Ginny had a great many things to do: finalize her list of all the things she needed from Fred and George's shop before she quit to focus on The Turnip full time, decide exactly what she would tell her family she was doing with her time, tidy up her living space, and finish her article. Instead, she sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, listening to her mother, while her mind was focused on the very small package she'd hidden under her covers.

Not that anyone was likely to see it, but Ginny needed that extra protection of her privacy...

"...do you want, Ginny?"

Ginny startled and heat gathered in her cheeks. "What do I want?"

"For your birthday tea," her mother explained patiently. "Everyone's coming... the sooner I know what you want, the better."

Get ahold of it, Ginny scolded herself. She would be twenty years old in two weeks. The days when she'd first started doing what she planned to as soon as her mother was finished chatting were long gone — Ginny wasn't that fourteen year old anymore. There was no cause to feel the flush she did, or the worry that somehow her mother would figure out she'd been shopping in Carn Alley.

"Ginny?" Molly prodded.

"Um, can... can we just have everyone pick their own favorite meal?" Ginny asked.

"Everyone pick their own?" Molly asked. She blinked several times. "I could do that... it would certainly keep your brothers from complaining..."

"The gits," Ginny said, smiling. "They'll still find something to complain about."

"They better not, it's your birthday, and you've a right to choose," said Molly. "Well, dear, I'll be off then. I still need to tidy up after last night..." Her head bobbed back and forth in the flames. "It looks as though you'll be doing the same thing!"

"As soon as we're done chatting," lied Ginny.

"Are your wards up?" Molly asked, a thread of anxiety winding through her words. "I know I am supposed to be upset you used an illegal ward, but I do wish you'd been allowed to keep it..."

"My wards are safe," said Ginny. "I wish they'd let me keep it, too." There were few things creepier than being stalked by a yonobo, but that was the price she paid for doing the work she did.

"Ah, well, we'll see you soon, dear," said Molly.

After a quick I love you, Molly's head disappeared from Ginny's fireplace. The green flames melted back into orange and Ginny leapt up and fairly sprinted to her bad. With a flick of her wand, she set her wooden screen around her bed — the first time she'd done it since she moved in, as she lived alone and other than that yonobo, rarely had visitors.

She flung herself on her bed. The scent of honeysuckle sprang up around her and she reached just under the covers for the little brown package held together with twine.

Ginny unwrapped it, lips lifting in a smile. She hadn't been able to resist buying the little snitch. The fact it was a snitch combined with the fact Ginny was feeling a bit bored with just her own fingers and the moment she'd seen them buzzing around the toy store, she'd veered off her path and bought one. Now the little box was in her hand, she didn't know quite what to do with it.

Well. She knew the basics of what she wanted to do with it.

The snitch gleamed on a bed of velvet, and a very small scroll rose up into the air and unfurled itself. Ginny took it, squinting, and reading the instructions. After a moment, she put it down and looked at the snitch, feeling slightly bewildered.

It needed to *watch* her first?

Ginny thought about it for a minute, and placed another, stronger ward around her bed. The snitch still lay quiescent on the velvet. Its tiny wings spread like gossamer over it. As the scroll told her to do, Ginny touched it with the tip of her finger. The wings wisped up off the velvet, fluttered a few times, then leapt up into the air.

"It has a flesh memory," Ginny murmured.

With quick, efficient movements, she undressed. Her robes joined the other items of dress on her floor, and her knickers fluttered down onto them. The snitch buzzed around her head, her fingers, and her knees as she did. The noise it made sounded playful, and that made her feel a little less self-conscious. She hadn't figured on how odd it would feel to use something other than her own fingers, and she took another few breaths before she spread her legs and let her hand drift between them.

Just ignore the fact it's watching you.

She tickled the sensitive area just around her clit. Heat gathered where her fingers touched, and her breath did a little hiccup. The snitch flew back and forth in front of her, much more slowly than any regular snitch. It distracted her enough that five minutes later, she was still mostly dry and it just wasn't working the way it normally did.

Ginny bit her lip, thinking she knew exactly why it wasn't working. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" Ginny asked. Then she shook herself, laughing a little. It was a sex toy, not a legilimens. It was attuned to her touch, not to her thoughts. She could think about whatever she wanted to...

With the scent of honeysuckle all around her, Ginny drifted into a familiar fantasy. It was one she'd enjoyed since last Christmas, when he'd finally been healthy enough to come to the Burrow to celebrate, and Ginny'd caught his glance. There were many reasons why his eyes had lingered on her, none of them romantic, but Ginny'd felt a pulse of awareness that weakened her knees.

Her fantasy always began there with that moment.

Ginny touched herself again. Her skin was sensitive and heated to the touch, and when she tickled her clit again, this time the pleasure was... more.

Harry's eyes were on her. In the background, her family made various excuses to leave the room, leave the Burrow, and go to London. Ginny promised to take care of Harry... that whole time his eyes were on her. Her skin tingled as though he were touching her, brushing his hands up and down her arms...

"Why don't we listen to something?" he asked. They went to the sitting room, where he set a fire blazing with his wand and she put a record on.

Ginny traced her folds, spreading moisture around. When she breathed in, her own scent mingled with the honeysuckle. Her knees drew up, and Ginny eased a finger inside. In her fantasy, Harry was playing with her hair.

"It's so long," he said. Ginny sat on the floor, almost close enough to lean against his legs. Heat was between them, hotter than the fire in the grate. And it was Harry who mentioned it. His fingers brushed against her neck. "You feel hot."

"I am hot," she said. She turned her head to look at him and their eyes tangled again. Harry moved and settled next to her.

"Will you let me do something about it?" Harry asked.

"Open a window?" Ginny asked, licking her lips. Harry's gaze dropped.

Ginny stretched out and rubbed her clit with her finger. Pulses of desire spread from where she touched outward through her entire body. The ripples made her nipples harden further and goosebumps raise on her arms. Her fantasies of Harry throughout the years had evolved from the slightly more innocent fantasies of a fourteen year old, to fantasies that began with long speeches as to how and why he no longer saw her as a little girl but as a woman and then undressed her and made love to her to prove it.

Now, she mostly skipped the long speeches.

"No," said Harry. "I don't want to open a window. We both know it's not that kind of heat."

"I know," said Ginny.

That acknowledged, Harry tilted her chin up and kissed her. Gently, at first, then with greater and greater passion. Her lips opened beneath his, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Ginny moaned and tilted her hips upward. The small sounds of what her fingers were doing reached her ears and she drew in a great breath, held it, and pushed it out again. There was a faint buzzing in her ears — it took her a moment to remember the snitch, which was doing slow loops around her head.

Long, intense kisses later, Harry was tugging at her robes. His lips lifted off of hers, and when she made a small noise of disappointment, he tilted her head and kissed her neck.

His hand caught hers and pressed it against him. He was hard and hot and then they were naked together on the floor next to the Christmas tree.

"I need you," he gasped.

Ginny jolted when something small and warm pressed against her nipple. Her eyes flew open and she looked down to find the snitch fluttering on it, sending little pulses of pleasure straight to her clit. With wide eyes, Ginny watched it for a second, then tilted her head back and lost herself in the sensation.

The flutter of little wings raised goosebumps on her belly as it drifted lower and lower.

"Oh, fuck!" Ginny burst out when the snitch buzzed through the hair between her thighs, then moved without hesitation to vibrate right up against her clit. "Fuck!" It was unlike anything she'd felt before, warm and vibrating against her clit while she had her fingers pumping...

Sweat beaded on her brow and the pleasure was so intense she nearly forgot—

"Can I make love to you?" Harry asked. His hands were running all over her body and Ginny was writhing with need.

"I think I'm the one who is supposed to be taking care of you," she said, breathless.

"You will be," he said. He rolled her over and settled between her spread legs. His penis fitted against her, hot, heavy, and hard and Ginny couldn't helping running her hands over it. "Consider it my Christmas present."

"It's my Christmas present," she told him.

Then, eyes never leaving hers, he slid his penis inside her body. "I want you," he groaned. "I want you... I need you..."

Ginny came, hard, with the snitch pressing against her, just as her fantasy of Harry whispering he loved her while his penis filled her more than her fingers could. Her body jerked with the force of it and she cried out, clamping her thighs together. "Fuck," she swore. "Holy fuck."

When her body finally calmed down, Ginny looked down her sweaty body to where the snitch hovered just above the triangle of hair between her thighs. Her thighs had fallen apart again and the snitch bobbed in the air between them. Feeling almost baffled by how good that had felt, Ginny stared at it for long moments. Desire once more began to coil in her belly when she remembered that, in her fantasy, they had just gotten started. She could adjust her fantasy, even, have it take place on her birthday... at Hogwarts... at Grimmauld Place... there was no limit to what she and that beautiful little snitch could do. She felt fourteen again, and just figuring out how wonderful her body could feel, and she felt inspired…

"Let's go again," she told it.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Author's Note: It was very fun to take a peek inside Peverell Ginny's head. I hope you enjoyed this bit of smut!