they had been one of her elder brothers, she was wrong. Ginny discovered the telltale letters of H and P written on the tag.
Embarrassed beyond belief but also aware Harry was openly flirting with her. She smiled to herself, having also gotten a nice view of his rear as well as other things when he left. Making a note, Ginny went to fetch Hermione and prepare for the trip to the creek.
"Same to you, Mr. Potter," she fanned her shirt while talking to no one. "Same to you."