Chapter 9

A moment of reverence, please, for the efforts of my betas, KeladryLupin & LariLee, who make it more readable, and for my Brit-Picker, MagicAlly, who makes it less Yank-ish!

These characters and this entire Potterverse are the property of the incomparable JKR.

Thou are not lovelier than lilacs, -- no,

Edna St. Vincent Millay

The young ladies of Grimmauld Place were in the sitting room, poring excitedly over one of the new wedding magazines that had popped up, practically overnight, in the wake of the passing of the Marriage Act. At the centre of the excited gaggle were Cho Chang and Katie Bell, both of whom had accepted offers and had their engagements announced in the last week. The other girls stood behind the loveseat shared by the brides-to-be and gazed at the wedding finery.

"Oh, I like that one!" Luna Lovegood exclaimed, pointing over Cho's shoulder at a quirky-looking wedding dress, something of a cross between the robe of an ancient Grecian priestess and the kaftan of a 1960's Muggle hippie.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged tight-lipped, amused looks over Luna's head as Cho diplomatically said, "That one would be perfect for you, Luna. Do you think Seamus would like it?"

Katie reached over and turned the page to look at the next picture. "Not Seamus, silly – Draco."

Skye, seeing the look of discomfort on Luna's face, reached over Katie's shoulder and ran her finger down the belled skirt of another simpering model. "That one is really old-fashioned looking," she said softly. "It looks like something from a storybook."

The model, prodded by Cho's finger, turned so the girls could see the back of the dress. Alicia Spinnet sat down on Katie's other side and smiled over her shoulder at Skye. "Harry would love you in that," she said. "Of course, Harry would love you in anything – he acts as if he's forgotten how to talk every time he sees you."

Professor McGonagall poked her head into the room. "All right, girls, all of you who wish to come along to Madam Malkin's had best get your things – we're leaving directly!"

The newly engaged girls leapt up and hurried off to get ready to go shopping for wedding robes, chattering with their friends as they went.

Bill Weasley closed the door of his flat behind him and escaped onto the street in Diagon Alley with a sigh of relief.

It was not that he disliked Percy; it was just that he had lived away from home for so long that he had forgotten what a sanctimoniously boring little berk Perce could be.

Bill had left England for a time, soon after his break-up with Fleur Delacour, and gone on assignment to work in Egypt on behalf of his employer, Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Percy Weasley had been appointed to the recently enlarged Diplomatic Corps within the Ministry of Magic, and was just returned from his latest post at the Salem Witches' Institute in America, where he had served as a junior British liaison. Both young men had recently returned to England, each on leaves of absence from their jobs so that they might do their duty and find wives.

Bill's first stop after leaving Egypt was the Burrow, to allow his mum to fuss over and feed him. What he had not planned on was finding Percy sitting on the other side of the dinner table, that first night.

"But it's just perfect!" Molly Weasley had exclaimed. "Percy let his flat go when he left for America, but you've kept yours, Bill – Percy can stay with you in London so that you can go to the parties together and be company for one another!"

Bill's father had given him a sympathetic look, but no support, so Bill now found himself escaping from his own home for a bit of relief from his brother. His mum was unpacking Percy's things and helping him get settled in the flat; Bill announced his need for some basic supplies from the shops and thankfully slipped out into the street.

His rooms were located in one of the four buildings on Diagon Alley given over to rental flats. Each of the buildings blended perfectly into the background of the Wizarding shopping district, though each was magically augmented within, so that far more units than one might imagine were available to let. There was nothing special about his three-room flat, other than the fact that he did not have to share it with six siblings.

Dear Merlin, how he was dreading the next five months. He was still smarting from his near-miss with Fleur Delacour, if the truth were known. He had fallen for her face and her figure, and then had become disastrously intimate with her temper. His desire for her was overshadowed by the revulsion he experienced when he saw her in full-fishwife mode. It was a blow to him, having to give up the dream of having such a dazzling wife. In the normal course of things, he would have had time to get over his disappointment before naturally entering the dating world again. But now, he was forced to wife shop long before he was ready. His contemporaries were fortunate, when compared to him; they had only to fear the Office of Last Resort – Bill had to find himself a wife before Molly Weasley did it for him.

Bill began his desultory stroll down Diagon Alley, pausing to peer into windows as he went. Here was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions; she had recently expanded her shop to include a separate section just for wedding robes and accessories. He was gazing, a bit nonplussed, at the sappy look on the face of the "groom" on one knee before the "bride" in the advert in the window of the wedding shop, when he saw the sight that momentarily deprived him of breath.

His vantage point on the sidewalk allowed him to see the dais before the huge triple mirror that dominated the middle of the shop. Standing on that dais, admiring herself in the glass, was the most exquisite girl he had ever seen. Oh, yes, he had a weakness for beauty in a woman – how else would he have ended up with a cold fish like Fleur Delacour? – but this piece of perfection put Fleur's austere beauty firmly in the shade. The angel before him had shining golden hair, a cupid's bow of a mouth, and the sweetest expression on her lovely face. Seeing her with the traditional wedding wreath in her hair, his heart lurched within his chest. Who was the lucky sod who would marry this girl? Why hadn't he met her first?

Bill's mouth-gaping admiration was interrupted as his angel was joined at the mirror by a bevy of other girls, most of whom Bill recognized as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Quickly, he stepped back from the window, not wishing to be seen by the young women. Now he was really curious. If the goddess in the wedding wreath was an intimate of all those other girls, why had he never seen her before? How could the bloody fates be so cruel?

Shaking himself from his reverie, Bill turned around and walked back to his flat, completely forgetting to go to the shops for bread and milk.

Ginny was delighted when her mum Flooed that she was bringing her brothers over to visit, even if it meant she was to miss out on the Diagon Alley trip.

Ginny greeted her family members effusively and got them settled in the sitting room with tea and cakes.

"Well, it is only to be expected in these times," Molly Weasley said, replacing her teacup in its saucer. "The married men will just have to take up the slack for a time while the bachelors get themselves settled. Employers are being quite understanding about it, really."

Bill sat next to Ginny on the sofa, one long leg crossed over the other, his golden fang earring dangling beneath his long red hair. "Except, of course, for the men who work for themselves; they just have to put in overtime looking for wives."

Ginny snorted and punched him in the arm. "Stop it; you're making me breathe tea!"

Molly sent an admonishing glance Bill's way. "Just look at Fred and George! They run their own business, but they were able to take time out to court their ladies." Molly looked a bit smug. "That's half of you lot sorted out; now I just have to find someone for Bill, Percy, and Ronald."

Ginny set her teacup down on the tea tray with a china-rattling clatter. "What about me, Mum?" she demanded hotly.

Molly pinned her daughter with a quelling look. "You, young lady, have another full year of school before you have to settle down. We'll be looking for someone for you this time, next summer."

Ginny had opened her mouth to argue when Percy spoke up. "Gin, where's Hermione? Mum said she's staying here with you?"

"She's upstairs, I think, Percy. Why?"

Percy pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and flicked an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his conservatively tailored robes. "I just wanted to say hello. One would not wish to be backwards in any proper attention one should pay to one's friends."

The sound of an arrival from downstairs distracted them for a moment; presently, Tonks came into the room.

"Winky said you were here! Welcome back!"

Though Tonks' words applied to both of the Weasley brothers currently in the room, she spoke only to Bill, who stood upon her entrance and laughingly received her hug.

"Thanks, Tonks. It's good to be home again."

Bill gave Tonks' shoulder a friendly squeeze before he resumed his seat next to Ginny; Molly watched this exchange with a speculative expression. Percy cleared his throat.

"Hello, Nymphadora. It is good to see you looking well! You're engaged to Remus Lupin, if I remember correctly." Percy, with all the perspicacity that had earned him such accolades in the Diplomatic Corps, completely failed to see the head-shakings of his family members. "When is the happy day?"

Tonks took a chair and looked Percy up and down as if he were a giraffe that had wandered into the parlour.

"You know, Perce, I still hate being called 'Nymphadora.'" Turning her shoulder resolutely to his affronted face, Tonks addressed Molly. "What's this I hear about Charlie?"

"He's engaged to a Romanian girl! Her name is Draguta Cristescu; she's a dragon-keeper-in-training." Molly reached into her handbag and pulled out a calendar. "They will be married in November in Romania."

"And the twins are marrying the Patil girls?" Tonks continued.

"A double wedding in October," Molly said, flipping the calendar pages.

"Molly, you are going to be one busy witch," Tonks said, slanting a smile at Ginny, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Tonks, I have quite a bit to do – and I am going to need cooperation if I'm to get it all done on time." She glared at her two sons, who managed to be looking elsewhere as she said this.

There was a rustle in the doorway. "Good morning, Ginny. May we meet your mother?"

Sophronia Snape stood in the doorway with Stormy. Ginny hopped up and went to take Sophronia's hand and lead her in to Molly.

"Mum, this is Sophronia Snape, Professor Snape's stepmother. And this is her youngest daughter, Stormy."

Molly shook Sophronia's hand and smiled at Stormy. "You're a Prewett too, aren't you?" she inquired of Sophronia.

"Our family is part of the Wiltshire branch," Sophronia agreed softly. "I think you left school the same year I began, so we missed one another at Hogwarts."

Ginny introduced her brothers, and Sophronia sat down next to Molly, while Stormy sidled up close to Bill.

"You look more like Ron than you do Fred," she said conversationally.

Bill smiled at the little girl in a way that disturbed the peace of most older females. "Now, Miss Snape, surely you think I'm more handsome than either of those two?" he teased.

Percy interrupted. "Ginny, perhaps you could invite Hermione down to join us for a cup of tea?"

Stormy spoke up then. "Hermione went to Diagon Alley to shop for wedding robes," she explained.

"What?"

Percy spoke so sharply that all eyes in the room were focused on him.

Sophronia interceded quietly at this point. "Stormy meant to say that Hermione went shopping with Katie and Cho, who are buying their wedding robes."

Molly said, "Who are they going to marry?" She smiled at Sophronia. "I keep thinking I have my hands full trying to marry off six sons in six months, but you have all of the Order girls, as well as your own daughters and yourself! That is a much harder job than mine."

Sophronia smiled her gentle smile. "Cho is going to marry Roger Davies and Katie has accepted an offer from Eddie Carmichael."

The doorbell chimed again; Stormy raced to the top of the stairs to see who had arrived, and her joyfully squealed greeting was clearly heard in the sitting room.

"It looks like your missing child has been found, Mum," Bill said with a smile.

Harry and Ron came into the room, each holding one of Stormy's hands. Molly turned on her youngest son with a trace of indignation.

"I suppose you know I came to see you at Phoenix House this morning!" she exclaimed, accepting Ron's salute to her cheek before smiling at Harry.

"Professor Lupin told us you'd been by, Mum," Ron said, receiving Bill's punch on the shoulder and nodding indifferently to Percy. "Sorry, but Harry and I were in the Park having a pick up game with the Ravenclaw blokes."

Molly bristled. "You have far more important things to do than muck about on the Quidditch pitch," she declared.

Ron rolled his eyes. "We're at parties six nights out of seven, Mum. What else do you want? We're trying."

"I've made a list for each of you," she said, reaching into her handbag for a roll of parchment.

"Mum, no!" Ginny blurted. Even Bill and Ron looked horrified.

Molly turned on her daughter. "You're not ON this list, missy," she said. "You're too young, so just mind your own business."

Harry caught Ginny's eye and suddenly both of them were afflicted with coughing fits to cover up the shared laughter that flowed between them at their affectionate exasperation with Molly.

"May I see my list, please?" Percy said, holding out his hand.

Molly used her wand to separate the three lists on the page of parchment and handed the middle section to Percy. "You see?" she said, looking severely from Ron to Bill. "Percy is willing to cooperate with me!"

Bill wisely kept his eyes on his teacup, but his youngest brother was unable to keep his mouth shut. "I don't need your list, Mum! I can find someone on my own!"

Molly turned her penetrating gaze on Ron. "Can you? Pray tell me who is on your list, Ronald. Just the top three will be fine."

Now Harry and Ginny exchanged an agonized look as Ron's mouth fell open, and he closed and opened it again a few times, as if he were a fish. Oddly enough, it was Percy who rescued Ron from the embarrassment of having to name names.

"Mother, I don't see Hermione Granger on this list," Percy said, frowning at the parchment.

Though Sophronia was much too well-bred to stare, it could fairly be said that every other eye in the room was now fixed on Percy with fascination.

"Well, no," Molly said, consulting her master list. "Hermione is on Ron's list, Percy."

Ron began again to speak, but this time Ginny was able to catch his eye and fiercely shake her head before he could say a word.

Percy sniffed. "Hermione has far too much sense to consider marrying Ron," he said with an air of certainty.

Tonks entered the fray. "You think she might have the kind of sense it takes to marry you, Perce?"

Percy, who took himself so seriously at all times that he was virtually immune to insult, looked at Tonks and responded, "Hermione is a girl of exceptional intelligence. I cannot imagine another young lady of my acquaintance who would make a more exemplary wife for a career diplomat."

Tonks nodded with mock solemnity. "I wish I could be there when you tell her so, Percy."

Harry, Ron, and Ginny were now in sore straits, doing their best not to bring the wrath of Molly down upon themselves by laughing aloud, but Tonks was really pushing them to their limits; even Bill seemed to be struggling not to laugh in Percy's face.

Percy, however, responded in a perfectly serious tone. "She will no doubt be flattered, Tonks. Hermione is a modest girl and is somewhat shy – it will not have occurred to her that I have realized in the last few months that I have a decided preference for her."

Ginny, who had, with a super-human effort, repressed her giggles, now spoke to her preposterous, deluded brother. "Percy, would you like for me to tell her for you? Feel her out, see what she thinks of the notion?"

"Soften the blow, more like," Ron muttered, just loudly enough for Harry and Tonks to hear him.

Stormy stood next to Bill, looking from Ginny to Tonks to Ron and Harry. "What is the joke?" she inquired, wanting to be let in on what was making her older friends want to laugh so much.

Molly was a devoted mother, but she could recognize the signs amongst the other young people, and she realized that Percy was exposing himself to the ridicule of his siblings. "Well, Percy, that is something you will want to speak with Hermione about, isn't it? She may already have someone," she added, with an inquisitive look at Sophronia.

"Hermione has not taken me into her confidence," Sophronia said quietly. "She has a number of visitors, and is never without a partner at the dances."

Percy identified Sophronia as a person with proper consideration for important matters. "Is there a Ministry function this evening, ma'am? One that Hermione will be attending?"

"There is the dedication of the new annex of the National Wizarding Museum tonight," Sophronia answered. "Many of our young ladies will be attending, though I cannot speak for Hermione."

Molly decided to bring the tea party to an end, before the younger ones could humiliate Percy with their obviously derogatory opinions of his chances to gain the affections of Hermione Granger.

Snape and McGonagall chaperoned their charges to the museum dedication after supper that evening. It should have been a quiet affair, with fewer than one hundred attendees, but as with every other opportunity these days, an orchestra and a caterer had been brought in, so that a cocktail party-cum-informal dance would take place in and about the new annex.

Sophronia did not accompany them this evening; Snape had left her sitting in the parlour with Lucius Malfoy, who had managed to manufacture a minimum of one excuse every day to appear at Grimmauld Place and to beg Sophronia's assistance with some niggling detail or other concerning the formal ball to be given at Malfoy Manor. Snape was torn; Lucius Malfoy had been a friend of his for nearly thirty years, but he was not at all sure that he wanted to see him as the stepfather of his sisters – nor as the potential biological father to further siblings Sophronia and her chosen husband might provide the three girls. There was a streak of ruthlessness in Lucius that Snape admired in a friend – and that he expected in a Slytherin – but he was not certain that it would make a good attribute for Sophronia's next husband.

After patrolling the four corners of the annex and satisfying himself that there were no security risks, he found a chair at a small table at the end of the room farthest from the orchestra and sat down to nurse his threatening migraine. He had hoped, with the end of the war, that the reduction in his personal stress levels would relieve him of the severe headaches that had plagued him for so long, but it now appeared that his hope was yet another vain wish he could add to his catalogue of things that would never come true for him.

Sophronia saw Lucius to the door, graciously accepting the kiss he pressed to her hand, then climbed the stairs to check on the girls and make sure they were in bed. In the nursery, she found Stormy slumbering in the midst of her dolls. Pausing only to tuck Stormy's blanket about her more securely, Sophronia proceeded to the room that Shadow shared with Skye.

From outside the room, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of weeping. For a moment, she closed her eyes and dreaded the conversation to come; she knew very well why Shadow was crying, and it wrenched her heart to see her child in such distress. She knew where her duty lay, however, and she took a deep breath and entered the darkened room, where Shadow sat on the cushioned window seat, her eyes gazing unseeingly out at the dark summer night.

Sophronia crossed the room and placed a loving hand on Shadow's shoulder. "Don't cry, precious," she said, pulling her handkerchief from the pocket of her robes and reaching out to blot tears from her daughter's face.

Shadow hiccupped and drew a shuddering breath. "I can't help it, Mama," she said. "I love him – you know I do."

Sophronia sighed and seated herself on the window seat cushion, stroking one hand down Shadow's long, honeyed hair.

"I know you believe you love him, darling. But you are only sixteen, and you will find yourself falling in and out of love a few more times before you choose the boy you'll marry."

"I will never love anyone else. And neither will he!" Shadow's tear-stained face turned entreatingly to her mother. "His mum gave him a list today! A LIST! He's supposed to choose some girl from the list, Mama! And I'm not on it!"

Shadow then flung herself into her mother's arms and had her cry, while Sophronia stroked her hair and promised her that she would get over him, that she would love someone else, and one day would look back and be thankful that she had not married Ronald Weasley when she was only sixteen years old.

Sophronia made sure her exhausted daughter was safely tucked up for sleep before she ascended the stairs to her own bedchamber. Was she lying to the child? She certainly did not mean to do so. But she could not help recalling that dark-haired boy who had captured her fancy when she was about Shadow's age. He had been in and out of her life for a few years, like a bee buzzing from flower to flower and back again – but he had always been at the back of her mind. Even after she had married Mr. Snape and learned to be a happy wife and mother, that dark-haired bad boy had continued to haunt her dreams.

Did she want that for Shadow? To live in some half-remembered eternal regret for the path not taken? Giving herself a mental shake, Sophronia prepared herself for bed. It was of no matter, really; Severus would never consent to Shadow promising herself at such a young age, and under Wizarding law, it would require the consent of both guardians for such a contract to be made for a child of her age.

Harry danced the second dance of the night with Skye; he had been unable to procure her hand for the first dance because Viktor Krum was there before him. Now it was the third dance, and Harry was sitting in a chair against the wall as Viktor danced with Skye again. Harry liked Viktor a lot, but lately it seemed as if the Bulgarian had been causing nothing but grief for the people Harry cared about. What had he meant by that public kiss with Tonks at the picnic? Professor Lupin had actually retracted his marriage offer after that incident, and it had seemed to Harry that Tonks and Professor Lupin were meant for each other. Harry knew Sirius well enough to know that he wasn't serious about Tonks, not even when he was escorting her to every party in town. Harry loved his godfather, but he hoped he never acted like that around women – Sirius seemed like a different bloke when he was wooing and paying court to all the women he met. And surely Professor Lupin wasn't really pursuing Hermione now? Harry was pretty sure that Hermione would end up leading Professor Lupin around like a tame wolf on a leash – why would Hermione want to be with someone she could order around like that? She was holding herself in check pretty well right now, but Harry and Ron were both agreed that the first time she got upset about something, it would blindside Professor Lupin, and he would not have a clue how to handle her when that happened.

Harry's train of thought was interrupted as he saw Luna Lovegood dance by in the arms of Draco Malfoy. The look on Luna's face caused Harry to do a double take. Yes, she had her cheek pressed to Draco's shoulder as if she were lost in a happy dream – and Draco was looking down at her with an expression that Harry could only interpret as tenderness. What was Draco doing looking at Luna like that? Craning his neck, Harry looked about the room, searching for Ginny. Draco had been wooing Ginny for weeks! How could he throw Ginny over for Luna? Harry was fond of Luna, but as a girlfriend – no, as a wife, he corrected himself – Luna couldn't hold a candle to Gin!

Harry left his seat and began to prowl the room, looking for Ginny. The dance came to an end, and he saw Seamus Finnegan claim Skye for the next number, while Viktor strolled out into the museum forecourt. He saw Ron, drinking glass after glass of punch and mooning about at one of the tables, boring anyone who came within speaking distance with his views on the age restrictions in the Marriage Law. He saw Hermione, continuing to dodge the persistent attentions of Percy Weasley, happily accepting invitations to dance from anyone who asked, just to keep distance between herself and Percy. Then he saw Fleur Delacour, entering the annex room and making a beeline for the spot where Professor Snape sat, pinching the bridge of his nose between his closed eyes and utterly oblivious to Fleur's advance. Just to be on the safe side, though Fleur seldom seemed to notice him unless he was with Skye, Harry slipped through a knot of people and out into the forecourt.

Fleur stopped before she reached the table where Severus sat alone and observed him with calculating eyes. He was oblivious to her presence, with his own eyes closed as he massaged his temples. Undoubtedly, he was suffering from one of his headaches again. Fleur believed that she knew an excellent way to dispel the headache pain, but her betrothed had shown not the least sign of interest in availing himself of her charms before their wedding day.

She turned her glance then to Hermione Granger, who was dancing a slow number in the arms of Sirius Black. Fleur might not be the intellectual equal of Hermione Granger, but she knew when she had been challenged. Granger's little remark about "what wizard might desire me" had not failed to find its mark with the intended victim. Fleur was no slouch in the art of scenting out potential rivals where her man was concerned and in doing what she could to disarm those rivals.

Another alternative was to make her man oblivious to other women. To get his attention focused so intently on her that she would have no rival.

Perhaps it was time for her to take matters into her own capable hands.

The sight that met Harry's eyes when he stepped out onto the forecourt struck him with a force of emotion that was as violent as it was unexpected. Ginny sat atop the terrace wall, her face lifted and her eyes closed, as Viktor Krum leaned ever-closer to her, his gaze intent upon her face.

"Ginny!" Harry blurted, stepping forward aggressively.

Ginny startled and looked over at him, an odd expression on her face. "Hi, Harry," she said.

"Come on," he commanded, halting beside her and holding out his hand.

Viktor slanted a look of amusement at Harry, obediently stepping away from Ginny so that she could jump down from the wall.

"What?" she demanded petulantly, preparing to fire up for a row.

Harry ignored her tone and grabbed her hand, tugging her back toward the interior of the museum annex. "You promised this dance to me," he said.

Ginny dug in her heels, jerking her hand away from him. "I did not!" she said.

Harry turned to face her, trying to figure out how to get her back inside, away from Krum. Viktor chose that moment to stroll back toward the door, saying quietly to Harry, as he passed, "You can hear the music out here, too."

Grateful for the tip, though suspicious of the reason for it, Harry stepped up to Ginny and wrapped his arm about her waist, deftly capturing her hand. "This is one of your favourite songs, Gin," he said coaxingly, gently urging her to dance.

"Oh, all right," Ginny said, unable to resist Harry once he began to coax her. They started to dance, and she looked up into his eyes.

"What were you doing out here, alone in the dark with Viktor?" he said, trying to infuse the question with big-brotherly concern.

"I came out to look at the stars," she informed him. Puzzling for a moment over his words, she nearly stumbled as it dawned on her that Harry's reaction was due to jealousy. "Viktor wandered out here, and was talking to me, and he noticed an eyelash on my cheek. He was just about to remove it when you came barrelling out here."

Harry stopped dancing and reached for Ginny's chin, angling so that the moonlight shone on her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" she whispered as her eyelids fluttered closed.

"I don't see an eyelash," he whispered back, struggling with these overwhelming feelings, which had come upon him out of nowhere when he saw Viktor hovering over Ginny's lips – lips now just inches from his own. She stood willingly, compliantly, in the circle of his arms, and trustingly closed her eyes as she lifted her face to him – dear Merlin, how he wanted to kiss her! But he had been pursuing Skye, he had kissed Skye, he had no business kissing Ginny –

And neither did anyone else, by God.

Then Ginny took the decision away from him. When she opened her eyes and saw the way he was looking at her, she did the only reasonable thing – she pulled his face down to hers for a kiss.

Harry was not a greatly experienced kisser; he had shared a bit of snogging with Cho, and the odd snog here and there with other girls at parties when they played Postman's Knock. His few kisses with Skye had been chaste, closed-mouth encounters, marked by reserve on her part and reverence on his.

This was different.

Ginny's lips, as she captured his mouth, were soft and mobile beneath his own. She actually sucked unhurriedly at his lower lip and gnawed it gently with her little teeth. He opened his mouth and her tongue moved against the lip she had bitten. When that happened, his tongue darted into her mouth and her hands crept into his hair. The kiss seemed to go on and on as they explored one another's mouths; it was as if the world outside the perimeter of their embrace had ceased to exist. At last, with a soft laugh, Ginny ended the kiss and buried her suddenly burning face in Harry's neck. He began to step back from her, fairly horrified at what he done, but she would not let him go. She wrapped her arms about his waist and pressed her cheek to his shoulder, gazing up into his face with unfocused eyes and rousingly bruised lips.

"You promised me a dance," she murmured.

They spent the remainder of the night dancing on the terrace, until Hermione called them in to leave.