Author's Note: Hello everyone! Yes I know, it's about bloody time – I know! I'm truly sorry. I really wanted to have my story pretty much all written out before I posted anything, but I'm having some writer's block and I keep putting off writing (I do have LOTS to do), sooooo

I'm just going to post this first chapter, and after I start getting complaints for an update, maybe that will get my butt moving and my fingers typing.

In other words, I don't really know where I going with this story, well that's actually a lie, I know where it's going in terms to set up the (hopefully) third story, but I'm not too sure how to get there…

Anyways, here you go folks…

(Hope you like it!)



Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired. - Robert Frost

-New Found Feelings-

The boy who lived.

He was tired of hearing that name. He remembered hearing it for the first time when he was eleven. Then he was awestruck, now it irritated him. But that wasn't the worst.

Being referred to as the "boy who lived" meant that people stared at him with fascination and interest. But being labeled, "The Chosen One", well that came with a completely different set of reactions.

It was a name that had been granted to him when the wizarding community learned about his escapades at the Ministry of Magic, back at the end of his fifth year. And unfortunately, after a year and a half, the name still stuck.

The Chosen One, it made him want to laugh. He him self knew that it was true, for he had heard the entire prophecy with Dumbledore, but what the magical world didn't know, was just how close to the truth they really were.

He had come to terms with the prophecy last year, when Dumbledore had reveled to him the concept of Horcruxes and what ultimately had to be done.

Harry knew full well what was in store for him, he knew exactly how hard it was going to be to destroy Voldemort, and he had spent many endless days and nights thinking about it.

But with Dumbledore endlessly searching for the next Horcrux to be destroyed, Harry had nothing more to do than to try and be a normal teenage, which meant finishing school, playing quidditch and having fun with his friends.

And as Harry lay on the floor in his makeshift bed, currently dreaming on this cold and dark Christmas night, his mind was Voldemort free, but his heart was racing none the less…

… She planted big, wet kisses all over his face…

… He picked her up and threw her onto the bed…

… She continued to kiss his lips, while her fingers quickly unbuttoned the front of his quidditch robes…

… She ripped the robe off of him, so he was leaning over her, shirtless but still wearing the crimson pants…

…They continued to kiss, passionately and hard as Harry unbuttoned her white blouse. As the buttons came off, his breath increased and he felt his stomach tighten in a fit of excitement.

He wanted her… wanted her so badly… he wanted to see what it felt like to be inside of a woman, and what better women to be inside besides her?

When all of the buttons were undone, Harry slowly pushed the material aside and stared down at a pair of beautifully shaped, perky breasts that were pale and so provoking, barely hidden underneath an emerald silk bra…

…green, his favorite color… it made him go crazy as he lowered his head to her chest, and licked and sucked at her nipples, still hidden under the soft silk…

…She moaned as she lay on the bed, enjoying the feeling of being pleasured by him… and then she began to moan his name…

…Harry felt that this was the moment, this was the time, and so he climbed on top of her… lifted up her skirt… unzipped his pants…


"AHHHH!" roared Harry as he was rudely awakened by Ron's fist landing squarely between his eyes. Harry closed his eyes tight and attempted to rid him self of the pain as he tried to remember where he was.

"Ron, what the hell was that for?" Harry yelled at Ron, finally realizing what had just happened.

Ron's bedroom was very dark, and Harry did not yet have his glasses on but he could tell that something was up. One usually didn't awaken their best mate by a hard left jab.

"You were moaning my sister's name!" said Ron in a highly irritated tone.

"Really?" asked Harry, some what nervous and now scared.

"Yeah, really. I mean what the hell were you dreaming about, moaning her name like that? You woke me up, you were so loud and-"

"Well I'm sorry, but I was dreaming that Voldemort was about to kill her," lied Harry quickly, forcing a sound of annoyance to his voice.

He really didn't want Ron to question him any farther, because he knew fully well that he'd probably be dead within twenty seconds if Ron found out what he had been dreaming about.

Although Harry couldn't see him in the darkness, he could tell by Ron's silence that he had probably believed him, and the tone of Ron's voice made Harry believe that he was feeling ashamed,

"Oh. Um… Sorry about conking you over the head. I - well - it really did sound like something else." said Ron quickly.

Harry lay back down on the floor, "It's alright, but never wake me up like that again, okay? It really hurt." He said while rubbing his forehead.

"Sorry." said Ron quickly and then he too lay back down on the bed.

The two boys said nothing else to each other. Instead they lay in their respective beds and tried to go back to sleep, well at least Ron tried.

Harry on the other hand was too busy reliving his dream, and as he did he grew increasingly happy that Ron's room was still dark, for this way he wouldn't have to explain the tent he was pitching in his pants.

Harry blushed as he looked up embarrassedly to Ron's bed, and when he heard Ron's snores, Harry rolled over to his side and felt a bit more comfortable.

As Harry stared off into the darkness of Ron's room he began to think.

The previous night at the Burrow had been spent singing and dancing, eating and celebrating to a wonderful Christmas and Ron and Hermione's engagement. But the events of the night before did not offer Harry much comfort; on the contrary, they gave him much pain.

As he had watched Ron and Hermione laughing, kissing and holding each other, his own heart, although very happy for his friends, fell into a pool of sadness.

Why hadn't he found love?

He thought he had found a kind of love in his girlfriend Luna, but after watching his two best friends together, he realized that what he felt for Luna was nothing more than love for a friend, and a touch of infatuation.

Harry rolled over uncomfortably, his mind was troubled, but not over the usual things.

Normally his mind would be over worked with school and Voldemort, but now he only had one thing on his mind, actually one person.

As he rolled over on his makeshift bed, he began to think endlessly about her…

Her smile… her scent… her laugh…

And then he mentally slapped himself,

How could I be so stupid! How come I never saw this coming, or noticed before?

The more he thought about her, the more he wanted her, but there were problems. Firstly,

I'm dating Luna! How could I do this to her? I mean we're not really that close… maybe she'd take the break up okay… I really don't want to hurt her feelings… I really do like her, but I'm not in love with her…

Then there was the second problem,

She's your best mate's sister! He'd kill you if you ever so much as looked at her in that way, never mind date her…

Problem number three,

She probably doesn't like me, I mean sure, she did send me a Valentine, but that was way back in second year!

And the biggest problem of all,

Ginny's been dating Dean for over two years! She wouldn't still be dating him if there weren't feelings there, would she?

Harry rolled over on his back and stared hopelessly at the ceiling. He really didn't know how it had all started, but his new found feelings for Ginny were becoming increasingly unbearable.

What he had noticed was that he always seemed to have a pull towards Ginny Weasley.

When staying at the Burrow she was the one to play tricks on Ron with; she was the one to talk about quidditch with; the one he made jokes for and the one he playfully teased.

He had noticed that it was she that he always ended up sitting next to on train rides and at meal times, and she was the one person that he always tried to spot in a crowd of people.

But it seemed to Harry that he had made this revelation all too late, for now there seemed to be too many problems in the way…


Ginny Weasley lay motionless in her bed as she stared up at the ceiling, imagining Harry sleeping on the floor above her.

After a few more moments of staring, she quickly shook her head,

What the hell am I doing?

Ginny angrily rolled over in her bed and pulled the sheets up to her neck, and desperately tried to push Harry out of her head.

Why did she love him so?

Why couldn't she get him out of her mind?

Why did his face and his smile and his green eyes linger in her head, teasing her, reminding her of something she didn't have?

A long time ago Hermione had advised Ginny to be her self, and lot good that had done. It didn't make any difference; none at all, for it seemed that Harry Potter didn't even know she was alive.

Well of course he knows I'm alive, Ginny thought angrily, He just doesn't find me as attractive as that tall, blonde, weird Loony Luna!

Ginny's anger rose as she remembered that day during the summer when she spent that long and dreadful visit at Luna Lovegood's house. That was when she received the worse news of her life,

"I'm dating Harry!" Luna had said in bright-eyed wonderment.

The sight had made Ginny want to puke, but she couldn't at the time because of pure shock.

Harry dating Luna?

How did this happen? How could this happen? Still, after these many months, she had no answer.

Why did he like this annoyingly weird but beautiful girl when she, his best friend's sister had been right under his nose for so many years!

Ginny felt the tears start to form in her eyes.

She tired to push him out of her mind. She tired to think of something, anything but him.

And for a few moments, she did manage. She had quickly busied her mind with thoughts about school, and exams…

Thoughts about studying, about balancing homework with study… with quidditch… and watching Harry ride on his broomstick… zooming faster and faster in the air with such amazing skill and talent and – what was she doing?

How on earth was it possible for her mind to always creep back to him?

Wasn't she over him?

After how many years of hoping and praying that he would do something, wishing and dreaming about it, to have absolutely nothing happen at all.

She felt stupid for ever liking him, she felt dumb and idiotic – but still, a part of her still ached for him.

What was her problem?

Was she really in love, or just very obsessed, for this kind of constant thought of a person sure seemed like obsession at times.

Ginny took a deep, slow breath and as she exhaled the air, she tired to rid herself of her thoughts too, but it didn't work.

Her mind was swimming with thoughts and emotions, all about Harry… always about Harry…

And then she started to do something she had done a million times before; she started to relive and analyze every moment she ever had with him, every pitiful touch, glance, smile, wink, nod, response and question he had ever asked her, she began to analyze all of it.

She searched and searched for some hope… hope that he might like her…

She lay in her bed, thinking endlessly until the morning sun began to rise slowly in the sky, hidden behind a thick layer of winter clouds.

Unfortunately Ginny would not be alone for very long. Hermione was sleeping at this moment on the floor beside her, but much to Ginny's displeasure, Hermione was not there to comfort her.

The night before, Christmas Eve, Ron had asked Hermione to marry him, and although Ginny was truly happy for them, she couldn't help feeling angry, hurt and depressed.

There you go! She thought to herself,

Everyone in this world has found love and happiness except me. Everyone expect Ginny Weasley who will probably never get married but instead, will live with 90 cats in a house all alone…

Ginny lay now on her bed, crying into her hands, tears of anger, disappointment, pain, sadness and rage…

Why do I love him! She screamed silently to herself,

Why can't I stop thinking about him! He doesn't like me! There you go! He's dating someone else! HE DOESN'T WANT YOU!

A few moments later, Hermione woke up to the sound of Ginny's not-so-silent tears, and slowly sat up on the floor and peered over the bed.

Ginny had her back to her, but Hermione could tell by the rise and fall of the blanket that Ginny was having a rough time.

Hermione didn't know whether or not she should say something, so instead of talking, she quickly wrapped herself in her robe and exited the room, and headed down stairs for an early breakfast.

Ginny lay quietly while she heard Hermione dressing, but now that the room was all hers, Ginny whipped the sheets off of her and lay sprawled out on the bed, tears dripping down the sides of her cheeks.

She was glad that Hermione hadn't asked any questions, because she really didn't want to talk about this.

After all, she was supposed to be happily dating Dean…

Ginny snorted.

It wasn't that Ginny didn't like Dean Thomas, it was just that he could never, ever compare to Harry Potter, no matter how hard he tried.

Dean was just not as interesting, mysterious, troubled, funny or cute and honestly, Ginny no longer wanted to try and convince herself that someday she might like Dean more than Harry.

Because that would never happen.

And then Ginny paused.

Without thinking, she got off of her bed and walked to the full length mirror at the other end of her room. She stood there, in front of it, staring at her reflection in the early morning glow, looking herself up and down…

She was beautiful, she knew it, and so did all of the boys. She was average in height, but her body and face were anything but average. Her breasts were of a good size and her waist was small. Her back sloped beautifully to her small round butt, and her legs were long and slender.

Her eyes were almond shaped and dark blue, and her long strawberry-blonde hair had a touch of a wave and framed her perfectly shaped face. Her nose fit just right and her lips were a touch plump, and all the boys thought they were all so kissable.

And as Ginny stared at her reflection she had the sudden urge to undress. She ripped her nightgown and panties off and stood in the mirror staring at her naked body.

How sexy and seductive a woman was… how beautifully we were created, she thought, how perfect…

Gentle curves… supple breasts… wide hips… long hair…

And the longer Ginny stared at herself in the mirror, the more her confidence grew…