Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Title: Compromise
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Summary: Ginny is reluctant, Harry compromises.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: PWP
Word Count: 1300

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Compromise

 

She searched with her gaze through the myriad of colours for a raven-head, but found a tall redhead instead. She smiled and walked across the ballroom as fast as she could, happily grabbing her brother's biceps — the highest point of him she could reach without over-tasking the delicate sleeves of her dress.

"Ron, I'm so glad you made it!" she said enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He waved her off with a grin and then pointed with his thumb. "He's over there."

She didn't even pretend to be apologetic for leaving her brother standing there alone, or was Hermione with him? She wasn't sure. As her gaze found vivid green eyes, she felt her heart swell in her chest, and soon she was walking — floating — in his direction.

She hadn't seen him for a month and now time seemed to stretch even more, eternity passed, until she was standing right in front of him. She had enough sense left in her to notice the Minister keeping him company.

"Minister Shacklebolt ... Harry," she said politely, but slightly out of breath.

Harry merely smiled a happy sort of smile, but there was fire in his gaze that made her feel tingles on her skin.

Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted her warmly. "Miss Weasley, always a pleasure ..."

He said something else, she was sure of it, something about Quidditch and the Harpies and perhaps the weather, but her eyes and her mind focused only on him. Had he always been this handsome? This tall? Surely, a person couldn't change much in a month.

"Well, I'll be going then!" an amused voice said, but she barely registered it.

"You look breathtaking."

Did she say that?

He laughed, flushing a little. "Well, thank you. But I do believe that's my line. Because you do." His gaze took in her entire figure — the red dress exposing her legs to just above her knees, shockingly modest, but it was that kind of gathering. Her red hair was pulled in an elaborate twist, which took two hours to complete, not because it was that hard, but because her hands were shaking in excitement.

Her whole body lit up from his inspection, her breath quickened when his eyes focused on hers again, his gaze burning hotly. "I've missed you," he nearly growled and suddenly she was afraid that the wine glass in his hand would shatter because he was gripping it so hard his knuckles were white. She reached out, touched his hand, and realized too late that perhaps that was a bad idea. His other hand locked around her waist and he pulled her to him, their breath catching, and their lips an inch apart ...

"Harry," she managed. "Guests — we can't, not now."

"Not here," he said and pulled her with him, towards the exit. No, the bathrooms, she realized.

"Harry!" She really tried to sound scandalized — she did — but allowed him to guide her to the girl's bathrooms anyway, where he locked the door first and checked to see if anyone was there afterwards. Luck was on their side because the bathroom was empty.

He put the wine glass on the sink so slowly and deliberately she was reminded of a predator before he would devour his prey. The look in his eyes told her he was about to do just that.

"No!" she said firmly. Loudly. Wondering where on earth did she muster that sudden self-control. She backed away from him and he frowned, visibly surprised.

"Why?" he asked, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

"My dress is un-wrinkled, my make-up is un-smudged, my hair is un-rumpled and they will stay that way, for at least another hour and then we can leave," she said and she meant it. Her whole family was out there, not to mention her colleagues and half the Ministry. She would not walk out of this bathroom looking thoroughly shagged. She had limits.

Harry pouted and gave her his patented I'm-so-sad-but-you-can-make-it-better-if-you-let-me-have-you-right-now look. That look was going to be the death of her. "I will make it up to you, I promise," she said soothingly.

He smiled a little, walking towards her. "Fine, if you promise," he relented and reached out for her, pulling her for a kiss.

Oh, she was so not falling for that one.

"Lipstick," she said and pulled back a little. So, okay, maybe she was a tease. She couldn't say that she didn't like to challenge, especially because Harry always responded eagerly. Now though, he looked annoyed, but then his face brightened and he gave her a feral smile, and Ginny was really starting to worry.

"Harry ..." she warned.

He leaned in and put his lips next to hers, nearly touching. "Fine," he said. "I won't mess up your make-up," his hands wandered beneath her dress, "or your hair," up along her thighs, "and I'll be really careful with your dress." His touch felt too nice and she wanted to give in, but ...

"No, no we can't." Her hands were on his chest, caressing instead of pushing. His head moved closer, his lips trailing along her cheek, and then stopping near her ear. He breathed out, his breath warm, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine, "I want to lick you."

She stopped breathing, she was sure, her eyelashes fluttered and she nearly keened, but he was holding her tight. His hands moved to cup her behind, squeezing roughly, the sudden forcefulness contrasting his soft words. Her dress was bunched up around her hips, and Ginny realized that he lied and would wrinkle her dress anyway. She couldn't concentrate on such silly details though as his hands kneaded her bum, pressing her to him, nearly lifting her of the ground.

"Don't worry, I won't make a mess, but I need to make you scream my name," he whispered and she scarcely had the time to feel his arousal because a second later he was on his knees and her panties were around her ankles. Her eyes were shut, one of her hands was on his shoulder, and the other clutched his hair.

But nothing happened.

She looked down at him kneeling between her legs, his hands on her hips, his lips parted, and eyes dark. He's waiting for eye contact, he wants me to watch, she realized and the minute their gazes locked he moved, tongue first, and went straight for her clit. She gasped and clutched at his hair harder, leaning on his shoulder, the feel of him overwhelming, she missed this so much.

His tongue was insistent, rough, and unforgiving, and she was not sure if she wanted to push him away or bring him closer. She settled on the latter, pulling his head, until she felt his nose buried in her red curls. He didn't complain, only licked harder and she was gone; all thought flew from her mind and there was nothing beside his hot breath and skilful tongue. This won't take long, she thought — he knew her too well. Her whole body shook as he opened his mouth wider, sucking and licking, encouraging her hips to move, letting her fuck his mouth while he moaned his approval.

As pleasure overwhelmed her, she was vaguely aware that he got what he wanted — she did scream his name.

 

***

 

There was a cold, tiled wall at her back when she began to come down from her high. He dutifully cleaned all evidence of her orgasm from her thighs, and that was just too much for her to handle. She opened her eyes, vaguely aware that someone was banging on the door. Harry was leaning casually on one of the sinks, sipping wine. He looked so smug she felt a sudden urge to smack him.

The banging got louder. He smiled at her and pointed his wand towards the door. "Can't wait to see how you'll make it up to me," he said happily, whispered Alohomora and Disapparated.

As a grumbly Parvati Patil burst through the door, giving her an odd look, she thought of a couple of ways to make it up to him, but she didn't think he would take them with that smile on his face.

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Fin

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