Now the milkman's on his way,
it's too late to say goodnight.
So, good mornin', good mornin'!
Sunbeams will soon smile through,
good mornin', my darlin', to you.
— Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, "Good Morning"
As with so many things, Ginny Weasley filed her insistence on losing her virginity in her own bed at The Burrow under "it seemed like a good idea at the time." Of course she'd met Draco earlier but they really came to know each other during that summer when he came to stay at The Burrow after his mother was killed and his father disappeared. They'd shared their first kiss in the fruit tree grove. For all its constraints, The Burrow rooted Ginny to the earth. She couldn't imagine something so important happening in an anonymous room at Hogwarts.
Besides, she'd known, deep in that place where one understands things, that she wanted Draco to be her first, that it wouldn't be a mistake even if they didn't last, but something to be looked back upon with wistful fondness. At 15, Ginny liked to think of her life as something to be looked back on with wistful fondness when she was a middle-aged writer made wise by the crucible of her wide-ranging experiences. At least, that's what she wrote on the title page of one of the very non-magical journals she'd purchased in Muggle London. It was Symbolic, and therefore Appropriate, that Draco
make her a woman steal her innocence end her chastity fuck her for the first time in her own childhood bed, over the Christmas hols.
"But I don't see how that will work," Draco said. "How can I sneak into your room when mine is on the other side of your parents?"
Ginny put her hands on her hips, awkward given that she was sitting at the Slytherin table at the time. "The same way everyone does. The tree."
"Ginny, it's December."
"Draco, you're an athlete. There's a sure thing at the other end of that climb. Step up."
"Hmph." He returned to his fish pie. "Why does this have to be at Christmas again?"
Ginny bit her lip. She knew Romance and Symbolism never got her far with him, so she tried another tack. "We have to do it before New Year's," she declared.
"Because Padma and I will be staying together and we can arrange for you and Ron to share a room—Draco don't—and then switch Weasleys." That she hadn't actually mentioned this to Padma was of course just a formality; it was the most logical plan. "I don't want the first bed we share to be at Patil House."
Draco nodded. The Burrow might be ramshackle but it was Ginny's Ancestral Home, and Draco understood the importance of Ancestral Homes. "Well, when you put it that way," he replied, "how can I refuse?"
Ginny tried not to tremble as she rechecked the lock on her door. Really, she was a Modern
Girl Woman and there was no call for nerves. Draco had slipped an early present into her room: a dark green negligee that made her feel quite posh and grown-up sexy. She busied herself plumping pillows until she heard a soft tap at her window.
She opened her window so Draco could jump in from the branch outside, a maneuver Draco had performed successfully a number of times in the late summer. It might have been the cold, or his supposedly non-existent nerves, or the rather impractical dressing gown he was wearing, but while his torso and right leg sailed through the window his left toe caught on the window frame and he pitched forward. He would have dove into the floor headfirst but Ginny quickly caught him, cushioning his fall. That they both managed to do this without crying out was, Ginny thought, something of a miracle.
Draco hobbled over to the bed while Ginny shut the window, though not before the wind had whipped her hair into her face. Turning to him she asked, "Are you all right?"
Draco scowled. "Of course," he whispered. "Did you put up the silencing charm?"
"Good," Draco said, then rubbed his foot a bit.
"What do you think?" she asked, twirling to show off the negligee.
"Oh," he said, looking up, and Ginny wondered if he'd plain forgot that he'd even given her the thing, or that she was wearing it, or indeed that she was in the room. At least now he'd let go of his foot. "You look lovely," he said, smiling and walking toward her. "And now I get to take it off." He pulled her close, one hand on her hip and the other buried in her hair, and kissed her soundly.
They stood and kissed, in no particular hurry for once. Ginny tried to remove his dressing gown but he had no interest in letting go of her, so it draped over his elbows. Draco was too busy enjoying the feel of her warm skin under the satin of the negligee, especially right where her hips flared out of her narrow waist. His fingers slid on the fabric, pulling it up slowly, inch by inch, until a handful of it was bunched at her hips and the hem had risen to her upper thigh. He released her lips, kissing lower on her chin and neck, looking over her shoulder to the long, pale, freckled legs now revealed.
Draco stepped back and slid his hands under her gown, against her skin, and as she raised her arms he pushed the fabric up over her head, tossing it onto the other bed. He put his own arms down, letting his dressing gown fall to the floor, then took her hands in his. "Ready?"
Ginny nodded, and then followed Draco under the covers. His hands were quickly everywhere, as usual, his mouth moving from her lips to her neck to her breast, and Ginny was too overloaded with what he was doing and what he was going to be doing to do much more than hold on to him. This much they'd done before; they'd been naked in a bed together, but that had been during the day and in a hotel room and this was at night in her own bed. She could feel him hard against her already and she was a little nervous and scared, even though this was Draco, and she knew him too well to be nervous, she thought. Only she was, and he didn't quite seem like himself, this single-minded boy devouring every freckle on her stomach. It didn't feel like it usually did, but a little off, like what they were doing weren't things in themselves, but way stations as they rushed to some inevitable conclusion. Draco had one hand between her legs and the other on the breast he wasn't currently kissing, which usually did the trick. She could feel herself getting wetter, as though her body was responding even if her mind wasn't.
Draco lifted his head. "It's supposed to be easier if you're on top."
Ginny wanted to joke that he just wanted to make her do all the work, but it felt like not a time for joking, really. She nodded, and they moved around until she was kneeling astride his thighs. Deciding she needed to just do it and not sit there getting more nervous, she sat up, grabbed hold of his hands for balance, and started to lower herself onto his cock. She had to take a moment to make sure it was going into the right place, but once it was, she slid down slowly. She felt a little frustrated that even though she'd been wet and open it still hurt; pain was the sort of thing that heroines in bad romance novels experienced, not Modern Women.
She looked down at her boyfriend, who had his eyes pressed shut. "Draco?"
"I can't," he grunted through clenched teeth. "I'm trying not to—don't talk!"
Ginny kept bending her legs, taking more of him inside of her, though with his closed eyes, enforced silence, and only point of contact being their clenched fingers (well, and the obvious) she felt a little alone, and less like they were about to have a fantastical connection. She slid down a little bit again, wincing but trying to think past the bit of pain to the feeling of him filling her, which was really quite pleasant, when suddenly his grip on her hands strengthened.
"Damnit!" he said, and let go of her to cover his face with his hands. "Damnit."
Ginny sank down until she was flush with his thighs, not sure what had just happened. It hurt less, she knew, and then that full feeling started to lessen. Oh, she thought, and rolled off his now-flaccid cock to lay on her back next to him.
"Ginny, I am so sorry," he said. "Ginny?"
"No, it isn't. I knew how important this was to you, and I screwed it up."
"You didn't do anything on purpose," she replied.
Draco rolled over to brush his fingers through her hair. "Gin, are you crying?"
"No," she lied.
"Come here," he said, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, where she nestled into his shoulder. He stroked her hair.
They lay their for a while, calming down, and then Ginny whispered, "Everything else we've done well straight away. I thought this would be the same."
"Everything else we've done, we haven't planned out," Draco replied. "Our first kiss we were lying in the mud in the garden."
"Don't brood, Ginny," Draco said. "Go to sleep. It will look better in the morning."
"Set the alarm," Ginny said, yawning.
Ginny soon fell asleep in Draco's arms, but he stayed awake, listening to her breathe and wondering what he could do to make it up to her.
Ginny opened one eye, suddenly panicking that the brightness in the room was the sun, which would have made it very late indeed and all but impossible for Draco to get back to his room and what the fuck happened to that alarm? But then she realized it was not the sun but the nearly full moon, shining right into her window as it sank down lower in the sky. She shifted, turning away from the glare of the moon and toward Draco, when her hip brushed against—well, that must be his erection, mustn't it? She moved away from it, startled, a movement that must have stirred him as well.
"Gin?" he asked, his arm sliding down her side. "What time is it?"
"Just after five," she replied, rolling over so that she faced her boyfriend.
"Mm. C'mere," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, as his arms pulled her close.
"Bit early to be thinking with your dick, isn't it?" she asked after they'd kissed.
"Bit early to be thinking with anything else, actually," he replied, moving his arm so that her head lay on his upper arm and then going back to snogging. His other hand slid along her collar bone, taking advantage of her nudity to cop an easy feel of her breast, his thumb brushing against her nipple.
"Think I'm easy now, do you?" she asked.
"No, just amenable," he replied.
She laughed a little, still kissing him, her hand rubbing along his chest. Their legs intertwined, shifted, and then she slid under him, stradding his legs. His hand had slipped down from her breast along her stomach to rest between her legs, rubbing at her clit, his fingers knowing the way after so many hurried fondlings at school. She felt languid, easy and slow, undulating under him, and then he turned, laying more fully on top of her, and she spread her legs wider. His hands slid up under her shoulders, and he pushed his body up, looking her in the eyes.
"Shall we?" he asked, smiling.
She smiled back. "Let's," she replied, reaching down to guide his hard cock into her open quim, ready as anything.
Her hands slid about on his back before settling on his arse, where she could feel his every movement as he thrust into her. They kissed, clumsily, sloppily, because they were paying more attention to the other, newer connection. She thought of nothing but how it felt, all over, to be so intimate with him, have a part of him inside her. She felt a little stirring deep inside her pussy, like when he felt her up only not, slower and less intense but spreading over more of her body than just her clit, like everything between her legs was warm and vibrating.
"Close," Draco whispered, "so close."
"Don't hold back," she said, kissing him again. "Let it go."
Draco gasped, trembling in her arms. It was all so wet, she couldn't feel him come this time, either, which surprised her; she'd always thought she'd be able to feel it rushing into her. He collapsed atop her, but just for a moment before he pulled out and rolled off to the side. He draped his arm across his eyes, resting until his breathing slowed. Then he looked over at Ginny and smiled.
"That was more like it," he said, and slid a hand over to her pussy.
She stopped his hand. "No, I'm okay. I think I came, actually."
"You think?" he asked. "But I didn't—"
"No, I think I came the other way, though I've never done that, so I didn't know you could and it felt different, but I think I did. But I don't think I'm making sense anymore." She giggled a little. "Don't get used to it. I might not manage that again."
"All right," he said. He glanced at the clock. "I should probably go."
"You should," she replied.
They kissed again, then rolled out of bed. Draco pulled his boxers and robe back on, while Ginny hid her negligee in her small carryall and slipped into her everyday nightgown.
Draco pulled Ginny to him, kissing her by the window. "See you at breakfast?"
"Try not to be so dreamy; you'll give us away."
She chuckled. "I'll try. Good night."
Draco looked out the window at the setting moon. "You mean, good morning." He flung open the sash and slipped out onto the tree branch, down to the ground, then back up the other tree to his own room. He blew her a kiss, then slipped inside.
Ginny pulled her window closed and sat down on her bed. She had two hours to get the smile off her face before she had to face her mother, but she wasn't sure she'd manage it. In fact, she wasn't even sure she wanted to.