Fluffy Firsts: Tales of Harry and Ginny's First Kiss
Molly's Best Berries
By Mr. Intel
Molly’s Best Berries
A light humming escaped Ginny’s lips as she brushed her long tomato-red hair. The bathroom mirror was never as complimentary as she’d like it to be, but it hadn’t yet told her she was an ugly bat as it had Percy the last day he’d spent at the Burrow. Her hand stopped pulling the brush momentarily as she thought about her older brother. Poor Percy had gotten his ambitions mixed up with his loyalties and now he was as far away from being a Weasley as he could be and still have red hair. The only thing that kept her from brooding about it yet again was the presence of the unofficial Weasley, Harry Potter.
He Flooed in the night before from Mrs. Figg’s house an hour after her mum had sent Ginny to bed. That didn’t stop her from staying awake until he had made it safely there and she only fell asleep after his voice carried clearly up to her room. She smiled herself to sleep knowing that he was home at last.
The mid-morning sunlight shown through the light blue curtains in the bathroom and cast a pallid light on her face. She frowned at her reflection and finished running the brush through her hair until it fell in soft waves onto her shoulders. A hurried knock broke her thoughts.
"Hurry up, will you?" She put her brush back into the drawer marked, "Ginevra" and opened the door.
"What’s the rush?" she asked her brother, Ron. He was hopping awkwardly from foot to foot, holding his crotch with both hands.
"I gotta use the loo! Now clear off." He pushed past her and began pulling his pajama bottoms off before she could close the door.
"Ahh!" she mocked. "I’m blind." The door clicked shut and she heard him sigh in relief as he did his business.
"Very funny, Ginny," came his muffled voice.
"Well if you didn’t sleep until ten, you might be able to wait for a girl to freshen up," she shot back, enjoying giving him a hard time.
"Hah," he said, flushing the toilet. "You’re just being girly because Harry’s here." Ron’s emphasis of Harry’s name instantly caused her blood to boil.
"It’s not like that any more Ron, and you know it," she said through clenched teeth. "I gave up on him a long time ago." And she had given up on him, but Ron didn’t need to know that if Harry ever came around to asking her to be something more, she would jump at the chance. Harry would always have a special place in her heart.
"I’m sorry? Who’d you give up on?" With impeccable timing, Harry appeared behind her as she spoke to the closed door, muting the sound of a now running faucet.
For the first time since she was in third year, Ginny Weasley blushed in front of Harry Potter. She turned slowly around, intent on facing him as she had for the past year and a half. "You, Harry. I gave up on the idea of you falling in love with me."
A flicker of something flashed on his face. Surprise? Fear? She couldn’t tell and it went away as quickly as it came. "Well, that’s awfully sensible of you, Ginny. I mean, a girl as pretty as you can’t wait around for a bloke as thick as a cauldron bottom, right?"
The bathroom door opened as she fought a blush for the second time in as many minutes. Ginny was about to tell Harry that he wasn’t that thick, when he pushed past her and into the now vacant bathroom. "See you at breakfast, Gin," he said with a small smile and closed the door behind him.
Ron was smiling wickedly at her, with his arms folded across his chest. "What?" she asked.
"You still like him, don’t you?" Ron said as he waggled his eyebrows annoyingly at her.
"Be quiet!" she whispered fiercely. "He can probably hear us through the door." She tried to push him down the hall, but he wouldn’t budge.
"So," he said, not bothering to lower his voice. "You admit it, then?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and said in a low voice. "I’m not admitting anything Ron, now be quiet!"
He hid a snort in his hand and then held his side as he laughed quietly. "If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be worried about Harry hearing you, Ginny," he said finally containing his mirth.
Ginny made a noise like an angry cat. "Don’t make me hex you!" she said, a scowl on her face. "You know I’ll do it."
Ron paled and held up his hands. "Come on, Ginny. Don’t take it so seriously."
"Shove off, Ron." Ginny punched him in the arm and walked downstairs, just as Harry was finishing in the loo.
*
After breakfast, Molly was levitating the dishes into the sink when she said, "I need you three to pick berries for a strawberry pie before lunch."
"I can’t, Mum," said Ron looking distressed. "I told Hermione I’d meet her at the Leaky Cauldron at eleven."
"Really?" she answered, a faint look of pride on her face. "Well, that’s all right, then. Harry, Ginny," she said, walking back to the table with a pot of flour and some utensils floating in front of her. "You two will have to get the berries for me."
"No problem, Mum," said Ginny, who was glad to be doing something outside for a change. She glanced at Harry, who seemed to be extra happy about something and said, "The sooner the better."
Harry walked to the door and held it open for her. "After you, Gin," he said with a sweeping gesture of his hand.
Ginny normally didn’t like to be treated differently by boys, but somehow thought it was sweet of him and didn’t say anything about it. On the way out the door, she picked up a large hat to keep the sun off her fair skin. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have her nose burned and peeling by the end of the day.
They walked to the berry patch, grabbing two wicker baskets from the shed on the way. The patch was partially shaded by two large Weeping Willows, whose branches hung limply over the ground around it. Several birds were pecking at some berries on the fringe of the patch and Ginny immediately shooed them away before sitting down to get started.
Harry followed her over to the same area and sat down by a particularly large strawberry plant laden with large berries. "Wow, look at the size of these things!" he said, clearly impressed.
"Yeah, mum works dragon dung into the soil every year and we always have a hard time eating them all." Ginny plucked a particularly succulent one and bit into it. She had to lick the extra juice off her lips as she chewed the sweet and tangy berry. "Umm," she said unconsciously. "They’re really good."
Harry was staring open-mouthed at her and his eyes seemed unfocused behind his round glasses.
*
What in the world, thought Harry, desperately trying to wrench his eyes of Ginny’s strawberry red lips. I can’t believe she just did that. He shook his head slightly and finally looked up to her face.
"What?" she asked innocently. "Is there something on my nose?"
Sweet Merlin. She doesn’t know. Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Nothing...it’s nothing."
"Did you want some?" Her lips curved into a demure smile that sent worms squirming around his stomach.
Of your lips? Yes, I’d love to have some! He clamped his hands on his head and muttered to himself, "Stop it, Potter. She’s just a friend. You heard what she said to Ron outside the loo. She’s given up on you."
He looked back up at her to see her looked at him as if he’d gone mad. "Um...yes, I’d love to...uh, have a berry." Smooth, Potter. Real smooth.
Ginny’s smile returned and as she reached to pick another berry, his nervousness seemed to ebb. She held out a particularly ripe one, deep red, and bulging with promised sweetness. Just like her lips, he mused.
Reaching out to take the fruit, he couldn’t look away from her face and grabbed her hand instead, berry and all. She gasped slightly and they both drew their hands back.
"Sorry," he murmured softly, looking down to her hand. She offered it again and this time, he picked it up lightly with his fingers and bit into it. An explosion of flavor burst inside his mouth and he failed to contain the look of pleasure that plastered itself on his face.
Her giggles broke him out of his reverie and his eyes popped open. "What?"
She covered her mouth with a thin freckled hand. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. "The look on your face," she said, still smiling. "It’s like you’ve never had a strawberry before."
"Oh, well...that was no regular berry, Miss Weasley." He felt inexplicably comfortable around her just now. "I’ve had them before, but that...that was something."
She cocked her head to the side a little as she regarded him. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I guess they are something."
They stared at each other and something passed between them. "Well, I guess we better get picking or Mum will curse us for holding her up."
"Yeah," he said noncommittally and they began to pull the berries off their stems and place them in the baskets.
*
That was odd, thought Ginny as she grabbed another large strawberry. She couldn’t help but notice the strange looks he had been sending her the past few days, but shrugged them off as just being part of their increasing friendship. But she had felt something just now; an unidentified emotion that she’d never felt before, that quickened her pulse and filled her with a desire that she found difficult to control. It had never been like this with Harry before and she wondered what it all meant.
Looking at him now, she saw him frowning at the bush he was supposed to be picking berries from. He seemed to be muttering something to himself and when he noticed she was staring locked his eyes on hers.
There it was again; the strange feeling that both excited and scared her. It was thrilling to have his eyes on her in what she could only describe as desire. Yet at the same time, she was afraid that she was mistaken and he really didn’t like her that way. With a small sigh, she broke her eyes away and resumed her task, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face as he continued to stare at her.
*
As Ginny resumed picking berries, Harry had a flash of brilliance. They didn’t come all that often, but he silently thanked whatever deity existed in the universe for the timing of this particular insight.
"Ginny?" he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
She dropped another couple of berries in the basket which seemed to contain many fewer than the time they had spent outside would seem to indicate and looked up at him without answering.
He swallowed down a lump in his throat and picked up the largest strawberry in the patch. "Will you taste this? I think it’s the second sweetest thing in the garden."
She furrowed her brow, but nodded her head just the same and leaned forward, opening her mouth slightly. So far so good. Just don’t mess this up, Potter.
Trembling just a little, he moved toward her and presented the pointy end of the fruit, placing it tenderly between her lips. She bit down and closed her eyes, a small drop of juice clinging to the corner of her mouth.
"Mmm," she said through her closed lips, red and moist. Then swallowing, said, "That was sweet, Harry, but why did you say it was the second sweetest thing in the garden?"
Harry mustered his courage and leaned in even closer, his head brushing the large brim of her hat. "Because, Ginny Weasley, you are by far the sweetest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met and nothing in creation could compare to you." Then without waiting for her to reply, he closed his eyes and aimed his lips at hers.
He heard a small squeak of surprise, then a muffled sigh as she deepened the kiss, bringing her hands up to his neck. Harry promptly dropped the half-eaten berry and pulled her closer. A light breeze pulled her hat off and she grabbed for it, breaking the kiss.
Once again, they stared at each other, faces reflecting the wonder and happiness they both felt. Ginny touched her lips gingerly with her fingers. "Oh!" she said in surprise as if what they’d done just sank in. "This can’t...this isn’t right."
Harry’s face fell with his hands as they hung limp from their sockets. "I’m sorry, Gin...I..."
"No, Harry," she said forcefully, bringing his gaze back to her face. "I mean, I’m over you. I..."
"Gave up on me," Harry finished sardonically. "I heard."
"But, Harry...," she said with deep emotion. "Let me finish?"
He nodded, trying to cling to the wonderful feeling of their kiss before she told him that she couldn’t ever feel that way about him; that he was like a brother to her, and all the other things he had told himself over and over again for the past three weeks.
"You...you," she said seemingly trying to catch her breath. "I think you might have changed my mind."
His head snapped up to see her eyes twinkling again with mischief and a hint of mystery. "Changed your...mind?"
"There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?"
Harry nodded dumbly, still trying to figure out what it all meant. But before he could get very far, she had brought her lips up to his, hovered for a moment as if deciding exactly how to kiss him, then he was lost in softness and strawberries.
*
In the kitchen of the Burrow, an hour later, Molly Weasley was growing concerned. It wasn’t like Ginny or Harry to keep her waiting. They both knew that she needed to get the pie cooked before lunch if she was going to have enough time to finish her other chores. Folding her towel on the counter, she slipped on her garden shoes and walked outside to see what the hold up was.
Turning around the shed, she stopped cold. In the middle of her strawberry patch sat Ginny and Harry, shaded by the long swaying branches of the two willows, kissing. Their baskets lay to the side of them, with hardly a berry in them, but she could tell from here that they had eaten their fair share.
Tiptoeing back to the house, she congratulated herself once again for keeping her berry patch alive and thriving, though this time, it was for an entirely different reason. Yes, she mused, those were definitely my best berries.
Fin
I was bitten with this plot bunny when my daughter and I were picking strawberries from our own berry patch. Two hours later, one piece of shameless fluff! Note the quote I lifted from OotP regarding Ginny making an angry cat noise. Everything else is from my own brain, AFAIK.