Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I realize that this probably seems out of character. Oh well. Review, please. (This is unbetaed, so if there are any mistakes please tell me.)

Harry Potter was drunk.

Fred and George's stash of fire whiskey seemed to be the cause; they pulled him into their room and insisted that it was time he became a man. And apparently, to Fred and George, becoming a man meant drinking obscene amounts of alcohol and gossiping like a bunch of ten year old girls.

"No!" Ron was lying on George's bed, hugging a pillow to his chest in an oddly intimate way. "If Snape were shagging anyone if a broom closet, it would be Flitwick! Have you seen the way they look at each other?"

Harry, who preferred to think of Snape as a completely asexual being, had heard enough. He walked, or rather wobbled, to the door, mumbling something about needing air. Harry walked as quietly as he could to the Weasley's garden, hoping that the dizzying sensation he felt would subside soon.

He didn't realize that there was another occupant in the garden until she addressed him in a questioning tone:

"Harry? What are you doing out here?"

Harry sat up quickly, his head spinning as he did. He turned to stare at Ginny Weasley, who was looking rather concerned.

"Well hello there, Ginevra. Does anyone ever call you that?"

"Considering I hex anyone that does, no."

"You didn't hex me." Harry grinned at her. "And I think it's a pretty name."

He stared at her, and Ginny began to feel uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

"And it suits you," he continued "because you're pretty. Beautiful, actually."

Ginny was glad for the darkness, because she was sure that she was now blushing a deep scarlet.

"Are you drunk?" Ginny was torn between laughing at his obvious intoxication and running far away. Harry was different like this; he was clearly more open, and if possible, more intense. She wasn't sure she could handle him like this.

"Yes," he said proudly, "but even if I weren't, I'd still think you're pretty. Because you are."

Ginny looked away, but before she could speak, Harry continued.

"And your hair is amazing. I've always just wanted to reach out and touch it, you know? To see how many colors of red I can count."

And much to Ginny's surprise, he did just that. He actually reached up and ran a hand through her long hair.

"Yup," he said, grinning at her again. "Just as soft as I thought..."

"Harry, stop." Ginny spoke unconvincingly, as she had rather enjoyed the feeling of Harry's hand tangled in her hair. This could only lead to complications.

"And I just love your freckles..." Harry continued as though he hadn't heard her. "I would love to just spend a day finding every single freckle on your body, Ginny."

Ginny knew she should be offended; Harry was practically leering at her as he imagined counting her freckles. But she wasn't. Instead, she felt complimented, and special, and rather warm as she sat in the garden on this cold night.

"Some day I'll count them all, Ginny."

Ginny allowed Harry, who seemed completely serious, a small smile. She was dreading, yet almost hoping, that he would continue with his positive (and positively smashed) evaluation of her appearance.

"And your lips..." Harry trailed off, staring directly at her mouth, which had opened slightly in surprise.

After another moment of staring, Harry started talking again, almost to himself.

"So soft, and pink, and pretty..."

Harry drew a finger towards her face; Ginny seemed unable to move. His finger landed softly on her bottom lip, and lightly began to trace her mouth.

This action brought Harry partially out of his drunken stupor, and his eyes changed from their previous hazy green to a dark, almost black color. Ginny almost shuddered at the desire shown in them.

"Harry!" she said. "Harry, you're drunk. You need to go back and sleep this off." It couldn't happen like this; if she were going to be with Harry Potter, Ginny wanted it to be real, not some stupid decision made by Harry when he could think clearly.

"No, I need you, Ginny." His stare was far too intense for her.

Harry advanced on her, his mouth pressing hard against her. Almost against her will, Ginny responded. This caused Harry to pull her closer, his hands moving from their place on her hips to push up her sweater, moving up to her stomach.

This movement seemed to bring Ginny back to her senses, and she quickly pushed Harry's chest so hard he lost his breath.

"No, Harry. We can't do this." She seemed close to tears. "You can't do this to me." She rose and walked briskly back to the house, away from Harry.

Harry sat unmoving, not full comprehending what just happened. All he knew was that he had just made a huge mistake, and that now he was left alone with a strong need for Ginny Weasley.