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HP stories following Canon including OotP >> Harry Potter and the Insanely Inappropriate Infatuation. by loopmutnauq

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Scent of sandalwood...

Brief flash of red...

Something moved a small, fluid motion...

Harry tightened his grip, not really sure why, but not wanting to let go. Pointless to let go really, why would anyone want to...

A soft sigh ….. or maybe he imagined it …...

More motion. This time distinct, definitive. Almost …... almost assertive.

It seemed to mirror his intentions, his need rather, to get close …... or was that just wishful thinking.

Warmth.

Another flash of red. A fiery, intense red. A beautiful, lingering red. Yes, warmth ... what he had been missing all along, all his life...why he... why he needed to get close.

What was it giving him this warmth?, why was it giving him this warmth?, and why was 'warmth' the only possible way to describe it, even though 'warmth' did not quite do the sensation justice?

Wasn't all that important really, so long as it didn't stop. He needed that warmth, that sensation. He did not want to wake up, not when...

Wake up?

Why had that occurred to him... was he asleep?...

Felt too surreal... too intense...too happy, for it not to be a dream. Truly, that was the only logical conclusion now that he thought about it...

But if it was a dream, it wouldn't last, he realized. Dreams tended to fade, to be forgotten...

He couldn't forget this, he realized, panicking now... wishing that it never happened now that he knew it had to be forgotten. Why had he been so curious?, why so many questions?,... aargh!...

why couldn't he just have lain back and enjoyed it?... the warmth...the sensation.

He had to do something to …... wait... maybe he could remember it ….. he did not forget all his dreams after all... few of the really bizarre or blissful ones still remained with him... Yes... he could salvage it...

Almost as soon as the hope bubbled up within him, it was dashed. Brutally. This wasn't a regular dream …... there was nothing...well...solid about it. It was just a ….a …. stew!. Yes …. a stew... albeit a complex one... swirling with these... these... argh!... these sensations. Granted it had smells,

Sandalwood most notably.

Also colors. That fiery red.

Maybe even a hint of touch.

But that was hardly enough was it? His dreams weren't normally like this, they would always have something more tangible to latch onto...like a person, an object, a situation. If this newfound warmth was going to cause him this much anxiety, then maybe it wasn't worth it, maybe he should just abandon the effort.

"Why on earth would you even think that... fight for it... you need it... you know that."

Voices now ….. what on earth?...

But...wait...a voice meant a person...something corporeal...

Maybe... just maybe... there was a chance. All he had to do was lend a face, so to speak, to the beautiful, disembodied voice.

But that woul... wait a minute... beautiful...where had that come from...

His toughts drifted …... hard to keep track of those, wasn't it?...

Sense of familiarity.

The voice?...

But who... he should be able to place it... he knew that voice... knew it well... but who...DAMN IT!...

Frustration.

Silence...

Warmth.

Ah! yes. Warmth.

Why was he so agitated before? He couldn't understand it... something important?...

What could be more important than this?...

"Holding onto it...Fight for it!"

That voice…... again...why wouldn't it leave him alone.

It was beautiful though... familiar too... why on earth could that be.

Urgency. Panic. Dread. All at once.

Overwhelming, it was...

Why those sensations, what happened to the beautiful warmth?

He would have to stop using beautiful so much...

But where had he used it before.

Didn't matter …...

"FIGHT FOR IT!"

There it was again... curious thing it was... why the sense of...

"PAY ATTENTION TO IT...FIGHT FOR THE WARMTH"

Then more gently... "For the warmth"

The voice was agitated. Beautiful too... Even more so when agitated.

It had mentioned fighting for the warmth... why... it was right there...

No …... wait it wasn't …... where could... no …..

Urgency. Panic. Dread.

A flash.

Remembrance.

A stab of relief... there was yet a way. All he had to do was lend a corporeal form to the voice …... something tangible at the very least.

But what...

Wait... the smell... the sight...the …... the touch... Maybe he could lend those to the voice...

He tried it. It fit. Beautifully...Just Beautifully.

Deja vu...why?...

"No questions, no curiosity... you're just making this harder for yourself...just...just accept"

Beautiful... but beneath that... there was something else... just out of his grasp...

what was it …...

"The fact that I makes sense...?"

Yes that was it, it made sense. No questions...just acceptance.

Focus. New found, unparalleled focus.

He noticed something...the voice said I. For the first time, it said I.

I.

The self, The ego.

Voice merged with sensations even better.

Joy.

Warmth.

Yes...Warmth.

Stronger this time. Breathtaking even.

He could tell his problems were solved. The sensation was here for keeps now. The glorious warmth.

He could tell that the recognition of that little 'I' fact was pivotal. Now he could truly attach a face to the voice. But who... It had been so familiar.

Why was the voice silent now?

"No questions remember, just let it wash over you...accept..."

He did. He loved it. He didn't want to let go. Not now, not ever.

Wow...he was growing strangely attached to the voice. It was always right. And so beautiful.

Was this perfection?

"Again with the questions...!" it rang, bemusedly.

Was it just him, or was the voice closer this time. Closer... Definitely closer. Alarmingly close. He could feel it's breath on his neck.

Breath?, Neck?...but that would mean...

"Corporeal forms... you're right... it would..." the voice said.

"Then I'm actually here, the dream is .…..solidifying" he said, sensing the ability to speak finally. Sensing the ability to speak?... what, that doesn't...

"It makes sense" the voice said calmly, near his neck, almost as if to silence his train of thought. The tone wasn't offensive, but the finality was unmistakable. No room for argument whatsoever.

Silence.

Beauty.

Warmth.

"Notice how you said 'I'm'?... assertion of the 'self', wouldn't you say."

"Then I'm physically here...aren't I?"

"Not so much 'physically' as a mental projection of your physical self"

"Hmm ….. Where have I heard that before?"

"Wouldn't know... Does it really matter?"

In the banter, he almost didn't notice, but there was definitely a person there...pretty close ….. unnervingly so. He could feel the form. It was lying there next to him, on what?... what? ...grass... a meadow...wait...was it …...cuddling?...yes it was...it was definitely cuddling.

SIGNIFICANT cuddling.

The voice? …... did it belong to the person?...because the voice was decidedly female... Then he could only surmise...

"You have yourself a decidedly feminine person SIGNIFICANTLY cuddling you." it, or rather... she, sighed, cuddling some more and shifting closer.

He blushed a hard and deep red.

"Yet you just hold me harder" she said, almost in a singsong.

True enough. He didn't want to let go. The warmth would disappear if he did. It would. He just knew it would.

A sigh. More... what was the word …...

"Dreamy?" she suggested

...Yes...more 'Dreamy' than before.

Silence.

Cuddling.

SIGNIFICANT cuddling.

Shifting.

Sighing.

Blushing.

"I know it's nice having a girl cuddle you and all harry but …... honestly... don't you think you're too...umm..."

She paused, uncertain, but still smilingly, he could sense.

"'Happy' …...lets call it... about this" she finished.

She addressed him as Harry. That was nice. But what was that bit about being too happy?...Then it struck...

If he was red before, he had no idea what color he was now. Not that either of them would know the precise shade. Sight was still being elusive.

"Honestly harry you can't even see me..." she continued.

Almost as if on cue something clicked. He opened his eyes.

"But it is, admittedly, flattering..." she went on, oblivious to the new development.

"Wait shh... I can see now." He blurted. He couldn't see anything at first. Then it came into focus quite quickly. There was sky.

Lots of sky.

It was beautiful. And with all the warmth coursing through him, no rather, them... it was... unbelievably amazing. He'd never felt anything like it.

Perfection.

Yeah... this must be it.

"It is amazing …... isn't it?" she said softly, against his neck.

He shuddered. Pleasurably. There was an undeniable, inherent sense of pleasure in the act. And for the life of him, he had no idea why.

"God …... and you haven't even seen me yet." She paused, thoughtfully...

"You know, I wouldn't recommend it ….you looking at me I mean... I have this feeling it would be pretty...

She paused, longer this time, contemplating whether she was above the joke or not...

" Oh just make it... you as good as did anyway..." He said, only with feigned irritation.

" 'HARD' for you" she blurted out, giggling.

The spots disappeared, his eyes adjusted, and not able to stand it anymore, he turned her over to get a glimpse,all the while refusing to relax his grip on her. It only made sense with the warmth, and without that, he felt he would crumble. She felt so right in his arms. So fitting. So...

"Perfect" she whispered.

Pleasurable shudder.

"You have got to stop completing my sentences..." He began playfully, but stopped abruptly.

He saw her now. In all her glory. God... she was beautiful. By merlin... everything about her seemed so perfect , so congruous with the warmth...it was like she complemented it. It was like she was the warmth.

That made sense. It was the only explanation, it had to be. Now that he looked at her, it seemed like the only way he could experience the warmth again was through her. Or had it been through her all along. Was he panicking? No... of course not …. why...why on earth would he do that.

It didn't matter, not now... not when he couldn't take his eyes of her. Not when he wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

Sense?...sense?... how could he make 'sense' when 'sense' was such a triviality now. He had never realized before now how literally someone's world could explode. He had read about it sure, but this...this nothing could have prepared him for .God... she was... she was...wait...it couldn't be...not...no way...

"Ginny...?" he said, rather weakly. Hoping against all hope that she would just say 'no' …... no matter how unlikely...just... say 'no'.

That was all he needed. Things would go back to normal, to the way they were. He didn't really need the warmth...did he?... he would live. He had before.

Silent prayer.

He would never wish for anything again...ever...just please...

But her slow, dangerously sexy nod was all the confirmation he needed. And she was biting her lower lip.

Very unhelpful.

Choice expletive.

Oh... his world was about to explode alright...explode good.

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