This is canon, believe it or not... well, not the pairing, but I'll make it fit in with the sequence of the books. In this Ginny's underage... don't like, don't read! Rated M for underage sex, masturbation, and mature themes.

Ginevra Weasley was far from innocent. The youngest girl in a house of six older brothers, she'd had her fair share of rough play. There was always someone yelling, several people wrestling, foul language, and someone doing something disgusting. Burps, farts, and scratching were always present.

But they still treated Ginny like she was something of a princess. Just because she was the only girl didn't make her some kind of angel. Far from it- it gave her a kind of irreverence for anything pure and perfect, like herself. She was tired of hearing all the girls in her dormitory talking about their "precious gifts" and how when they slept with the "love of their life" (many times, these girls insisted that it would be on their wedding night) it would be perfect, with candles and rose petals and champagne and blah blah blah. It would hurt and he'd get off n ten seconds and you'd lay there with your feelings hurt. Especially if you built it up that way.

So Ginny was no princess. But she was curious.

And not thinking her first time would be perfect was different than not wanting sex... and her definition of perfect was very different than the other girls'. She could care less about candles and what her nightgown looked like and what they ate for breakfast the next morning... no, she wanted someone to take her and show her how it was done. She wanted old-fashioned, primal, sweaty, screaming sex.

She realized this the summer she and her family moved to Grimmauld Place. She couldn't say she'd ever thought of men before. She'd been more concerned with boys, her crush on Harry having taken up almost her entire concentration. But when they'd moved in with the illustrious Sirius Black, Ginny was introduced to someone entirely new. Far younger than her parents, but far older than anyone at Hogwarts.

He was tall, he was strong, he was a man. And he was handsome, goddammit. She found herself blushing in his presence every time he said anything to her, whether it be "pass the salt," or "has Dumbledore stopped by today?"

She was nervous all the time, but she was finally beginning to understand herself. She didn't want to go with any old boy the first time, no... she wanted a man, and it was this one she wanted. But she knew she was far, far to meek to ever do anything about it. Her fantasies could keep her occupied... they had to. The thought of doing anything about her desire was just... impossible.

In romance novels, women set their eyes on the men they wanted, put on sexy lingerie, and told him to follow them upstairs, and they always, always did. But Ginny was confident if she tried that, Sirius would call her crazy and wonder what was wrong with her. Or worse, he'd call her a kid. She almost spit, thinking the word. And, to top it all off, there would be at least three red-headed audience members viewing the entire situation.

So Ginny thought about him- or rather, obsessed over him. She dreamt about him more than she'd like to admit, dreamt of him doing things to her body that she'd blush about in the daylight. He was beautiful, he was rugged, he was a convict... Whether or not he'd committed the crime- which she knew he hadn't- the status was there, and it was savory to her.

"I think I'm over Harry," she said to Hermione one night when she pulled the extra pillows off her bed.

"Really?" the older girl said, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah. I mean... I don't know. It was just a crush and it's not like he'd notice me anyway," Ginny said. "I think I'd be better off focusing on other things."

"Good for you, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling. "And who knows? Maybe, if you forget about him for awhile, he might finally notice you. You know, if you act more yourself?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, either way. He was an idiot for not noticing you, but maybe he's for the best."

"Sure," Ginny said, yawning and turning over. Thoughts of Sirius filled her mind as the lights went out, and her face colored. In her dreams, he wanted her. He dominated her, and she always recieved him... he was like a hero to her. She had dreams of being lost in the streets of London, being harassed by strangers, and having him save her, then taking her to an inn... They'd spend the night there, she and her savior...

She was never the type of girl who wanted to be saved. But, she realized as her fantasies of him took a more mature turn, almost every girl does. At least a little bit.

To be continued!