Ginny was torn...but she decided to go with her more shallow instinct first and pulled his t-shirt up. Shallower still, she had to swallow back that familiar thought that if the girls could see what the great Harry Potter looked like shirtless--he'd become exponentially more desired than he already was.
But he was all hers, she thought, rubbing his hard stomach and pulling him closer. She turned a bit sad: he was all hers, and she had to take care of him. Harry just...seemed... Her mother said it was natural for Harry to be affected deeply by the war. But there was just...something about him, a sadness maybe, that made Ginny want to hold him in her arms for days and not let go. But he was so good at hiding it, disappearing, being so stoic that you could almost pretend...it was just hard.
"Oh, sweetie" she said, stroking over his cheekbones with her thumbs. "That just sounds like a mountain's worth of things. Did they all go alright?"
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