Harry Potter and His Teenage Hormones

Author's Note: An huge thanks goes to my beta-reader, Chary, who fixes my commas when I'm in a coma, and who knows what I mean when I skip a word or six.

Harry Potter et cetera belongs to JK Rowling. This is fanfiction. But, like Chary, you knew that without my writing it.

In the night in my dreams, I'm in love with you,
Cause you talk to me like lovers do,
I feel joy, I feel pain
'Cause it's still the same,
When the night is done I'll be alone.

Another night, another dream, but always you,
It's like a vision of love that seems to be true,
Another night, another dream, but always you,
In the night I dream of love so true.

-- Another Night, Real McCoy

In the midst of the happy bustle and panic that enveloped the Burrow as everyone prepared for Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry Potter was miserable.

He could hardly believe how hard it was to avoid Ginny, who was not making any attempt at all to avoid him. She looked perfectly happy, complaining about bridesmaid dresses with Gabrielle, as though nothing had happened to completely destroy her life and take away any hope she had for happiness. That wasn't the worst part, though.

The worst part was Harry's sneaking suspicion that, despite his best intensions, he wasn't avoiding her at all. Harry found himself constantly staring at Ginny from across the room or the table. It reminded him of the time he had lost all the bones in one arm -- something in him was missing, and it hurt like hell.

Luckily for him, no one really paid much mind to how morose and withdrawn he had become. Or, if they had, they brushed it off as grief over Professor Dumbledore's death. The only one who had asked him about it was Ron, although Harry could hardly remember what his response had been. All that Harry knew was that it had been loud and angry and yet Ron didn't seem to hold it against him.

Even in his sleep Harry found no relief from his heartbreak. He was having a recurring dream every night.

He was standing in a nursery in front of a changing table. There was an infant boy in front of him and he was changing his nappy. There was a very sticky and dribbly toddler, who was nearly naked, and who was sucking on one wet fist, holding herself upright by grabbing onto his trouser leg. Behind him, sitting prim and proper on a cushion against the wall was a young girl of about six. Her bright red hair was done in bunches with green ribbon and she was wearing neat green robes that had lace and bows on. In her lap she held a large, children's picture book from which she was trying to read aloud a story to her younger brother. Her younger brother, for his part, was stretched out on the floor on his stomach in front of her with a dragon figurine in one hand and a unicorn in the other. He was playing something that required plenty of sound effects and paying no attention what-so-ever to his older sibling.

Harry, finished with the dirty nappy, picked the infant up in one arm and took the toddler by the hand.

"Primrose," Harry called to his eldest daughter.

"Yes, Daddy?" Looking up from the book, she answered him promptly and politely.

"Would you watch Galahad while I give Violet a bath, please," he said.

"Of course, Daddy," she answered. Harry smiled at her, and then down at Violet.

"Come on, bath time!" The toddler, Violet, laughed as Harry led her out the door and towards the bathroom.

Before he reached it, though, there was the sound of the Floo and Galahad ran out of the nursery shouting "Mummy's home! Mummy's home!" Primrose followed at a more restrained pace. Harry bent down and picked up Violet with his free arm and followed his children down the stairs.

Ginny stood in the kitchen and she glowed like an angel in Harry's eyes. She took his breath away even as there was soot on her chin, as she fussed with their son's packages. Orion, their eldest, was showing Primrose his new wand. Edward was telling Galahad all about their trip to Diagon Alley. Harry was so happy; he didn't know how he managed to not explode with it. He was surprised by the love and longing he had for this woman, his wife, hitting him all at once with such force it could have knocked him over.

Harry stepped up to Ginny and gave her a kiss and the dream shifted.

Now it was night, and their children were asleep. Harry and Ginny were in bed, too, but they weren't sleeping. The part of Harry that knew that this was only a dream was glad that he no longer shared Ron's room...

Every morning, when he woke up from the dream, he was filled with despair. Ginny wasn't in his arms.

The situation was getting desperate. Harry could no longer concentrate on anything that wasn't Ginny. He had a war to think about. He had his NEWTs to think about. He had the search for Voldemort's Horcruxes to think about. But none of those things were Ginny so they could not stay in his thoughts for more than a minute before disappearing.

Harry tried telling himself that he had to stop Voldemort to keep Ginny safe, so they could be together. He tried to convince himself that he needed good NEWTs for his future family's future. Nothing worked.

"Harry, dear."

Harry found himself pulled out of his thoughts as Mrs Weasley touched his shoulder and said his name again.

"Harry, dear." Mrs Weasley said for the second time.

"Yes, Mrs Weasley?" Harry answered.

"If you're done with breakfast, could you get Ron for me? The garden needs de-gnoming." Mrs Weasley spoke gently to him, as though he were about to break.

"Sure thing, Mrs Weasley." Harry hadn't touched either his tea or the toast on his plate, but he put the dishes in the sink anyway.

He didn't watch where he was going as he trudged up the stairs; he was too busy thinking about Ginny. Consequently, when she suddenly stepped out from her room he walked straight into her.

I should say sorry and keep on going. Harry thought. I should push her away from me and keep on going.

It was too late for any of Harry's second thoughts. Ginny was already in his arms and he was kissing her, madly, passionately, like a man possessed. He kissed her lips, her neck, that spot on her chin that always had the soot in his dream. He held her tightly, pulling her into him as closely as he could. Finally, he was whole again.

"Harry, oh Harry," Ginny cried beneath his mouth. "I know you have to go. Please come back to me."

"Please, please Ginny," Harry begged her between kisses. "Please don't die. I couldn't survive if you died too." Harry kissed her desperately. He could not let her go.

"Damn, mate." Ron whistled in amazement as the gnome sailed out of sight. "Where d'you get all this energy from, anyway? I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

Harry pounced on another fleeing gnome and looked up at his friend. "Today is wonderful!" he replied. Harry's grin stretched from ear to ear.

Ron regarded his friend skeptically for a moment. "Mu-um!" he hollered. "Fred and George made a pod-person of Harry!"