Birthday Surprises
Title: Birthday Surprises
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Words: 3152
Summary: Despite some major setbacks, Ginny manages to have a rather brilliant birthday after all.
A/N: Belated Happy Birthday to hgrhfan35! Sorry this took so long, C, but I hope you like it. ☺
Birthday Surprises
Ginny Weasley was not having a good day.
Scratch that - she was not having a good week.
It was bad enough that she had spent the days leading up to her twentieth birthday in virtual lockdown in some bloody training camp in Holyhead with the rest of the Harpies, thus making her miss some potentially hot celebratory sex with her boyfriend, but to make things worse, said boyfriend had Owled to regretfully tell her that he would be disappearing for a week in the wilds of Northumbria, rounding up some idiot Dark wizards who didn’t have enough sense to give up the minute they found out that their arses were about to get kicked by THE Harry Potter.
There went the post-birthday sex too, damn it, and she had been so looking forward to re-enacting that very interesting love scene she had read in The Convivial and Capricious Capers of Miss Cornelia Capricorn, the latest Fifi LaFolle novella. (Although she was still a bit sceptical at the prospect of hanging upside down for that prolonged a time - wouldn’t anyone lose consciousness long before anything interesting happened?)
So here she was, working out her frustrations the best way she knew how - by flying like a madwoman. And though training had officially ended hours ago, and they had been told that they needn’t come back until next weekend, Ginny still couldn’t make herself come down from the air and face the reality that she would be going home to the empty flat she shared with Harry. She supposed she could go to The Burrow, except her mum would surely make a fuss and drop not too subtle hints that it was high time that her only daughter get married and contribute to the ongoing expansion of the Weasley family tree.
Ginny chewed on her lip, frowning. While she and Harry had talked about having children, the conversations were nebulous and hypothetical - and usually came about right after they had just had wild monkey sex and they couldn’t, for the life of them, remember if they had cast a proper Contraceptive Charm.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Harry was planning on asking her to marry him anytime soon. And if he ever did actually get around to proposing, would she agree to be his wife? Not that she was even thinking of turning him down, but they were still young and only beginning their respective careers. Harry was a rising star in the Auror corps, and her Quidditch career had only really begun to take off last year.
Although truth be told, the thought of having Harry’s babies made Ginny’s insides feel all warm and fluttery…
“Weasley!”
Ginny looked down to see Gwenog Jones waving at her. She guided her broom towards the ground and landed in front of her Captain.
“Why are you still here?” the dark-skinned witch asked brusquely.
Ginny shrugged. “Lost track of time, I suppose.”
“I see.” Gwenog eyed her shrewdly. “Anyway, these came for you a couple of days back. I couldn’t give them as we had a no correspondence rule in force during that time, if you recall, and I’m sorry I forgot to give them to you at the end of practice.” She handed Ginny a bunch of rolled-up parchment. “Get out of here, Weasley. That’s an order. Go home and give my regards to your family and that boyfriend of yours.”
“When I see him, I will,” said Ginny. I wonder when that will be, she added silently. Once again, the prospect of a cold, empty flat loomed, and she decided to Apparate straight to The Burrow after her shower. Mrs Weasley’s prattling would take her mind off missing Harry, and she might be able to wheedle her favourite strawberry tart out of her mum to boot.
Gwenog gave her a nod and turned to go. “Oh, and Weasley,” she called out as she strode towards the exit, “belated happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Gwenog!”
Hoisting her broom over one shoulder, Ginny headed for the locker rooms, where she sat down and unrolled the first of several birthday greetings. George, Ron and Hermione, her parents and even Bill and Fleur, had sent their felicitations. There was also an unusual-looking one from Luna (it appeared to have been written on some kind of large leaf), all the way from Peru, where she, together with her boyfriend, Rolf Scamander, was observing the migration patterns of South American Glumbumbles. Ginny shook her head in amusement as she read Luna’s rather stern warnings not to let the Glumbumbles hover about her head during her special day, as they had been observed to cause the Loser’s Lurgy.
Smiling fondly at Luna’s eccentricities, Ginny reached for the last bit of parchment, her smile becoming wider when she recognized the spiky handwriting done in scarlet ink.
Dear Ginny,
Happy birthday! I’m sorry to have missed greeting you personally. Next time Robards asks me to take on an assignment on your special day, perhaps you can help this poor, overworked Auror and just threaten my boss with a Bat Bogey if he so much as thinks of separating us on your birthday, or mine, or any major holiday, for that matter.
Anyway, I have a bit of good news - I’ll be home by Friday night! I can’t wait to see you.
I love you,
Your Harry
PS Just kidding about Robards, of course. Please don’t do anything to the man. He has a nasty ulcer and will probably be brought straight to St Mungo’s if you so much as frown at him.
Ginny looked at her watch in alarm. Today was Friday, and it was almost seven! Harry must have been at their place ages ago. Ginny cast a few freshening Charms on herself - she’d share a long, luxurious shower later on with Harry - hurriedly grabbed her kit and with her destination firmly fixed in mind, Apparated straight into their bedroom.
“Harry!” She dropped her bag onto the bed, delightedly taking note of the red Auror’s cloak draped across the back of a chair. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the living room, Ginny,” a deep voice called out.
Ginny freed her hair from its ponytail and combed her hands through it. Harry always did like it hanging loose. “I hope you’re ready for me, love,” she sang out as she sauntered out of the bedroom, “as I am in desperate need of a good shag-”
She stopped in horror at the sight that met her.
Her family, plus a few friends, were staring back at her in varying degrees of shock. Except for George, who was clutching his stomach, laughing fit to burst, and Ron, who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head and moaning in despair.
“Er, happy birthday?”
Ginny’s head whipped around to stare at Harry, who was smiling weakly at her, the tips of his ears burning red. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he came quickly to her side and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered contritely, putting an arm around her and turning her away from the crowd. “I wanted to give you a surprise birthday party to make up for not being here on your actual birthday, but I didn’t reckon on having you announce that…”
Behind them, nervous laughter broke out as a dull thwack indicated that Angelina (or Hermione) had swatted George (or Ron) to stop him from making more of a scene than he already had.
Harry looked so apologetic that Ginny didn’t have it in her to remain angry with him. And in any case, she wasn’t really mad - she was unbelievably mortified and embarrassed that she had blurted out how randy she was to her parents, of all people.
“It’s all right, Harry.” She took a deep breath, absently noting that there were drinks and plates of food spread out on the dining table. She smiled, appreciating the effort he had obviously made. “I do expect you to make it up to me, however,” she murmured, raising an eyebrow at him and winding her arms around his waist.
“Oh, I will,” he replied, giving her a quick squeeze. He grinned and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “You just wait until I give you your real birthday gift.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said archly, running a hand down his chest in a seductive manner, giggling at the strangled groan that emanated from Harry’s throat. “I really missed you, Harry,” she purred, her fingers tracing little patterns on his flat stomach.
“Minx,” he growled in reply, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses.
“Hey, hey!” shouted George cheerily. “Hands where we can see ‘em, Potter!”
Sighing in exasperation, Ginny gave Harry one last lingering kiss before she turned to face her guests. Harry moved to the kitchen, presumably to get more refreshments, but more likely to give himself time to get his hormones under control.
“Hey, everyone,” she said, ignoring the knowing smirks on her brothers’ faces. “Thanks for coming.”
“I bet that’s not the only thing coming later,” said George, sotto voce, earning him another slap on the back of the head from Angelina.
Her parents came forward. “Happy birthday, pet,” her father said, engulfing her in a hug.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Her mother was next. “Happy birthday, my dear.” To Ginny’s shock, she didn’t say anything else. Seeing her puzzled expression, Mrs Weasley winked. “You’re not the only one who’s felt a little amorous after her boyfriend’s been away for some time.” She looked dotingly at her husband, whose cheeks turned pink even as he smiled indulgently at her. “Why, I remember when Arthur came back after a mission for the Order, he and I would-”
“Okay, way too much information, Mum,” said Ginny, raising her hands in protest and laughing. “I think I’ll go mingle now.”
Leaving her parents beaming besottedly at each other, Ginny made her way to greet the rest of her guests. She kissed Bill on the cheek, patted Fleur’s baby bump and shook hands with Percy and Audrey. She stopped to chat with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbot, who had just recently begun dating. Hermione and Ron joined them, and Luna soon drifted in to complete their little group.
“Happy birthday, Ginny,” said Luna, handing her a silver-coloured pouch that smelled faintly of musk. “Rolf’s sorry he couldn’t be here, but he had to attend an emergency meeting of the Sacred Knights of the Triple-Breasted Blibbering Humdinger. He hopes you like our present, though.” She blinked owlishly at them. “We picked it up when we were passing through India.”
“Er, Luna, is that what I think it is?” Neville asked hesitantly, pointing to the object that Ginny was holding up for closer inspection. She began laughing even as Hermione and Hannah gave startled gasps.
Ron’s eyes were bulging. “Yeah, is that a-?”
“Why yes. It’s a mood candle,” answered Luna serenely. “Isn’t it clever how it’s shaped like a man’s-”
“Luna!” Hermione shrieked while Hannah erupted into giggles and Ron and Neville began coughing loudly.
“It’s brilliant,” declared Ginny, smiling at her friend as she tucked the candle back into the pouch. “Thanks, Luna.”
“You’re quite welcome,” said Luna. “I hope you and Harry put it to good use. It’s made of ambergris,” she nodded at the packet, “and it will keep for a long time if you store it properly, so you’ll have loads of lovely nights with Harry, although if you want to use it in the morning when you’re feeling randy, you can, like Rolf and I do-”
“Thank you, Luna!” Ron interrupted her loudly, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “We really don’t want to hear anymore about Ginny and Harry’s sex lives, or yours and Rolf’s too, for that matter,” he added in a disgruntled undertone.
“Aw, why not?” said George from behind them, Angelina in tow and looking apologetic at her boyfriend’s shenanigans. “We already know that Ginny’s quite randy right now, and from that little display a while ago, I have a fair notion on how Harry’s feeling too.” He looked smugly at Harry, who had just come out of the tiny kitchen, levitating a case of butterbeers in front of him. “Isn’t that right, mate?”
“Pay no attention to him, Harry.” Ginny glared at her brother. “I’ll deal with him later.” She looked at Angelina. “That is, if you don’t mind, Angie.”
The former Gryffindor Chaser waved her hand in a negligent manner. “Be my guest.”
“I’m hurt, luv,” George declared. “I was merely commenting on how healthy Harry and Ginny’s love life seems to be, and this is the thanks I get?” He clutched at his chest dramatically. “I’m deeply, deeply hurt,” he said, his expression one of deep sorrow. “Wounded, even.”
“I’ll show you deeply hurt,” muttered Ginny, narrowing her eyes at George. Harry placed a calming arm around her waist and took a sip of his butterbeer.
“I don’t know, Ginny,” he mused out loud. “Perhaps George is trying to live vicariously through us? No offence, Angelina,” he added apologetically.
Angelina shrugged one slim shoulder. “None taken. Sadly,” she gave a now red-faced George a critical once-over, her gaze lingering critically on his lower half, “things have been rather lacklustre all around as of late.”
“What the hell? Angelina!” roared George, as everyone laughed appreciatively. Ginny smirked triumphantly at her brother and bestowed an extravagant kiss on a grinning Harry.
The rest of night passed with lots of laughter and teasing banter. Ginny unwrapped more presents, most of them Quidditch-related items, such as new Chaser gloves from Neville and Hannah, a Broomstick Servicing Kit from Bill and Fleur, and a year’s subscription to Which Broomstick? from Hermione and Ron. She was a bit disappointed when Harry didn’t give her anything, but she remembered the promise he had made earlier on, and found herself suddenly wishing that - grateful though she may be that they had gone out of their way to celebrate her birthday with her - the lot of them would go home so she could finally have some much-needed alone time with her boyfriend.
Just as she was going to take Hermione aside and implore her to help begin gently shoving people towards the Floo, Harry stood up from the dinner table and motioned for silence.
“Thanks again, everyone, for coming,” he said, sounding a bit nervous. “There’s one last thing before we call it a night-”
“You sure you and Ginny’ll be calling it a night, Harry?” George called out, unfazed by the chorus of loud groans that his comment brought about.
“Shut it,” Ginny warned him.
“Er,” said Harry, his train of thought obviously having been derailed. “You see, I wanted to - that is, what I meant to do was -”
“Go on, dear,” said Mrs Weasley, shooting a reprimanding glare at George.
Harry cleared his throat again. “Happy birthday, Ginny. I love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you too, Harry,” answered Ginny, smiling affectionately at him.
“You mean the world to me,” he continued. “I can’t really imagine my life without you - and… erm… did I mention that I love you?”
“Twice,” Bill observed, sounding amused. Fleur slapped his arm in rebuke.
Harry smiled sheepishly, took out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it. “Anyway, I really do, and well… marry me?” he asked, looking hopefully at her.
Ginny stared down at the beautiful platinum engagement ring twinkling up at her, only vaguely registering that the entire room had gone silent as everyone waited for her reply. Wasn’t it just a few hours ago that she was wondering how she would react if Harry ever proposed? Now she knew the answer. She looked back up and beamed. “Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Mrs Weasley, clutching her husband’s arm in excitement. “Arthur! Did you hear that?”
“Now, Molly, you need to stop hyperventilating,” admonished Mr Weasley, wincing as he tried to extricate himself from his wife’s death grip. “You know what happened the last time…”
Grinning from ear to ear, Harry slipped the ring on Ginny’s finger. She launched herself at him and kissed him passionately, not minding the raucous hoots and wolf-whistles that filled the room, and the rather theatrical sobbing coming from Mrs Weasley and Hermione.
When they broke apart, Ginny leaned in to whisper, “I hope you know how happy you’ve made me.”
“I’m quite overjoyed myself,” he whispered back, smiling.
“Good, but if you manage to make all these people disappear in the next few seconds,” she said, winking slyly at him, “I’ll take your happiness to new heights, if you get my drift.”
Harry’s eyes widened, then he abruptly turned around, only to be accosted by the Weasley men and Neville, who all gave him hearty slaps on the back and shook his hand repeatedly.
Ginny didn’t fare any better, as a squealing Mrs Weasley threw her arms around her and all the girls grabbed her hand, babbling animatedly to each other as they admired her new engagement ring.
Harry’s gaze met Ginny’s over the general chaos, and he shrugged helplessly at her. Ginny rolled her eyes, retrieved her hand (with some effort) from Fleur and issued a piercing whistle.
She waved cheerfully when they all turned to look at her. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but good night, everyone.”
“What if we don’t want to leave yet?” drawled George. “The night’s still young!”
“You’re welcome to stay,” retorted Ginny, “but I’m planning to ravish my new fiancé within the next few minutes, so if you want a free show, then…”
“Good night!” squawked Ron, dragging a protesting George and pushing him into the Floo headfirst. Laughing and offering their well-wishes once again - Luna had some additional helpful tips on how to make the most out of her gift; Harry’s ears burned red when Luna demonstrated to Ginny a particularly interesting carved detail of the aphrodisiac candle - the rest of the guests disappeared into the fireplace.
When the final guest had gone, Ginny turned to Harry and twined her arms around his neck. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“Me too,” he murmured, nuzzling her behind the ear. He pulled back and looked at her. “Thank you, Ginny,” he said softly, “for saying yes.”
“As if I would say anything else, Harry. And I should be thanking you.” She gazed at her engagement ring in awe. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
“Your birthday celebration isn’t over yet, you know.”
“Ooh, do I have another present I haven’t unwrapped yet?” she asked cheekily, tugging on the waistband of his trousers. “Saved the best for last, have you?”
“Well, you know me…” he said, smirking at her.
“All right, then, and while we’re at it, let’s go see if that candle of Luna’s really works, shall we?”
*end*
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Words: 3152
Summary: Despite some major setbacks, Ginny manages to have a rather brilliant birthday after all.
A/N: Belated Happy Birthday to hgrhfan35! Sorry this took so long, C, but I hope you like it. ☺
Birthday Surprises
Ginny Weasley was not having a good day.
Scratch that - she was not having a good week.
It was bad enough that she had spent the days leading up to her twentieth birthday in virtual lockdown in some bloody training camp in Holyhead with the rest of the Harpies, thus making her miss some potentially hot celebratory sex with her boyfriend, but to make things worse, said boyfriend had Owled to regretfully tell her that he would be disappearing for a week in the wilds of Northumbria, rounding up some idiot Dark wizards who didn’t have enough sense to give up the minute they found out that their arses were about to get kicked by THE Harry Potter.
There went the post-birthday sex too, damn it, and she had been so looking forward to re-enacting that very interesting love scene she had read in The Convivial and Capricious Capers of Miss Cornelia Capricorn, the latest Fifi LaFolle novella. (Although she was still a bit sceptical at the prospect of hanging upside down for that prolonged a time - wouldn’t anyone lose consciousness long before anything interesting happened?)
So here she was, working out her frustrations the best way she knew how - by flying like a madwoman. And though training had officially ended hours ago, and they had been told that they needn’t come back until next weekend, Ginny still couldn’t make herself come down from the air and face the reality that she would be going home to the empty flat she shared with Harry. She supposed she could go to The Burrow, except her mum would surely make a fuss and drop not too subtle hints that it was high time that her only daughter get married and contribute to the ongoing expansion of the Weasley family tree.
Ginny chewed on her lip, frowning. While she and Harry had talked about having children, the conversations were nebulous and hypothetical - and usually came about right after they had just had wild monkey sex and they couldn’t, for the life of them, remember if they had cast a proper Contraceptive Charm.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Harry was planning on asking her to marry him anytime soon. And if he ever did actually get around to proposing, would she agree to be his wife? Not that she was even thinking of turning him down, but they were still young and only beginning their respective careers. Harry was a rising star in the Auror corps, and her Quidditch career had only really begun to take off last year.
Although truth be told, the thought of having Harry’s babies made Ginny’s insides feel all warm and fluttery…
“Weasley!”
Ginny looked down to see Gwenog Jones waving at her. She guided her broom towards the ground and landed in front of her Captain.
“Why are you still here?” the dark-skinned witch asked brusquely.
Ginny shrugged. “Lost track of time, I suppose.”
“I see.” Gwenog eyed her shrewdly. “Anyway, these came for you a couple of days back. I couldn’t give them as we had a no correspondence rule in force during that time, if you recall, and I’m sorry I forgot to give them to you at the end of practice.” She handed Ginny a bunch of rolled-up parchment. “Get out of here, Weasley. That’s an order. Go home and give my regards to your family and that boyfriend of yours.”
“When I see him, I will,” said Ginny. I wonder when that will be, she added silently. Once again, the prospect of a cold, empty flat loomed, and she decided to Apparate straight to The Burrow after her shower. Mrs Weasley’s prattling would take her mind off missing Harry, and she might be able to wheedle her favourite strawberry tart out of her mum to boot.
Gwenog gave her a nod and turned to go. “Oh, and Weasley,” she called out as she strode towards the exit, “belated happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Gwenog!”
Hoisting her broom over one shoulder, Ginny headed for the locker rooms, where she sat down and unrolled the first of several birthday greetings. George, Ron and Hermione, her parents and even Bill and Fleur, had sent their felicitations. There was also an unusual-looking one from Luna (it appeared to have been written on some kind of large leaf), all the way from Peru, where she, together with her boyfriend, Rolf Scamander, was observing the migration patterns of South American Glumbumbles. Ginny shook her head in amusement as she read Luna’s rather stern warnings not to let the Glumbumbles hover about her head during her special day, as they had been observed to cause the Loser’s Lurgy.
Smiling fondly at Luna’s eccentricities, Ginny reached for the last bit of parchment, her smile becoming wider when she recognized the spiky handwriting done in scarlet ink.
Dear Ginny,
Happy birthday! I’m sorry to have missed greeting you personally. Next time Robards asks me to take on an assignment on your special day, perhaps you can help this poor, overworked Auror and just threaten my boss with a Bat Bogey if he so much as thinks of separating us on your birthday, or mine, or any major holiday, for that matter.
Anyway, I have a bit of good news - I’ll be home by Friday night! I can’t wait to see you.
I love you,
Your Harry
PS Just kidding about Robards, of course. Please don’t do anything to the man. He has a nasty ulcer and will probably be brought straight to St Mungo’s if you so much as frown at him.
Ginny looked at her watch in alarm. Today was Friday, and it was almost seven! Harry must have been at their place ages ago. Ginny cast a few freshening Charms on herself - she’d share a long, luxurious shower later on with Harry - hurriedly grabbed her kit and with her destination firmly fixed in mind, Apparated straight into their bedroom.
“Harry!” She dropped her bag onto the bed, delightedly taking note of the red Auror’s cloak draped across the back of a chair. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the living room, Ginny,” a deep voice called out.
Ginny freed her hair from its ponytail and combed her hands through it. Harry always did like it hanging loose. “I hope you’re ready for me, love,” she sang out as she sauntered out of the bedroom, “as I am in desperate need of a good shag-”
She stopped in horror at the sight that met her.
Her family, plus a few friends, were staring back at her in varying degrees of shock. Except for George, who was clutching his stomach, laughing fit to burst, and Ron, who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head and moaning in despair.
“Er, happy birthday?”
Ginny’s head whipped around to stare at Harry, who was smiling weakly at her, the tips of his ears burning red. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he came quickly to her side and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered contritely, putting an arm around her and turning her away from the crowd. “I wanted to give you a surprise birthday party to make up for not being here on your actual birthday, but I didn’t reckon on having you announce that…”
Behind them, nervous laughter broke out as a dull thwack indicated that Angelina (or Hermione) had swatted George (or Ron) to stop him from making more of a scene than he already had.
Harry looked so apologetic that Ginny didn’t have it in her to remain angry with him. And in any case, she wasn’t really mad - she was unbelievably mortified and embarrassed that she had blurted out how randy she was to her parents, of all people.
“It’s all right, Harry.” She took a deep breath, absently noting that there were drinks and plates of food spread out on the dining table. She smiled, appreciating the effort he had obviously made. “I do expect you to make it up to me, however,” she murmured, raising an eyebrow at him and winding her arms around his waist.
“Oh, I will,” he replied, giving her a quick squeeze. He grinned and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “You just wait until I give you your real birthday gift.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said archly, running a hand down his chest in a seductive manner, giggling at the strangled groan that emanated from Harry’s throat. “I really missed you, Harry,” she purred, her fingers tracing little patterns on his flat stomach.
“Minx,” he growled in reply, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses.
“Hey, hey!” shouted George cheerily. “Hands where we can see ‘em, Potter!”
Sighing in exasperation, Ginny gave Harry one last lingering kiss before she turned to face her guests. Harry moved to the kitchen, presumably to get more refreshments, but more likely to give himself time to get his hormones under control.
“Hey, everyone,” she said, ignoring the knowing smirks on her brothers’ faces. “Thanks for coming.”
“I bet that’s not the only thing coming later,” said George, sotto voce, earning him another slap on the back of the head from Angelina.
Her parents came forward. “Happy birthday, pet,” her father said, engulfing her in a hug.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Her mother was next. “Happy birthday, my dear.” To Ginny’s shock, she didn’t say anything else. Seeing her puzzled expression, Mrs Weasley winked. “You’re not the only one who’s felt a little amorous after her boyfriend’s been away for some time.” She looked dotingly at her husband, whose cheeks turned pink even as he smiled indulgently at her. “Why, I remember when Arthur came back after a mission for the Order, he and I would-”
“Okay, way too much information, Mum,” said Ginny, raising her hands in protest and laughing. “I think I’ll go mingle now.”
Leaving her parents beaming besottedly at each other, Ginny made her way to greet the rest of her guests. She kissed Bill on the cheek, patted Fleur’s baby bump and shook hands with Percy and Audrey. She stopped to chat with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbot, who had just recently begun dating. Hermione and Ron joined them, and Luna soon drifted in to complete their little group.
“Happy birthday, Ginny,” said Luna, handing her a silver-coloured pouch that smelled faintly of musk. “Rolf’s sorry he couldn’t be here, but he had to attend an emergency meeting of the Sacred Knights of the Triple-Breasted Blibbering Humdinger. He hopes you like our present, though.” She blinked owlishly at them. “We picked it up when we were passing through India.”
“Er, Luna, is that what I think it is?” Neville asked hesitantly, pointing to the object that Ginny was holding up for closer inspection. She began laughing even as Hermione and Hannah gave startled gasps.
Ron’s eyes were bulging. “Yeah, is that a-?”
“Why yes. It’s a mood candle,” answered Luna serenely. “Isn’t it clever how it’s shaped like a man’s-”
“Luna!” Hermione shrieked while Hannah erupted into giggles and Ron and Neville began coughing loudly.
“It’s brilliant,” declared Ginny, smiling at her friend as she tucked the candle back into the pouch. “Thanks, Luna.”
“You’re quite welcome,” said Luna. “I hope you and Harry put it to good use. It’s made of ambergris,” she nodded at the packet, “and it will keep for a long time if you store it properly, so you’ll have loads of lovely nights with Harry, although if you want to use it in the morning when you’re feeling randy, you can, like Rolf and I do-”
“Thank you, Luna!” Ron interrupted her loudly, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “We really don’t want to hear anymore about Ginny and Harry’s sex lives, or yours and Rolf’s too, for that matter,” he added in a disgruntled undertone.
“Aw, why not?” said George from behind them, Angelina in tow and looking apologetic at her boyfriend’s shenanigans. “We already know that Ginny’s quite randy right now, and from that little display a while ago, I have a fair notion on how Harry’s feeling too.” He looked smugly at Harry, who had just come out of the tiny kitchen, levitating a case of butterbeers in front of him. “Isn’t that right, mate?”
“Pay no attention to him, Harry.” Ginny glared at her brother. “I’ll deal with him later.” She looked at Angelina. “That is, if you don’t mind, Angie.”
The former Gryffindor Chaser waved her hand in a negligent manner. “Be my guest.”
“I’m hurt, luv,” George declared. “I was merely commenting on how healthy Harry and Ginny’s love life seems to be, and this is the thanks I get?” He clutched at his chest dramatically. “I’m deeply, deeply hurt,” he said, his expression one of deep sorrow. “Wounded, even.”
“I’ll show you deeply hurt,” muttered Ginny, narrowing her eyes at George. Harry placed a calming arm around her waist and took a sip of his butterbeer.
“I don’t know, Ginny,” he mused out loud. “Perhaps George is trying to live vicariously through us? No offence, Angelina,” he added apologetically.
Angelina shrugged one slim shoulder. “None taken. Sadly,” she gave a now red-faced George a critical once-over, her gaze lingering critically on his lower half, “things have been rather lacklustre all around as of late.”
“What the hell? Angelina!” roared George, as everyone laughed appreciatively. Ginny smirked triumphantly at her brother and bestowed an extravagant kiss on a grinning Harry.
The rest of night passed with lots of laughter and teasing banter. Ginny unwrapped more presents, most of them Quidditch-related items, such as new Chaser gloves from Neville and Hannah, a Broomstick Servicing Kit from Bill and Fleur, and a year’s subscription to Which Broomstick? from Hermione and Ron. She was a bit disappointed when Harry didn’t give her anything, but she remembered the promise he had made earlier on, and found herself suddenly wishing that - grateful though she may be that they had gone out of their way to celebrate her birthday with her - the lot of them would go home so she could finally have some much-needed alone time with her boyfriend.
Just as she was going to take Hermione aside and implore her to help begin gently shoving people towards the Floo, Harry stood up from the dinner table and motioned for silence.
“Thanks again, everyone, for coming,” he said, sounding a bit nervous. “There’s one last thing before we call it a night-”
“You sure you and Ginny’ll be calling it a night, Harry?” George called out, unfazed by the chorus of loud groans that his comment brought about.
“Shut it,” Ginny warned him.
“Er,” said Harry, his train of thought obviously having been derailed. “You see, I wanted to - that is, what I meant to do was -”
“Go on, dear,” said Mrs Weasley, shooting a reprimanding glare at George.
Harry cleared his throat again. “Happy birthday, Ginny. I love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you too, Harry,” answered Ginny, smiling affectionately at him.
“You mean the world to me,” he continued. “I can’t really imagine my life without you - and… erm… did I mention that I love you?”
“Twice,” Bill observed, sounding amused. Fleur slapped his arm in rebuke.
Harry smiled sheepishly, took out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it. “Anyway, I really do, and well… marry me?” he asked, looking hopefully at her.
Ginny stared down at the beautiful platinum engagement ring twinkling up at her, only vaguely registering that the entire room had gone silent as everyone waited for her reply. Wasn’t it just a few hours ago that she was wondering how she would react if Harry ever proposed? Now she knew the answer. She looked back up and beamed. “Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Mrs Weasley, clutching her husband’s arm in excitement. “Arthur! Did you hear that?”
“Now, Molly, you need to stop hyperventilating,” admonished Mr Weasley, wincing as he tried to extricate himself from his wife’s death grip. “You know what happened the last time…”
Grinning from ear to ear, Harry slipped the ring on Ginny’s finger. She launched herself at him and kissed him passionately, not minding the raucous hoots and wolf-whistles that filled the room, and the rather theatrical sobbing coming from Mrs Weasley and Hermione.
When they broke apart, Ginny leaned in to whisper, “I hope you know how happy you’ve made me.”
“I’m quite overjoyed myself,” he whispered back, smiling.
“Good, but if you manage to make all these people disappear in the next few seconds,” she said, winking slyly at him, “I’ll take your happiness to new heights, if you get my drift.”
Harry’s eyes widened, then he abruptly turned around, only to be accosted by the Weasley men and Neville, who all gave him hearty slaps on the back and shook his hand repeatedly.
Ginny didn’t fare any better, as a squealing Mrs Weasley threw her arms around her and all the girls grabbed her hand, babbling animatedly to each other as they admired her new engagement ring.
Harry’s gaze met Ginny’s over the general chaos, and he shrugged helplessly at her. Ginny rolled her eyes, retrieved her hand (with some effort) from Fleur and issued a piercing whistle.
She waved cheerfully when they all turned to look at her. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but good night, everyone.”
“What if we don’t want to leave yet?” drawled George. “The night’s still young!”
“You’re welcome to stay,” retorted Ginny, “but I’m planning to ravish my new fiancé within the next few minutes, so if you want a free show, then…”
“Good night!” squawked Ron, dragging a protesting George and pushing him into the Floo headfirst. Laughing and offering their well-wishes once again - Luna had some additional helpful tips on how to make the most out of her gift; Harry’s ears burned red when Luna demonstrated to Ginny a particularly interesting carved detail of the aphrodisiac candle - the rest of the guests disappeared into the fireplace.
When the final guest had gone, Ginny turned to Harry and twined her arms around his neck. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“Me too,” he murmured, nuzzling her behind the ear. He pulled back and looked at her. “Thank you, Ginny,” he said softly, “for saying yes.”
“As if I would say anything else, Harry. And I should be thanking you.” She gazed at her engagement ring in awe. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
“Your birthday celebration isn’t over yet, you know.”
“Ooh, do I have another present I haven’t unwrapped yet?” she asked cheekily, tugging on the waistband of his trousers. “Saved the best for last, have you?”
“Well, you know me…” he said, smirking at her.
“All right, then, and while we’re at it, let’s go see if that candle of Luna’s really works, shall we?”
*end*