Wicked
The cheering is abruptly muffled, as the portrait of the Fat Lady swings shut behind them. Standing in the empty hallway outside Gryffindor Tower, Harry turns to Ginny and grins.
“What?” she asks, grinning in turn as he takes her hand in his own and begins tugging her down the stairs.
“So that’s what a real kiss is like,” he says, and she blushes. Turning suddenly, he pulls her into another fierce kiss, not caring that they’re drawing a number of stares and whispers.
Long moments later, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to hers. “Wicked,” he breathes.
Addicted
Ginny made a face as she passed the other couple.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, although he couldn’t help but laugh at her expression.
“Did you hear what he just said?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “‘Oh baby, I’m so addicted to you’?”
“What’s so bad about that?” he replied with a frown.
“You can’t be serious.”
He ducked into an empty corridor and drew her into his arms. “Well,” he murmured, “what if I said that I was addicted to you?”
“Are you?” she asked, eyes sliding shut as he kissed her lingeringly.
“Let me show you just how much.”