Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs
Summary: Ginny has just broken up with Dean Thomas, saying that his kisses don't spark anything in her. Ron, who has always wanted her to get together with Harry, suggests she kiss her former crush to see if anything sparks there. What happens afterward can only be described as…
Disclaimer: Do not, have not, will not own Harry Potter.
Two weeks into Harry's sixth year:
"Hey, guys," Ginny Weasley said brightly, plopping on the couch in between her brother and his best friend, Harry Potter. "Where's Hermione?"
"She's in the library," Ron said suspiciously, eyeing her. "Why aren't you over there, with your boyfriend," he asked scathingly, shooting Dean Thomas a death glare.
"Honestly, Ron," Ginny huffed. "You can be so immature sometimes and it really gets on my nerves. If you must know, Dean and I broke up."
Harry's heart gave a little, completely unexplained thump as a wide-eyed Ron exclaimed "Hey, really? This is great!"
"Thanks for your concern," Ginny shot back, annoyed.
"Well, now you can get together with Harry!" he said triumphantly. Harry squirmed uncomfortably on the couch. "Er- Ron-"
"So why'd you break up?" he continued, ignoring Ginny and Harry's obvious discomfort. Ginny glared at him, opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. She threw Harry a wink.
"Well, Ron," she said sweetly. "You see, Dean and I have made such wild love so often that we realized that we're tired of each other. We broke up so we could try other people. Who here do you think would be best in bed?" she asked thoughtfully, scanning the room.
Harry grinned to himself as he watched Ron's jaw hit the floor. It was rather interesting, Harry mused, to see Ron's face go from pale to almost glowing so red it blotted out his freckles. Ron sputtered incoherently for a full minute before Ginny took pity on him.
"Relax, Ron," she said impatiently. "You know I wouldn't do that. But I'm not a baby anymore, if you'd like to remember that! Dean and I broke up because we could tell that there was nothing between us. There's just no spark in our kisses, we're just friends, so we decided to call it off. Okay?"
Ron slowly calmed, still shooting death glares at a blissfully ignorant Dean. Ginny elbowed him in the side. "Stop that, Ronald! He didn't do anything!"
Ron looked like he was about to blow his fiery head off, but suddenly he calmed, and a sly grin crept over his face. "You didn't feel a spark, huh? I bet if you kissed Harry, you'd feel a spark."
"Ron!" Harry exclaimed, wishing he could sink into the couch. He covered his face as he listened to Ginny yelling at her brother.
"Hey, hey, hey," Ron said, holding up his hands. "I was just saying-"
"I know what you were saying, Ron," Ginny said furiously. "And I want you to stop saying it! I don't like Harry in that way anymore! Look at the poor boy, you're embarrassing him and you're embarrassing me."
"Come on, Ginny," Ron begged. "Just try it. I bet you'd like kissing Harry."
"You need to learn to just shut up," Ginny fumed. "You know what? If it'll get you off my case, I'll do it."
"Uh- what?" Harry asked nervously, his head snapping up.
"Come on, Harry," Ginny said, yanking on his shirt. Suddenly, her pretty freckled face was very, very close to his. He dazedly tried to guess at the number freckles adorning her cheeks before she pressed her lips to his.
It was probably a short kiss in normal time, but for Harry, 'normal time' didn't seem to exist anymore. He thought the kiss seemed to go on forever; warm, soft, and entirely unlike Cho's kiss. That kiss had been needy and wet, and he hadn't had any specific desire to repeat it. Now… now he wanted to go on kissing Ginny forever. Then this jumped to thoughts of marrying her, raising a family with her, never ever leaving her side… wow. Was this really Ginny?
Oh yes, there was definitely a spark.
They pulled apart, acutely aware of Ron watching intently. "So? Was there a spark?" he asked impatiently.
Harry swallowed and found his throat very dry. He tried to answer, but the best he could do was nod timidly. He found that he wasn't quite able to stop nodding. That is, until Ginny began to speak, and he froze, awaiting her answer.
"No," she said thoughtfully, and abruptly Harry's heart plunged into his stomach. "No, it wasn't so much as a spark as a whole carton of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs."
Harry barely processed this thought before they were kissing again. This time she opened her lips timidly and he slowly slipped his tongue inside her mouth. This kiss went on for much longer then the last, growing much more passionate, until-
"Okay, Harry," Ron said, yanking him by the shoulders away from Ginny. "You are going to limit your kisses to closed-mouth only. Don't go making out in the halls- save it for special occasions. You are going to treat my little sister like the queen she is- and she'd better receive flowers from you at least once a week. You spend some quality time with her every day, and you better not ignore her at lunch. I expect to see you two-"
He continued on in this vein for three or four minutes, Harry and Ginny looking absolutely horrified, until Hermione came through the portrait hole, carrying a large wooden box and beaming. "You'll never guess what I ordered," she said brightly, putting the box down. "I normally wouldn't support this kind of thing, but I thought it might be nice to set these off one night- with Dumbledore's permission of course, but I'm sure he would let us, I think he would find these quite amusing."
Grateful for any interruption, Harry and Ginny hurried over to look at the crate. Stamped on the top in gaudy red letters were the words Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs.
A sequel, "Dr. Filibuster's Old-Fashioned Fireworks", is up; just click on my profile for the link. Please leave a review if you are so inclined. (Reviews like yours inspired me to write the sequel, after all!)