Authour: kissmeimirish
Rating: PG-16
Pairings: Ginny\Sirius, Ginny\Dean Thomas
WARNINGS: Mention of underage sex, some BDSM references, slight language, teen angst.
Summmary: Ginny's different after Sirius.
Notes: It would help to read "Something Borrowed", the prequel to this, before you journey into this little pile of angst.
This is the summer after OOtP, and most of the term year of HPB. Sirius survived his trip throught the Veil.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the text I quote from HPB.
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I smile at the sight that meets my eyes as I walk into the living room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, surveying the man who's lying on the sofa as I sip my tea.
Sirius looks better naked then even *my* imagination came up with in it's most fevered daydreams- and he's fantastic at the activities usually associated with nudity. Fanbloodytastic.
I feel a delicious soreness between my legs when I cross the room and kneel beside Siruis, and it makes me shiver as memories briefly before my eyes.
Sighing, I bend to nuzzle Siruis' jawbone, inhaling his wonderful scent before kissing my way to his mouth. My kiss has the desired effect of rousing him, and his dark eyes blink at me sleepily.
"Good morning," I purr into his ear.
"Mmmorning," he responds. Groaning slightly, he pushes himself up to a sitting position, and I climb into the warm space now open beside him, careful not to spill the tea.
His arm comes around my shoulder, as he draws the blankets over our bare legs. For a few moments we're quiet, sipping the tea and snuggling.
"Mum's probably going to call soon," I say finally, breaking the silence.
"I'm aware of that," Sirius sighs. "This is completely wrong, you know."
I'm quiet. Yes, I know...but I'd been hoping he'd forget, at least for longer.
"Your mum- your parents would kill me. And your brothers would bring me back from the dead to kill me all over again." Pause. "So would Harry."
I snort. "Harry never so much as looks sideways at me."
"I've caught him a couple times," Sirius says. I'm not sure if I believe him.
"Anyway, he's chasing after that horrible Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho."
"Is he?" Sirius sounds intrigued. "He never mentioned her to me."
"He never really mentioned her to anyone. Assumed none of us could figure it out, no one could tell that he's crazy over her." There's more bitterness in my voice then I expected.
"Mmm," is all he says. "Ron told me you fancied Harry- was he wrong then?"
I blush. Damn you, Ron.
"I- I *did.* When I met him. But I couldn't even talk in front of him- it was silly really.
"I'm nobody. Why would Harry Potter notice me?"
"You're not a nobody." His voice is sharp and surprising. "You've faced Voldemort too, you fought at the Ministry, fought at Hogwarts, you're kind, you're talented, you're smart- just to name a few things."
I blush harder. "But-"
"Plus, of course, you're amazingly beautiful," Sirius adds, kissing the top of my head.
I surredder to him, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.
"What's to happen now?" I whisper, my head suddenly whirling with all that's happened in the past few hours, past few weeks.
"Mmmm...well, we've got to get you presentable. You're right about your mum- and though you look very sexy right now, it is a bit telling," he adds with a smile.
I elbow him, smiling back, and get up to stretch.
We decide to wash seperately, for though it would be wonderful to shower together, there's a good chance we wouldn't come out of it till tomorrow.
I dress in yesterday's clothes, except for my t-shirt, which I regard as I button Sirius' shirt (all the way) over my bra, rolling up the overlong sleeves.
Sirius is in the kitchen with a tray of toast and bacon when I return. Sadly, he's also dressed in his trousers and a loose shirt. He looks puzzled when he sees what I'm wearing.
"Can I keep this?" I ask, plucking at the shirt.
He hesitates. "Of course you can- but what-"
"Don't you remember how that Doxycide got all over my shirt, and you let me borrow one of yours?" I say, nonchalantly, tossing him my blue shirt. "Trade you."
He catches it and breathes it in. "Mmmm, smells like you," he grins.
"Of course it does!" I laugh, and help myself to the bacon.
So when Mum's face Floo's into the fireplace a short while later, she sees Sirius on one side of the table, me on the other, both dressed, and playing chess.
"We're back home now dear- what are you wearing?" she asks. I explain about the rouge Dox(ies), and prepare to step in the fire.
"Thanks ever so much, Sirius," Mum beams.
"Not at all, Molly. Drop in anytime," he says- catching my eye as he says it.
The next couple weeks pass in a blur for me. Of course, Harry's staying with us- and Post-Cho, of course, now that I've told Sirius..well, It's not like *I* have a chance with the Chosen One anyway.
But I haven't seen Sirius since our..sleepover. And now that I've had time to mull over our words, he never said outright that he wanted to see me again. See me like that. In fact, he made it clear how risky it was.
Yeah, he told me to "drop in anytime," or rather, he told Mum that. But how the hell would he expect me to get to his place? I'm just going to go over to Grimmauld Place, Mum, don't bother sending any clothes.I'm sure that'd go over wonderfully.
If he wants to see me, surely he'd be helping me with excuses or even coming to the Burror- right?
I keep to my room, mostly, or go on long walks in the fields around the house. Mum being terrified for our safety makes me want to get away from them all even more. On top of that, now that my body's had the touch of another person, a man, I can't really satisfy myself anymore. I need someone to talk to, somewhere to go, and I need a good fuck. I need Sirius.
I go through life thinking that for two months, through Harry's birthday, through mine, through all the things the summer brought. It's a good thing Mum was so paranoid and kept us all together when we went to Diagon Alley, or I would have surely wandered off, lost.
Now, as I lug my trunk onto the Hogwarts Express, I look forlornly back at the crowd. Last year, Sirius came to see us- well, Harry- off. This year, nothing..though maybe I shouldn't be surprised.
Dean Thomas catches up to me in the corridor.
"Hey," he says, his smile warm.
"Hi," I come back with.
He looks...taller. No, not that- he looks different. He doesn't look all gawpy and boyish like he did when he asked me out last term. He looks like a man.
Let's just say I've come to appreciate the difference between 'boy' and 'man.'
So when he asks if I want to get a compartment, I say sure, just let me find Luna first. Dean bounces off down the hall, my eyes glued to his tight ass, shown off well in his faded Muggle jeans.
I whistle mentally, and track down Luna, wondering if she's gone insane yet.
A couple other Ravenclaw girls from my year stop me in the corridor on my way back to meet Dean, and we stand for a moment chatting. Someone taps me on the shoulder; surprised, I turn round to find Harry, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Fancy trying to find a compartment?" he asks.
I think quickly. Yes, this is as good a chance as any I'm ever going to get with the Chosen One, but Dean..
"I can't, Harry, I said I'd meet Dean," I say, trying to sound chirpy and happy like a girl who hasn't seen her boyfriend all summer would. "See you later," I finish, and leave, walking quickly towards where Dean had gone.
I'm happy to find that Dean's compartment is empty, save for him, Arnold and my trunk. He must have moved them, aww, how sweet.
"So, how was your summer?" Dean asks as I settle down across from him.
"Fine," comes my automatic response. "Mum's going a bit mad with all this worry, but that's not exactly new."
Dean chuckles. "All our parents are. Even mine, and they're Muggles. They read the Daily Prophet enough to figure out something's going on."
I don't want to talk about politics, or the impending war. I've heard enough of that the past two years. "How was yours? Meet any girls down there by the sea?" I ask, teasing.
Dean chuckles again. "Well, not a girl as such. She's eighteen, on vacation from Brittany."
"Oh?" I quirk an eyebrow jestingly. "Go on."
"Well- a gentleman can't kiss and tell now, can he?" Dean teases right back.
"So you shagged her!" I laugh, my first real laugh all day. "I thought you seemed different."
"Hey, hey, I wouldn't put it like that! More like- she dragged me into a cave one afternoon and had her dirty way with me," he says, still laughing. "But you can't rape the willing now, can you?" he finishes, quite seriously.
"Mmm," is all I say. "So you got a girlfriend then?"
"Umm- no. She- well, she didn't want anything more then a conquest, really, and she does live a bit too far away for my liking," Dean says. "So no, I don't have a girlfriend."
The statement hangs in the air, mingling with the question he asked before term ended last year.
"Well...I don't have a boyfriend," I venture. "Maybe we should comfort each other in our supreme lonliness?"
Dean smiles. "I'd like that very much."
And so it was. Dean Thomas, Gryffindor sixth year, roommate to my brother and the "Chosen One", was the knight in shining armor to my insatiable sex drive. Over the first two months, when everything was going smoothly, we must have fucked in every single broom cupboard in the castle. Dean liked the ones with a bit of risk especially, the ones where you could hear other students walking past just on the other side of the thin door, the ones where one muffled shout as you came in hot ecstasy would give you away.
Me, I liked it best when we could get our dorms to ourselves, because I found out I like to be tied to the legs of our four-poster beds.
I guess...if we're being honest here.. the sex was what made and broke us as a couple. We both wanted it, both needed it, but after Sirius- nothing could satisfy me. I started asking Dean to go harder and harder, push me to the limits, and I could see it disturbed him.
He started feeling...guilty, I suppose the word is. When he tied me up and treated me like a whore at night, he acted like too much of a gentleman the next day, opening doors, helping me through the portrait-hole, and I didn't want a gentleman. I want- no, I *need* a man, a man who'll be there, strong and knowledgeable, but a man who knows himself well enough to be comfortable controlling another.
Dean...he's sweet, and the sex is all right. Not fantastic, just all right. It's never as hard as I need. Never as rough. He doesn't scrape my soul out through my cunt and devour it up on a little silver platter.
He doesn't possess me.
In a way, we were doomed from the start.
Funny how I never really knew what people meant by "autopilot" until I got with Dean.
We had an enormous row last night. I know it wasn't him that bumped me coming through the portrait hole, but I needed an excuse to yell at him. We had gone to our favorite broom closet a few corridors away from the common room and..he just..couldn't do it. He was trying to dominate me, he really was, but the way he called me names was halfhearted and weak. It wasn't making him hard, and I could see in his eyes it wasn't for him. Suddenly I felt like a total bitch. I decided to use it to my advantage.
"You don't try to please me!" I found myself screaming at him.
"That's not true! I've tried so hard to do what you want, treat you like a dog, I've tried just for you! It doesn't get *me* off!" he yells back.
"So how is that my fault?" I sound spoiled and selfish.
There we go, back and forth, till I'm hoarse and he's exhausted.
"Fine! Fine! We-are-*finished!*" I yell, turn on my heel, and stalk out of the tiny closet.
People act sympathetic or outraged towards me the next day; I'm the saint or the slut. Whatever. I'm just Ginny. Or am I.
Sometimes I wonder if Ginny got forgotten with my shirt in Grimmauld Place all those months ago.
Alright, the plot thickens. I promise it goes back to Sirius\Ginny in the next one! This was just getting long enough. Thank you for reading, please review and tell me your thoughts!