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Practice Makes Perfect

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Practice Makes Perfect

by Jenorama

Loud conversation echoed through the pub and reverberated in Harry's head, making him grind his teeth together in irritation. Moodily staring down at the bar, he lifted his pint of Guinness and took a long swallow, licking the foam off of his upper lip. He glanced to his left at the loud wizard holding forth to his equally loud friend on the stool next to him and shot him a glare, wishing he could think of a way to shut him up and make it look like an accident. Deciding to ignore the boor next to him, he turned around on his stool and scanned the crowd. Further down the bar, he saw Ron in the middle of a group of girls and grimaced. He wouldn't be able to blast him out of here with a stick of dynamite tonight.

He raised his glass to his lips again and had it shoved painfully into his mouth as the git on his right rocked back on his stool next to him, braying with laughter. Half of the pint slopped down Harry's black tee shirt and splattered on his boots. Disgusted, Harry downed the remainder of his pint and wiped his wet hands on the back of the man’s shirt. “Cheers, mate.” Harry clapped him on the back and smiled at the man's confused look. He moved toward Ron and his harem and caught his eye. He pointed at himself and jerked his head to indicate he was going to leave, catching Ron's wink.

Plucking at the wet, smelly, tee shirt stuck to his chest, he walked quickly out of the pub and down the darkened street, arriving at his and Ron's shared flat about ten minutes later. Once inside, he pulled off the shirt and threw it on the floor of the kitchen where it landed with a wet thump. Harry waved his wand and the lights came up in the flat as he rummaged around the refrigerator for another beer. He found a Carlsberg hiding behind a questionable head of lettuce and popped it open, taking a long, satisfying pull.

Idly scratching his stomach, he wandered into the lounge and sat in his favorite chair, flicking on the wireless with his wand. He wasn't able to find any Quidditch on, so he turned it off and sat quietly, finishing his beer. His loud sigh filling the room, he let his head drop to the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He used his wand to turn the lights off and sat in the darkness, letting his breathing even out and felt the headache he'd developed in the pub start to ease.

He didn't know how long he had sat in the dark like that when he was startled out of an almost doze by the crack of someone Apparating into the flat. Quick as a flash, he jumped out of the chair and strode to the darkened kitchen, wand out and ready. He heard a crash and the sound of a body hitting the floor followed by a loud “Bloody hell!”

Brought up short, Harry raised the lights and blinked at the sight of Ginny sprawled on her stomach on his kitchen floor. He sheathed his wand in the specially made pocket of his trousers and knelt down next to her. “Gin? Are you okay? What the hell are you doing here?” He helped her sit up and sucked in his breath at the darkening bump on her forehead.

“Ouch! Harry? What are you doing here in the dark?” Ginny gingerly touched the rising knot and winced at the pain.

“What am I doing here in the dark? I live here! Come on, get up off the floor.” Harry stood and helped her up, satisfied that she wasn't hurt anywhere else.

“What did I trip on?” Ginny bent over and picked up the black tee shirt and sniffed it. “Phew! Did your training today include a field trip to a brewery?”

Harry snatched the shirt out of her hands and threw it down the hall towards his bedroom. “No. Down at the pub some bloke made me spill my pint. It was too bloody crowded so I came home.”

Ginny sank down on the leather couch and probed her forehead again. “Well, sounds like an exciting night for you, then. Ron home?”

“No. Still entertaining his harem, I expect. What are you doing here, Gin?” He had turned on the lights in the lounge and took a good look at her. She wasn't dressed in the usual jeans and jumper he was used to seeing her in, but rather black slacks that clung to her legs in an interesting way and a cream-colored blouse that looked like it was made out of some sort of silky material. Her shoes were high heels rather than her favorite ratty trainers and Harry suspected her footwear had played a role in her accident.

“What, can't I visit my two favorite Aurors-in-training?” She attempted a wide-eyed innocent look but that was spoiled by a wince of pain. “Ow, this hurts! Harry, can't you do anything?”

“Don't look at me! I'm not the apprentice Healer here!”

“I'm not an apprentice yet! Not for two more weeks. Come on, Harry,” she pleaded.

“Stay there. I'll be right back.” He shook his head and smiled in amusement as he rummaged in the freezer for some ice and wrapped a few pieces up in a dishtowel. “Here, hold this to your head.”

Ginny took it and pressed it to her head for a moment before drawing back and looking from the towel to Harry. “Ice? Is that the best you can do?”

Harry settled back into his chair and spread his hands wide. “Hey, tonight it's the best I can do. Whack your head after I've gone through battle medicine and then we'll see.” Ginny put the ice back to her bump and sighed as the coldness began to numb the pain. “So, you're dressed awfully nice to visit a couple of scruffy Auror trainees.”

“All right Potter. I was out on a date.”

“Yeah? Didn't go too well, I take it?”

“No.” Ginny continued to press the ice pack to her forehead and closed her eyes, seemingly done talking.

Harry let her sit quietly, knowing that she would tell him about her date when she was ready and got up to rummage through some of his Muggle CDs. He picked one out and put it in the player, carefully putting the one that was in there back in its case. It was a favorite one of Ron's for 'entertaining' and Harry couldn't squelch the wish that he had a reason for a favorite CD for 'entertaining' as well. He started the music playing at a low volume and sat back in his chair, looking back at Ginny.

“What's this?” she asked in the middle of the first song.

“American Muggle. Janis Joplin. This is 'Pearl'.”

Ginny nodded and listened to the music. “She doesn't sound too happy.”

“She's not. She's singing the blues.”

“Oh. Hey, do you have anymore of those?”

Harry looked where she was pointing and saw the empty beer bottle. “Sorry. Just finished the last one. Didn't know you were coming by or I would have saved it. Hey, I can wring out my shirt for you, yeah?”

“Don't be disgusting! I don't like Guinness anyway.” Ginny stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. “This ice must be working. My head feels tons better.” She set the ice pack down on the couch and gingerly probed the bump above her left eye. “Oh, it feels smaller already. Thanks, Harry!” She got up from the couch and Harry watched her kick off her high-heeled shoes and walk barefoot into the kitchen, admiring how perfectly her slacks fit her trim, athletic body.

He heard the clatter of ice in the sink and the refrigerator opening. “Oh, what's in here? A little Herbology experiment?” She came back into the lounge with a bottle of pumpkin juice and stretched out lengthwise on the couch with her back leaning against the arm. “Really Harry, that's pathetic! Lettuce and a bottle of brown sauce?”

“Gin, we're never here. And when we are here, we aren't eating. You’ll want to check the date on that,” he said, indicating the juice.

“With how often you two seem to show up at the Burrow for meals I don't doubt that.”

Harry waved his hand at her and rolled his eyes. “Enough about my eating habits. Tell me about your date.”

“Ugh.” Ginny rolled her own eyes and took a long drink of her juice. “What a disaster. He's the son of a friend of Dad's from the Ministry.”

“Oh. One of those.”

“Yeah, those. No sense of humor, but somehow thinks he's the funniest thing on the planet. He went on about his boring job stamping applications or stomping puppies or whatever. I thought I was going to die of boredom before the main course came!” She looked up at Harry and he smiled sympathetically. “He rather reminded me of that Muggle cousin of yours.”

“Oh bad luck, Gin.”

“And, once dinner was over, we were supposed to go to the Muggle cinema. Harry, we're sitting in the dark and I'm getting ready to actually enjoy something of the evening and he's got his sausage fingers on my breast! Before the previews are over! Disgusting! But, I'd been dying to see the film, so I just took his hand off and told him that I didn't know him well enough for that yet. So then it happens again at the opening credits! And he squeezes me! I'd had enough, so I dumped my giant drink in his lap and Apparated straight out of there and came here.”

Harry gaped at Ginny and laughed out loud. “You dumped an entire Coke in his lap? Good on you, Gin!” He made a fist and shook it at her, sharing her triumph over the slimy git.

“That's right. Take liberties with me and there'll be consequences!” Ginny finished her pumpkin juice and set the bottle down on the wood floor with a sigh. “I didn't want to answer any questions about coming home early from Mum and Dad, so I hope you don't mind that I came here. I wasn't actually expecting anyone to be home.”

“No worries, Gin. You're welcome here any time,” he said, wondering how many times she’d hung out at their place when they weren’t here. That would explain a few things, he thought. They were quiet again and Ginny continued to look at him, making Harry aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Fine, let her look. He tried to figure out why her looking at him was making him vaguely self-conscious. It’s jut Ginny, she’s seen me without a shirt loads of times.

Still looking at him, she shook her head and smiled.

“What?” Harry asked defensively.

“I'm still not used to seeing you all the time without your glasses.”

Harry felt himself blush and he looked down at the dark wood floor. “Yeah, well, sometimes I'm not used to it either.”

“How's it working?”

“Professional curiosity?” Harry grinned at her and saw she'd changed positions on the couch and was now leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. This had the effect of making her shirt gape open a bit, giving Harry a good view of her freckled cleavage. He quickly looked back up to her face and hoped she hadn't noticed him staring at her. “It's uh, working very well, actually. I had my doubts when they told me I had to have the procedure or I couldn't enter the program.”

Ginny nodded. “You're lucky. It doesn't work for everyone, you know. Magical medicine can only do so much. Can I take a look?”

“Will you be able to tell anything?”

“Not really, but humor me. I can practice my bedside manner.” Ginny smiled at him again and moved to sit on the coffee table that stood between the couch and the overstuffed leather chair Harry sat in. She peered into his left eye and carefully raised his eyelid a bit, her touch feather light on his skin and Harry felt his face heat up again.

“Uh, it's really weird. It seems to work better on my left eye than my right, which is worse anyway without the procedure. I mean, if you look through my glasses, the right one is a stronger prescription, so I guess it would make sense, you know? I'm just glad to be rid of the damn things–I got so tired of repairing them or worrying about losing them or getting them knocked off.” Harry knew he was babbling but he was helpless to stop. He was relieved when Ginny interrupted him with a question.

“How long has it been since you had it done?” She was looking at his right eye now.

“Um, I think I've just had it done the once. Right before training started, so that's what, a year?”

Ginny took her hands off of his face and sat back from him. “That's very good. I know it has to be redone every now and then, but I guess mileage varies. I can't wait to start my training!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious and Harry smiled widely, patting her on the shoulder. “You'll do great, Gin. Whenever I get fucked up in the line of duty, I'll insist on seeing only you.” The material of her blouse was indeed very silky and he quickly pulled his hand back, cursing inwardly as he felt a tightening of his trousers.

She looked pleased and smiled shyly at him, brushing her long red hair behind her ear. “Harry, you always know what to say to a girl,” she teased, still sitting on the coffee table.

Harry leaned back in the chair and barked out a short laugh. “Says you! I can't seem to convince any of the girls that I meet of that!”

“Do you mean to say that the famous Harry Potter is lacking for female companionship?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I've had girls–women, interested in me, but not the right sort, yeah?”

“Ah,” Ginny said softly, understanding. “Not the sort you'd take home to Mum? Just ones that want a shag so they can brag to their slag friends that they bagged The Boy Who Lived?” Harry blushed and nodded, looking down at the toes of his boots. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Have you? Taken any of them up on their offers?”

Harry's head snapped back up and his eyes met Ginny's. He saw a frank curiosity there as well as friendly concern. “No, I haven't.” He blew out a breath and realized the CD had stopped playing. Agitated, he got up to put on another one, choosing the Rolling Stones “Love you Live” first disc and felt the electric energy of the Rolling Stones at their peak course through him.

He stayed standing and ran his fingers through his much shorter but still messy hair. He had just confessed the fact that at nineteen he was still a virgin to a girl he'd known since he was twelve. Harry felt very exposed and desperately wished he was wearing a shirt, but he didn't know how to excuse himself to put one on without the situation becoming hopelessly awkward.

“Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of, is it? Not if you haven't found the right girl.” She paused for a moment and cocked her head. “This is different. Who is this now?”

“Rolling Stones,” Harry mumbled, feeling tired all of a sudden. He moved to sit on the couch and started unlacing his boots, unsheathing the knife in the right one and setting it on the coffee table. He caught Ginny's look at the wicked-looking knife and then at him and he gave her a small smile. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right. That looks like it means business.”

“It does. Hope I never have to use it.”

“Me too,” she said softly.

Boots off, Harry wiggled his toes and stretched, sheathing the long knife back in its spot. “There, all gone.” He leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes, trying to relax and get rid of his lingering headache.

“I should probably go,” Ginny said quietly.

Harry raised his head and looked at her. She was still perched on the coffee table and to Harry she looked very much like the young witch just out of Hogwarts that she was. “No, Gin, you don't have to go. Stay for a bit longer. It's early still and if you show up at the Burrow now, you won't get any rest from your mum and dad.” He patted the spot on the couch next to him. “I had a crap day, but it got better when you came in and tripped on my shirt.”

Ginny smiled and settled down next to him, drawing her legs up on the couch and leaning against him. Harry almost jumped out of his skin when he felt the silky material of her blouse rub against him and he could feel the heat of her small body burning through it. Her long red hair tickled his shoulder and again he felt his trousers go tight. Casting around for a topic, Harry blurted out, “How about you? Have you taken anyone up on their offer yet?”

She fixed him with an incredulous look. “Harry James Potter. Did you just ask me if I'm a virgin?”

Knowing he was blushing but unable to do anything about it, he affected a casual look and tone. “Well, yeah. You asked me first, didn't you?”

“So I did.” Ginny looked at him appraisingly and nodded. “No, I haven't taken anyone up on their offer. I have had a few offers, but none have really interested me. I guess it's different for girls than it is for blokes, isn’t it? When a bloke does it for the first time, it's rather like 'Hooray for me.'” Harry snorted and shook his head. “But for a girl,” she continued, “there's so much pressure to make the right decision. Wait until marriage or before? What if he's not 'the one'? What if you do it with him and then it's all over the place that you're a slag? What if you do it and it's horrible and you never want to do it again? What if you don't do it right and it gets around that you're bad in bed?”

“It's not exactly a picnic for us either, you know. There's always performance anxiety to contend with and the same thing you said. What if I'm rubbish at it and it gets around that The Boy Who Lived is The Boy Who's a Bad Lay?” Ginny shook her head and giggled quietly. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. “Go on and laugh at me, why don't you?”

“Harry, I'm not, really. I think it's sweet, actually.” She was quiet for a moment, looking at him from under her long lashes. “From what I remember, you were at least a very good kisser.”

He cocked his head and looked down at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. He could see the blush creeping into her cheeks and down her neck. “I was, wasn't I?” He recalled stolen moments spent snogging the brief time they were together during his sixth year. “That was a good time,” he said dreamily.

“Yeah it was,” Ginny agreed softly. “The last good time for a while.”

“That's putting it mildly.” Harry did not often dwell on his time spent hunting down Voldemort’s Horcruxes or how he had been prepared to die in order to defeat the Dark Lord. He especially didn’t want to dwell on the deaths, especially with Ginny sitting right here with him.

“You know what we need?” Ginny asked, breaking into his thoughts. Harry shook his head, a funny feeling starting in his stomach when he saw the glint in her eye. “Practice.”

“Practice?” Harry's voice came out a bit hoarse and he cleared his throat and said it again. “Practice?”

“Yes, practice. Look, we're mates, right?” Harry nodded. “And mates help each other. Neither one of us wants to be bad in bed, and neither one of us has a clue what we're doing, do we? I certainly won't have to worry about you calling me a slag and I have absolutely no expectations, so no performance anxiety for you. It's a win-win situation.” She sat up straighter, no longer leaning against him and he could see the insecure girl was gone, replaced by a confident young woman. “That way, when the right girl comes along for you, Harry, you'll know exactly what to do and be able to knock her socks off. Excited now, she stood up and grabbed Harry's hand, tugging him up off the couch. “Come on!”

“Now? Here?” Harry croaked, still overwhelmed by this turn of events.

“Not here on the couch, the bed silly. And of course now. No time like the present!” Her face fell. “Unless I'm...not your type.”

Harry looked down at her. He wasn't as tall as Ron, but he was still considerably taller than Ginny who, like the twins and Charlie, had taken more after Mrs. Weasly's side of the family. The boys were stocky and compact with a strength that had made Fred and George such perfect beaters where Ginny was small and finely made with a graceful, athletic build that Harry knew many women would kill for. “No Gin, you're perfect. Am I, uh, your ... type?” Feeling very exposed again, he stood there and watched as her eyes moved from the top of his head to the ends of his toes, lingering for a moment on his bare chest the prominent bulge in his black cargo trousers. When her survey was complete, she shook her head and smiled at him, taking his hand in hers again and leading him to his bedroom. I guess I passed muster.

He followed her in a daze, his mind empty of everything except for one thought: I'm finally going to do it! Yes! Dimly, he heard the Stones singing “Happy” and knew that he would never be able to listen to the song again without thinking of this moment. Harry kicked his beer-soaked shirt out of the hall and into his room and closed the door after them.

They stood in the center of the room, looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, Ginny huffed and sat on the bed, bouncing experimentally a few times. “Springy. Come on, sit.” She patted the spot next to her and Harry took a tentative step to her.

“Wait a minute. Do we...undress now, or later?”

“I don't know what difference it makes.”

“Well, I mean, if we're...involved, it might be difficult to get undressed in the middle of things, yeah?” Harry felt immensely stupid and couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. He had to resist the urge to bang his head against the wall.

Ginny looked at him with a quirky smile and stood up, moving to stand right in front of him. “Okay. Undress then.”

“What about you?”

“You go first, then me.”

“No fair. You've got more clothes on.”

“That doesn't matter. Get on with it.”

“I can't believe I'm getting bossed around by you in my own bedroom,” Harry grumbled as he reached for his belt. He quickly unfastened his belt and trousers, sliding them down his hips and legs and stepping out of them. More to annoy Ginny than to satisfy any sense of fastidiousness, he carefully folded them and placed them on his desk chair. He turned back to her and stood on one foot, removing first one sock and then the other, tossing them in the hamper. She shifted her gaze rather pointedly to his boxers and he gave her a wicked smile, not sure where this boldness was coming from. She was always good at bringing that out in him, he knew, remembering back to their very first kiss. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and very slowly slid them down until they fell down of their own accord. Suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable, he quickly bent and scooped them up, tossing them in the hamper as well.

“Very nice, Potter. I see all that running-jumping-climbing trees has done you very well. Not quite the skinny boy I remember.” Ginny looked up at his face and gave him a slow smile. “Now I guess it's my turn.” Harry watched, mesmerized as Ginny made quick work of her own clothes, carefully hanging her shirt on the back of his desk chair and setting her own carefully folded trousers on top of his own. Her bra and knickers were an ivory color and very lacy, obviously a matching set. Involuntarily, he reached out and fingered a lacy strap where it came down over her collarbone. “Do you want to try it? It is something you should know, after all.”

“Try what?” Harry's voice came out in a bit of a croak and the sight of her in her under things was making his cock throb almost painfully.

“Try to take off my bra. I understand most blokes have a hard time of it. Here.” She turned around and moved her hair out of the way and Harry let out a small groan at the sight of her trim backside in the lace knickers. He took a step closer to her and studied the hook and eye enclosure for a moment and quickly undid it. Ginny turned back around and looked up at him. “Well, that was easy. Have you done it before?”

“No. The uh, girl usually took care of that.” Harry admitted, thinking back to the times that he'd had the experience of touching a girl's breasts. He watched as Ginny removed the bra and placed it on top of her trousers and then followed with her knickers in short order. She stood before him and he could see her fighting the urge to cover herself and hide from his eyes.

Following her example, he started at the top of her head, seeing how the lamplight glinted on her long straight hair that was streaked lighter in places by the sun. Her face was open and expectant, her pink lips slightly parted. He'd noticed her freckles had faded a bit as she got older, but they were still plentiful where she tended to get more sun on her face and arms. Her chest and breasts were dusted with them as well as her stomach and lithe, muscular legs. “Well?” she asked, looking at him shyly.

Harry just nodded and took another step forward, closing the distance between them. He gently laid his hands on her shoulders and bent his mouth to hers, drawing her into a long, slow kiss. He felt his erection pressed between their bodies and hoped that he could hold out long enough to actually achieve their goal. Her skin under his hands was very warm, almost hot and he slid them around to her back and stroked up and down. He felt her arms go around him and her small hands, still callused from handling a Quaffle, moved up and down his back as well, making him shiver.

She broke this kiss and looked up at him, her eyes dark and unreadable. Ginny cast a quick glance at the bed and tugged at his hand. “Wait a minute,” Harry whispered, grabbing his trousers and digging his wand out of the long pocket. He thought back to the lesson Arthur had given him and Ron in the garden shed and felt a momentary flash of guilt that he was about to implement that lesson with Arthur’s only daughter. Sending a quick mental apology his way, Harry performed the necessary task.

“I'm glad you thought of that. I guess I'll have to practice remembering that myself!” Harry felt some of the tension go out of the situation and he gave a small laugh and followed Ginny to the bed. She stood next to it for a moment and looked at him. “Would you rather be on top of the covers or under?”

“It's up to you.” Harry shrugged and watched as she pulled back the duvet and sheet and quickly got in the bed, drawing the covers up to her chin. He followed her and gingerly settled his body next to hers. “Do you want the light on or off?”

“Do you want the light on or off?”

“I asked you first. It doesn't make any difference to me.”

“It doesn't? You don't want to be able to see me?”

“Gin, that's not what I meant. I mean, if you're uncomfortable with it on, I can turn it off.”

“Oh. No, leave it on. For now anyway.”

Harry looked at her and saw her eyes were huge in her face and she was looking a little skittish. “Gin, are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to.” Harry's inner demon raged at these words and his inner angel struggled to pour buckets of cold water on the demon, only to have the water turn into steam on contact.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to back out, Potter?” Harry shook his head vehemently. “Come on, I want this over with already.”

Harry pursed his lips in mock exasperation. “I'm not sure how I should take that.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Ginny hid her face under the covers and Harry smiled, reaching out to pull them away from her face.

“What should I do next? Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Well, strictly speaking, we don't really need practice with that.”

“You never know, I could be a little rusty.” Harry lowered his mouth to hers and he savored the feel of her lips against his. They were always so soft and that fact mystified him about every girl he'd ever kissed, but Ginny's were especially so. They kissed for a long time, their lips moving and then opening, tongues touching and exploring. Harry ran his hand up and down her side, stroking her skin and gradually moving until he closed his hand on her firm breast, eliciting a squeak from Ginny.

He broke the kiss and smiled, pinching the pink nipple lightly and watching her reaction. “Is this old territory for you too?” His voice was soft and low and like nothing he'd ever heard come out of him before.

“Yes.” She sounded breathless, rather like she had just run across the Quidditch pitch and she smiled at him as he continued to move his hand on her breast. “What about you? Are you rusty as this as well?”

“Mmm, just a bit.” He continued moving his hand, rubbing his palm against her nipple and he kissed her again, tugging on her bottom lip before moving down her neck, flicking her sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue. Propping himself up on his elbow, he kissed down the valley between her breasts and stroked her stomach, tracing the tip of his finger around her navel. Harry looked up at her and saw her eyes were closed and her lips were parted, her pink tongue darting out to sweep across her lower lip.

The sight of her like that made him throb again and he prayed to the gods above that he could hold on just a bit longer. He drew a nipple into his mouth and heard her gasp, the sound of it making him impossibly harder. He drew his hand back up her stomach to her other breast and tweaked that nipple as he licked and sucked at the other one. After a few minutes, he drew her closer to him and used his mouth on that nipple as well. He felt her move her hips slowly, almost languidly and she brushed against his rock hard cock.

Her eyes flew open when she felt him against her hip and she looked at Harry, freezing the movement of her hips. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly, his voice still sounding strange to his ears.

“Oh yes, very ready, I think.” Ginny's voice was shaky and she cleared her throat. All of her teasing and confidence was gone now and she looked a little scared and a lot aroused. Her normally pale skin had gone very pink from her face all the way down her chest and even her stomach was a little pinker than usual.

“So, should I be...on top, I guess?”

“I guess,” she said faintly.

“Okay.” Harry was glad to get off of his elbow as his shoulder had gotten rather sore and he sat up, massaging his shoulder a bit and getting the blood flow back to normal. He moved underneath the sheet and duvet, finding them more of a bother than he thought they were worth and vowed that the next time he did this it would be without covers in the way. She had spread her legs out of the way for him and he settled between them, not sure of how much of his weight she could take. He leaned forward on his elbows and forearms, trying to share some of the weight on his knees and felt his erection brush against her damp curls.

“Um, I think you can put some of your weight on me,” Ginny whispered hesitantly. Harry rested some of his upper body on her and she wheezed out, “Too much.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, going back to his original plan, his face flaming. So many logistics!

“That's okay. That's why we're practicing.” Ginny murmured into his ear and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Ready?”

Harry nodded and pushed forward. Nothing seemed to happen and he frowned, confused. He knew how the basic mechanics of how sex worked and it didn't look that complicated. Tab A, slot B, and so on and so on. Ginny looked up at him in confusion. “Are you in?”

“I don't think so. Hang on.” Feeling like a bloody idiot who couldn't even get sex right, he reached down with one hand and touched her, feeling her inhale sharply. This was something he'd one done a few times before and the feeling of her slickness threatened to make him lose his mind entirely. There, he thought to himself when his fingers found her very wet opening. Ginny made a sound like a strangled gasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Are you ready now?”

“Impatient, aren't we? Yes, I'm ready.” Feeling like he was liable to burst at any second, Harry took his cock in his hand and guided it into her, pushing forward slowly. He knew it was likely to hurt Ginny and he didn't want it to hurt any worse than it had to. Looking down, he saw her face was screwed up in anticipation and he bent his head down to kiss her as he pushed farther in. He balanced his body back on both arms and felt the barrier inside her. Not wanting to draw it out, he made a quick thrust forward and broke through, hearing Ginny grunt in surprise and pain.

Once he felt like he was in as far as he could go, he paused for a moment and kissed her deeply, his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth rhythmically, and he began to move slowly out of her. The feeling of her wrapped so completely around him was like nothing he'd ever felt before and he pushed back into her, moving faster now. Sweat was breaking out all over his body and he felt their skin sticking together. Harry was just getting into a steady movement and he felt Ginny start to move underneath him, meeting his strokes when he felt the unmistakable approach of his orgasm. “Oh no, too soon,” he groaned as he continued to move, desperately trying to hold on just a little longer, trying to give Ginny enough time for her own completion.

This was not a battle he could win, however, and he felt his release overtake him, groaning into her neck until it was over. He felt like he had run a marathon and, mindful of crushing Ginny, he moved off of her and curled up next to her side, pulling her close and squeezing her tight. His legs were shaking and he felt the beginnings of a cramp in his left one and quickly stretched it out, refusing to let it take hold. They were both breathing hard and were sweaty all over, the feeling of skin on skin almost overwhelming.

Once he caught his breath, Harry kissed Ginny gently and ran his hands in her soft hair. He felt her hands stroking his back and shoulders and he reveled in the sensation. “I'm sorry, Gin,” he whispered into her hair.

“For what?” she whispered back.

“For not lasting long enough.”

She pulled back from him a bit and fixed him with a look. “Harry, you can hardly expect to be the world's best lover on your first try.”

“Yeah, but you didn't–”

Ginny placed her finger against his lips, silencing him. “Hey, what are we doing here? We're practicing and practice makes perfect. Don't worry about it.”

Harry kissed her finger and smiled. “All right then, I won't.”

“Don't think that you can get away with that again, though.” Ginny looked at him severely and kissed him again.

Harry gave her a mock salute and smiled cockily. “Yes ma'am. When's our next practice session then?”

Ginny glanced at the clock on the bedside table and grinned wickedly up at Harry. “Well, it is still early yet and I don't want to have to answer any embarrassing questions about my date from Mum and Dad...”