They'd stayed up late the night before, and Ginny was tired, but trying to be polite to the hostess. These people are really into their gin, Ginny thought. Her lips twitched as she looked sidelong at Harry. Her shoulders firmed. They could be polite for a couple hours, maybe have lunch in one of the restaurants on site, and then go back to their room. Ginny'd noticed the sashes affixed to the headboard, and a vague plan was forming around them.
They entered the glass lift.
"—you'll be able to see them, but they won't see you—"
Ginny looked at the witch. What an odd thing to say. Even odder was the fact the lift had a bed in it. A bed? In a lift to tour a gin distillery? Before Ginny could ask for clarification, the door was shut, heavy wooden doors were opening, and the lift moved through them.
Shock was her first response. Then: "Harry, I don't think this is a gin distillery," she said. An embarrassed giggle escaped out of her.
It was... surprisingly tasteful.
A wizard and two witches were posing in front of a magical backdrop. An elderly wizard took pictures of them, ordering them about, putting them in different poses. This all would have been fairly normal had the three of them not been posing naked.
"Now, put your hand on his penis," the photographer said briskly. "It'll be obscured, just like you want, but we want to evoke his arousal."
"Thanks. The kids get into everything these days," said the wizard.
The older blond woman nodded. "We don't want them to see mummy and daddy with their favorite witch."
"Buh," said Harry.
Ginny watched, cheeks growing redder, as the photographer moved them about, having the witches kiss each other passionately while the wizard looked on.
"All right, that's it for the waterfall pool," said the photographer. He flicked his wand, and the waterfall and pool disappeared, and a rather lifelike version of the Leaky Cauldron snapped into place. "Oh, I do apologize, you specified you wanted Hogwarts, didn't you? The Great Hall, I believe? Hufflepuff, wasn't it?"
The Great Hall appeared, complete with the head table, illusions of professors sitting at it, and magnificently rendered Hufflepuff hangings. One witch lay down on the table, legs splayed (but not revealing anything to her audience), and stretched out with a laugh. Her friend wrapped a thick, Hufflepuff scarf around her wrists.
"Where it all began for us," said the other witch cheerfully. "Remember, Rome?"
"Vividly," said the wizard.
Ginny's cheeks were burning. It was erotic, she was uncomfortable, it was beautiful, she couldn't believe it was happening, she didn't really want to see this, and she couldn't quite look away.
"Hufflepuffs," Harry said. There was a tendril of giddy laughter in his tone.
The lift smoothly moved forward, out of the enchanted place where people posed. It made Ginny think of the secret cupboard in Grimmauld Place. "I think Sirius's parents probably came here?"
"Came here?" Harry asked. "I bet they built the place."
Ginny laughed. "I bet this whole estate used to be the Black ancestral home. I always wondered why they only had the house in London."
"I bet it still is, and that's where all the money comes from," Harry countered.
"Sirius's Uncle Alphard used to own it," said Ginny.
While they joked about the Black family proclivities, the lift brought them to a new room. Ginny had her back to it, and she saw when Harry closed his eyes. "What, you're not going to look?"
"Afraid to," he said promptly.
Ginny squeezed his arm. "I'll protect you from all the bad witches and wizards pretending to have sex," she said playfully. Then she turned around, and her breath caught. Ginny choked.
This was no pretense. The lift had brought them into an enchanted garden, the likes of which featured in many a Beedle the Bard tale. There was even a fountain. And on a wide, flowery swing, an older couple made love to each other as though they were the only ones in the world. Ginny's eyes widened. The wizard's salt and pepper hair was tied back in a queue, and his hands were all over his wife's ample curves as they swung and pumped.
She could tell the moment Harry opened his own eyes. His hand gripped hers. His palms were slightly damp. A door opened elsewhere in the room, and a trio of witches wearing nothing but fairy wings danced in, squealing, pinching each other, and pausing every once in a while to give each other small kisses.
The lift took them onward, through many more rooms, showing them many other couples (and more) cavorting with each other. The further on they went, the stranger things got, until Ginny was staring in open-mouthed disbelief at a wizard chained to a wall, being whipped by a witch in a tight leather corset and nothing else. She was wearing a mask that was reminiscent of a Death Eater, and Ginny and Harry exchanged identical looks of distaste.
"Gross," they said together.
A little shudder went through her, and she was relieved when the lift moved on. She understood everyone had their private fantasies, but there was something that disturbed her on a deeper level at the wizard's mouth contorted in pain while a witch dressed as a Death Eater whipped him. It was too real, too soon.
All the vicarious enjoyment she'd felt at watching others enjoy themselves, it disappeared at this last scene. And when the last room — and she was relieved to know it was the final room — came into view, and Ginny realized the occupants were having a tremendous time at their orgy, she had lost all interest in the tour.
The only thing of interest was a giant scoreboard. At the very top were the names RITA, CHARLIE, and VINCENZO.
Harry snorted. "Think it's the Rita and Charlie we know?" he asked.
"Yes," Ginny said without hesitation. This explained Charlie's odd mood at Christmas. And surely Bill and George had heard of this place as well... that's what those looks had been for.
"They could have told us," Ginny and Harry said at the same time, with identical indignation. Then they laughed at each other. What would Charlie, Bill, or George said? Hey, little sister, didn't know you and Harry were so kinky! Ginny's cheeks burned, and hilarity welled up.
The tour ended the same place it began: in the sumptuous lobby. Harry grabbed a bottle of gin, and showed her the label. He obscured shadowy bits, but Ginny recognized Charlie's hair and build. She shook her head. I guess he isn't too busy with his dragons to have a girlfriend, he's just not into settling down, she thought.
"I hope you enjoyed the tour," the hostess bustled over. She had several brochures in her hand. "I hope you found something you both like, and now that you know what your options are, you can make an informed decision as to how you want the next two days to proceed—"
"Pardon me for interrupting," said Ginny. Her tone was polite but firm. "But I do believe Mr. Porter and I have exactly what we need in our own room, and don't want to make any reservations. I trust you can have meals sent up?"
"Not even photographs?" the hostess asked in disbelief. To Ginny's annoyance, her eyes flew to Harry, as though she needed confirmation from the wizard, that no, they did not want to engage in intimacies in front of anyone, not even a photographer.
"Not even photographs," Harry said. His tone was a little less polite. "Just meals, please. Oh, and a bottle of gin, if you please." He pointed to the Charlie bottle. "Just not that one."
Ginny was greatly relieved when they arrived back in their room. They both flung themselves on the bed, and covered their eyes with their forearms. It took long minutes for her to process what she'd seen, to try to give it context. The one thought that kept intruding was how happy she was that Harry liked to keep things private, that he was never going to be comfortable taking off his kit and having his way with her in front of others. She didn't want anyone else seeing him like that.
"You're mine," she murmured.
"Yes," he said simply.
They lay facing each other. Ginny stroked his arm.
"I had no idea—"
Ginny laughed. "I know. The look on your face..."
Harry made a face. "I know people can get up to anything they want, as long as everyone's okay with it, but God. I can't stand the idea of anyone else seeing you naked like that." Then, obviously remembering that the showers after Harpy games were communal, he hurried to add: "I mean sex naked. Not just normal naked."
"You mean you don't want to see me fondling two other women?" Ginny smiled wickedly. She flicked a glance down at his groin. The three cavorting fairies had been the only thing to prod his interest, and — come to think of it — the painting of the three witches in the secret cupboard at Grimmauld Place was the only naughty portrait that he bothered to look at.
There was a high flush on his cheekbones.
She stroked his jaw. "It was an erotic sight, it's okay to admit that."
His breath whooshed out and he nodded. "And you liked the swing. I can tell when you react to stuff."
"It looked like fun. God knows, it would be easier than trying it on a broom again."
Ginny began undressing him. She did it slowly. "I'm so lucky you were never serious with anyone before this, before us," she said. "I'm glad everything we do is just between us, and we've never done it with anyone else."
"And never will," Harry said fervently. His eyes burned into hers.
He reached for her, but Ginny shook her head, feeling suddenly impulsive and daring. She flicked her wrist, and the scarves attached to the headboard slipped down, and wrapped themselves around her wrists. This was the one thing she'd seen today that genuinely disturbed her, and she wanted fresh, clean images in her head.
"Tell me to stop if you want," she murmured.
"You're unstoppable," he countered.
Ginny grinned at that, and flicked her wand again. The rest of his clothes and hers vanished. His penis lay on his thigh, and stirred with interest even as she watched. It hardened, lengthened, and pointed straight at her. Ginny bit her lip. It was a sexy sight, watching Harry grow hard for her. Knowing that they were about to create passion together. It bobbed up and down as she watched, and his stomach muscles quivered.
At first, Ginny kissed all the places where the poor wizard in that last room had been whipped. Then she forgot the scene she was trying to erase, and just enjoyed Harry. She flicked her tongue against his nipples. His chest rose up and down. She covered every inch of him with kisses, while he held still.
When she finally got to his penis, he groaned low and loud. It jerked against her in anticipation. Ginny settled in a comfortable spot, wrapped one hand around his shaft, and sucked him into her mouth.
If Ginny was trying, she could generally get him to come in three minutes — this was if there was a time crunch, or they were in a spot they could get caught. But today Ginny used everything she'd learned about his body to heighten his pleasure, and elongate the moments before he filled her mouth. She brought him to the edge with a rhythm she knew he liked, then eased off and made it about the sensation of her hands gliding over him, teasing him. She looked into his eyes as she moved her hand up and down his shaft, resting her jaw, and keeping him from coming.
"God, it's so good, Ginny," he said hoarsely. His arms kept yanking restlessly at the scarves, but Ginny refused to free him.
Ginny licked from the base to the tip, swirling her tongue around it, and this time, when her mouth closed around him, she let the pleasure in him build and build and build until he was shouting "GINNY!" in a strangled voice, and salty fluid that was uniquely him flooded into her mouth. Ginny swallowed all of it, milking him with her hand, while his body twitched with pleasure under her.
Ginny sagged against him, managed to flick her wand, and his hands came down to rest gently in her hair. Ginny grinned against his softening penis. "How was that?" she asked.
"Brilliant," he rasped out. "Brilliant. I might've just died."
Ginny smothered a chuckle. Harry was never more grateful than after a blow job. Finally, she raised her head. "How about we try out some of that gin while we hide in here the rest of the weekend?"
They did.
Harry disappeared the morning they left, and returned with a sheepish grin and gift-wrapped box. "I had to get it."
Ginny opened it to find her very own shadowy outline. Not naked, but with robes fluttering out behind her, her arms thrown in the air in victory. Ginny knew exactly which picture he used, the one after the Harpies beat the undefeated Wimbourne Wasps; he'd said repeatedly it was his favorite picture of her, and she knew he kept it in his wallet.
He'd bought her her own private label, and it boldly declared itself "The Unstoppable Gin." "It was what I could think of," Harry said, shrugging and looking slightly embarrassed.
"It's perfect," Ginny said. She pulled him closer and wondered if they just might have time for one more round of love-making before they checked out. "I love it. I love you."
His arms closed around her, and for long minutes, the gin sat forgotten on a dresser. This time, it was Ginny's hands that were bound.
xxxxxxx
Author's Note: I am pretty sure this is the last of the Christmas presents. I do want to write a full epilogue for Yellow Submarine, but I started to outline it, and just couldn't work up the oomph. I have been thinking about it, though, as I am rereading it, and I think some of the tenderness between YS H/G is reflected in this. I think I could probably commit to posting it by Valentine's Day.
I think Unstoppable Gin might just be the leaping off point for another story, one that is H/G, of course. I had this idea that while Twisted Cedars is a sex-positive location for witches and wizards who have different proclivities (and H/G are both territorial, so are not tempted to partake) there are other places that are not so nice. Seems like it could be a hotbed for dark sexual politics, and Harry is an Auror, so. I like to make one or two Weasleys or Sirius the secondary focus of a story, just because it makes it easier make shit fit together, gives the story movement, etc. Like, when I start rewriting Shadowed Patronus, I know that I need to build George up a little more. Draft one was 91k words written in about two months, so I am hoping draft two will take about a month.
Charlie is like my white whale or Everest. How do we include Charlie in a story? I couldn't figure it out until this little accidental sex dungeon story popped into my head. Yes, yes. Make it dark and kinky. So anyway. I have a lot of H/G stuff on the horizon, including more fairy tales, and a story to bind them. And then the sex weird story with Charlie as main sidekick.
Hope you'll stick around for at least some of those!
Love,
Ella