For disclaimers, warnings and pairing notifications, see Chapter 1
Author Note: I know the idea of Harry having to fend off girls on Love Potions is a sad old plot point that has been done to death, but really I couldn't write a story like this and not include it. I have to admit that much of the inspiration for this chapter comes from another fic entitled Pheromone, My Lovely by an author named Cherazor (story id: 2744774). This is an excellent story that comes with my hearty recommendation. Sadly it's not been updated in almost 16 months, not even with an I'm alive! note by the author, so I think it may be abandoned, although if you happen to read this Cherazor, I hope you find the inspiration or the time, or whatever it is that you're lacking to finish it. I really want to see how it ends! It's a H/Hr, just to warn you all, but it's one of those rare H/Hr stories that includes Ginny and does not portray her as a psycho, or a cold calculating bitch or an obsessive fan-girl which is a merit in itself in my humble opinion. I'm considering writing a H/Hr where Ginny is a perfectly normal girl with no problems whatsoever who just has to accept that she has to get over her crush who does not feel the same way about her, just to prove that such a plotline is in fact doable. Okay rant over, my prejudices on this matter are starting to become a little too obvious, but seriously, check the story out even though it may be abandoned, what's there is a great piece of work. Now we turn to Hogwarts, where things are about to get a little crazy for Harry…
The rest of the Autumn Term passed quickly for both Harry and The Gang. Unfortunately for all concerned, The Gang had had little success, even with McGonagall studiously ignoring anything suspicious that occurred in relation to Harry. An ill-thought out plan that had involved Luna shadowing Ginny and Harry with a sprig of mistletoe to pull out at the opportune moment had backfired spectacularly when The-Boy-Who-Lived-In-Total-Obliviousness had given Luna a friendly peck on the lips rather than do anything with Ginny. Needless to say, this had put an end to anything further to do with mistletoe, and no one had had any better ideas before they were all called home by their various families for Christmas and New Year. Now, however, they had returned to the school for the rest of the holidays, except for Harry himself, who had not left, and new preparations had been made while they were away, preparations that The Gang felt certain would work. They had the weekend before the start of classes, and they were going to make good use of it. Soundless as a wraith, Ron Weasley stole across his dorm to Harry's bed. He actually felt a little foolish doing this, but someone had to, and he shared a room with Harry so he was the logical choice. Oh-so-carefully he reached down and took firm hold of several strands of Harry's hair. A quick tug and a swift leap later, he escaped with a handful of Harry's jet-black hair and was back across the room, looking totally innocent. Harry, however, was for once sleeping the sleep of the dead, and so did not notice a thing. Ron was suitably pleased, and descended to the Common Room humming the Mission Impossible theme tune to himself. Hermione had showed him the movie over the holidays when it had come over on the tevelision, and he had rather enjoyed it, even if that Tom Cruise bloke was bloody crazy for trusting his life to flimsy bits of rope rather than a good levitation charm.
In the Common Room Ron met Ginny, who was carrying a small phial of clear potion carefully. The potion was one of Fred and George's newest additions to their Wonderwitch products line. It was not a love potion per se, but rather a potion to relax the inhibitions of the drinker in expressing their feelings towards the targeted individual. The idea was that, instead of the rather unethical practice of inspiring obsession, the potion merely encouraged the drinker to express themselves honestly and without restraint. The added bonus was that the potion was graduated, so the more one drank, the freer they would get with their actions. They figured that they could start by dosing Harry with one drop, then two, then three, and so on until his inhibitions were relaxed enough for him to admit his true feelings for Ginny and ask her out, at which point they would withdraw the potion and allow nature to take its course.
"Did you get it?" she asked excitedly, she could not wait for this one to play out, the plan was foolproof.
"Yeah," Ron said showing the several strands of raven-black hair for inspection.
"Great!" Ginny said, taking the hair and placing it in the potion, then proceeding to remove several strands of her own hair and putting those in too. The additional ingredients caused the potion to change from its innocuous clear and colourless state to a rather suspicious looking pale pink, but unfortunately the colour could not be helped, it was something about the ingredients in potions related to emotional control that caused the colour to be thus. Ginny stoppered the phial and then slipped it into her pocket.
Harry came down for a rather late breakfast in fairly good spirits. He nodded cordially at all those he met in the corridors on the way to the Great Hall, and he was happy to see his friends had saved him a space at the Gryffindor table. He slid easily into their midst, loaded his plate with bacon, eggs, sausages and toast and filled a goblet with pumpkin juice and joined the conversation that was currently occurring, which currently consisted of Hermione giving her rather long-winded opinion on some esoteric topic that was way over his head while Ron attempted to relate it to Quidditch metaphors. He did not take note of Ginny taking the phial of pink liquid out of her robes and carefully spilling a single drop into his goblet.
Someone else did, however. Kreacher, the house elf that belonged to Harry noted the contamination of his master's drink with outrage. Master Harry Potter was the one who had helped him to fulfil his master's last command, and had banished the Dark Lord and given House Elves everywhere a much better life. Kreacher considered it poor repayment to his master to allow him to be poisoned in some way by the Blood Traitor trollop. Simply vanishing the goblet, however, was out of the question, it would alert the Blood Traitor trollop to the fact that her treachery had been discovered. Kreacher needed a more cunning plan. Using his Elf magic he summoned the contents of the phial from her pocket to himself, suspending it as a liquid orb in the air above his hands and examined it. It was some type of love potion that Kreacher had never seen before. Clearly the Blood Traitor trollop was trying to scheme her way into his master's bed and steal his master's house from under him by bearing his children and controlling him with love potions. Such attempts could not be allowed to go unpunished. Not for nothing had Kreacher served generations of a Slytherin family, he was quite crafty himself, and he determined that it would be best to give the Blood Traitor trollop a taste of her own medicine. Perhaps then she would think twice before using love potions on his master. How though? How could he do it and also save his master from what was already in his goblet? Kreacher was contemplating the matter, when he was forced to take sudden action as Master Harry Potter picked up his goblet to take a drink. Desperate, the elf vanished the contents of the goblet. It was better to alert the Blood Traitor trollop than to have his master suffer the indignity of being her thrall.
Harry endeavoured to take a drink from his goblet of pumpkin juice, and was surprised to discover that it was empty. Weird, hadn't he filled it up just a couple of minutes ago? Shrugging it off as one of his friends mixing up goblets, he simply refilled it and took a long drink before returning to the conversation. Once again he failed to note Ginny, who was now scrutinising him carefully, waiting for the potion he had, to her eyes, downed in one gulp to take effect.
Kreacher watched the group rise and depart from the table, and knew that he had missed his opportunity to get revenge on the Blood Traitor trollop for the moment. He would do it at lunch though, or earlier perhaps since he had heard the group talking about having a snowball fight on the grounds, after which they would surely want hot drinks to warm up. He conjured up a phial of his own in which to put the potion until then. He would slip the potion into her drink when Master Harry Potter was not present so that he would not accidentally trigger as the love potion's target, and then watch her run amok chasing after another boy. Secretly, Kreacher hoped that she would fixate on the Corner boy, but that was just his meaner streak talking.
Harry and his friends went outside, joined by the fairly large group of students who had elected to remain over the holidays or to come back to the school early in order to get themselves organised for the coming term. They divided off into two teams, one consisting of The Golden Trio, Ginny, Luna, Dennis Creevey and Rose Zeller, while the other contained Demelza Robins and Jack Sloper, Draco, Emily Fawcett, Henrietta Galding, Dean Thomas and Hannah Abbot, and proceeded to have an all-out war with the snow that lay thick on the grounds. Snowballs flew in every direction, not always at members of the opposing team, and after an hour or so everyone was thoroughly soaked by melted snow, but that hardly seemed important to anyone. As Kreacher predicted, the whole group went down to the kitchens and asked the House Elves for hot drinks, which they were only too happy to provide. Kreacher was careful not to let anyone see as he poured the phial of potion wholesale into a mug of hot chocolate and gave it to the Blood Traitor trollop. Step one of his plan was complete, now he needed to get his master away so that the Blood Traitor trollop would fixate on someone else.
"Master Harry Potter sir?"
"Yes Kreacher?" Harry made an extra effort to be civil to Kreacher these days, he had after all been very helpful to Harry once they reached an understanding, "What is it?"
"Kreacher wonders if he could have a moment of master's precious time to ask a favour of him?"
"Sure," Harry said, wondering what this could be about. Kreacher never asked for favours, he asked for orders. Hermione gave him an appreciative smile as he rose and followed the Elf down a passage and into a private space that Harry assumed was a storage room.
"What's up Kreacher?" Harry asked when the Elf did not speak up immediately, "You can ask me anything you like, you know. I won't get angry with you for just asking."
"Kreacher…Kreacher wondered if Master Harry Potter sir might consider allowing Kreacher to return to the Most Noble House of Black in order to prepare better for Master's arrival at the end of the year. House needs much doing to be fit for master to live in, and lazy Kreacher might not have enough time to do everything if he must stay all the time at Hogwarts."
To say Harry was surprised by the Elf's hesitant request would have been an understatement.
"I'm sorry, Kreacher, I must have forgotten to tell you, I don't plan on moving into Grimmauld Place after school. Too much to remind me of Sirius, you see. I was planning on renting somewhere in Diagon Alley, or in Hogsmeade depending on where I get a job."
Kreacher's ears drooped a bit. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black had been his home since he could remember. Seeing the Elf's somewhat downcast face, and thinking of his pledge to be nice to him, Harry continued.
"If you want to, you could stay at Grimmauld Place," he said quickly "You don't have to move just because I want to. Grimmauld Place is your home, you don't have to leave it if you don't want to."
Kreacher looked ready to burst into tears at the thought.
"Master Harry Potter is too kind! But it would not be proper for Kreacher to remain where Master is not. Kreacher should always be on hand for when Master needs him. Kreacher will go with Master Harry Potter to his new house."
"You don't have to, Kreacher," Harry argued, "If you're happy at Grimmauld Place then you should stay there."
Had Hermione been present, he would have earned major brownie points with her for saying that. Sadly she was not.
"Kreacher will be happy wherever Master is happy," Kreacher responded firmly.
"Fine," Harry said, mentally throwing up his hands at the stubborn Elf, "But if you should change your mind, I won't mind at all."
"Kreacher lives to serve Master, Kreacher will not change his mind."
The discussion over, Harry and Kreacher returned to the others, Kreacher being reasonably certain that by now the Blood Traitor trollop would have developed her fixation, and it would not be on his master.
Several hours later, Ginny was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, reading a book about the Practical Applications of Runic Magic in Healing. It was mainly about using spells powered by runes to monitor patients, but it was dead interesting since she wanted to be a Healer after school. She looked up as movement flickered at the corner of her field of vision, and saw Harry walk down from the Boys Dormitories, seat himself in an arm-chair nearby and flip open a book of his own to read. It was a light-bulb moment for Ginny as the fact suddenly hit her. She loved Harry Potter. Of course this was not a new revelation, she had loved Harry for ages, but for some reason it was really hitting her in the face right now. She wanted to shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower, she wanted to write it in huge fiery letters across the sky. She wanted to tell Harry, repeatedly, and then to show him unequivocally with passionate kisses and…her mind did not so much enter the gutter as dive headfirst down the manhole and into the sewer at that point. She had been content to wait for the schemes of the others to play out, before, but no longer. She loved Harry, she knew he was besotted with her, it was time to start doing something about it.
Closing her book with a sharp snap, she rose from her chair and sauntered across the room to perch herself on the arm of the chair he had sat in. She leaned over, so that her chest was level with his eyes.
"Hello Harry," she purred in his ear.
Harry Potter's head whipped around in shock at the low greeting in his ear, and was suddenly confronted with a very close-up view of a woman's chest, albeit one still covered up by a pristine white blouse. To say that it was a bit of a shock was an understatement of the highest order, much like suggesting that Everest was a small hill, or the Pacific was a bit of a puddle. He reared back in surprise, nearly tipping the chair over as he did so. His face went bright red when he saw who it was.
"Ginny," he gasped weakly, "Don't do that."
"Sorry, my love," she apologised contritely. She had not meant to upset him, after all, just to get his attention.
It took a moment for Harry to process her reply, mainly because his ears had just informed him that she had referred to him as 'her love'. He must have imagined it. Damnit now is not the time to be having fantasies, Potter! At least try to have a civilised conversation without leaping into the gutter. Harry looked up at his best friend. She seemed a little…flushed, he noted with concern, not that he was an expert in the skin-tone of Ginny Weasley, mind you, she had just gone a little pink in the cheeks. Her pupils were rather dilated too, he could hardly see her brown irises at all. Finally, her expression was a little odd, too, if he did not know better he might have labelled it as adoring.
"Gin, are you feeling okay?" he inquired with some measure of concern.
"Never better," she assured him with a dreamy smile, he was always looking out for her, "I was just noticing how – handsome – you look today."
What. The. Hell? Had Ginny just called him handsome? Harry stood so that his face was not inches away from Ginny's more distracting attributes while he attempted to work out what was going on. Had he fallen asleep in the Common Room? Was he dreaming?
"Very handsome," she repeated huskily as she stood in front of him, and trailed a fingertip down his right cheek, smiling to herself as she watched his eyes darken to a shade of emerald. He wanted her, she could tell.
Harry grabbed Ginny's wrist and pulled her teasing fingertip away from his cheek. If this was a dream, then it was one hell of a dream. Pinches were just not going to cut it, so he slapped himself around the face, hard. Ow. Not a dream then. Okay if this was not simply his sordid imagination, then what was going on? Was she playing some kind of joke on him? His thought processes were suddenly and cleanly interrupted by the press of a pair of full, soft lips to his cheek, the one he had just struck.
"G-Gin? W-what are you doing?" he gasped, on the edge of incoherence because of the sensations that were spreading from his cheek to his brain, making him feel a trifle light-headed.
"Kissing it better, my love," she told him, her voice rather muffled because she had not removed her mouth from his cheek in order to speak. Harry's head was spinning. Had she really just called him 'her love' again? He released her wrist and grasped her shoulders, forcing her to back off slightly.
"Look, Gin," he began awkwardly, releasing her and attempting to back away and put a more decorous distance between them, but suddenly found the hard stone wall of the Common Room at his back. When had they moved that far? When had they moved at all for that matter? "If this is some kind of joke, then it's making me a bit uncomfortable…"
"I can change that," she purred teasingly, "I can make you comfortable, very comfortable."
Suddenly Harry's mind put it together, the flush, the dilated pupils, the forward behaviour: Love Potion. He moaned internally, he was in so much trouble. And the two people who could be relied on for discrete help, Professor Slughorn and Madam Pomfrey were not even in the castle at the moment. Both were out who-knew-where, doing Merlin-knew-what. McGonagall was the only member of staff still present, and there was no way he was taking Ginny up to see her about this. Knowing his luck, the stern and moralistic Headmistress would come down from her office to find Ginny holding him up against the wall and attempting to kiss him senseless. No, there was nothing for it but to deal with this on his own. He would not give in to temptation though, he vowed that instantly. For one thing it would be incredibly wrong of him to take advantage of any girl in this state, and for Ginny it was ten times worse, because he loved her. For another, if he did succumb, Ginny would hate him forever once she came out from under the potion, and he certainly did not want that, not at all.
His mind snapped back to the present situation when he felt the renewed press of Ginny's lips against his cheek. He let out an involuntary gasp as she started to move upwards, trailing kisses across his jaw-line and towards his ear. His brain was starting to short-circuit under the weight of all the pleasure signals it was receiving. He needed to get out of here, fast.
"Listen, Gin," he invented wildly, as he pried her off him once again, "As great as this is, you don't look too well. You're all flushed and rather warm. Maybe you should go and lie down for a while?"
Not waiting for an answer, he bolted out of the portrait hole.
Harry entered the library some time later, looking distinctly dishevelled to the concerned eye of Hermione Granger. Nevertheless, she was happy to see him there for once without her having to drag him in. Harry did not have nearly the phobia of the library that Ron did, but he still ought to spend more time studying in Hermione's opinion, particularly since this was their NEWT year.
"Hi Harry," she greeted him.
Harry was immensely relieved to see Hermione; if anyone would understand and help him it was she.
"'Mione, am I glad to see you," he gasped, "I really, really need your help."
"With what?" Hermione asked curiously.
"With Ginny," Harry replied desperately, "She's gone mental. I think someone's dosed her with Love Potion. Up in the Common Room she was throwing herself at me!"
Hermione was open-mouthed in shock. Ginny was supposed to give Harry the potion, not take it herself! And if she was throwing herself at Harry then she must have taken a lot of it, most of the phial they had, at least. Harry, however, misinterpreted her expression.
"I know," he said, "It sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth. I haven't done anything, I swear. But you've got to help me find an antidote."
"We can't." Hermione blurted, then caught herself, "Harry we can't give Ginny an antidote to Love Potion without knowing which potion she was given. There are over a dozen different kinds! Administering the wrong one could result in serious brain damage."
Harry looked at Hermione in horror before collapsing into the chair next to her and slumping onto the table, his head resting on his arms.
"I'm so dead," he moaned pitifully, his voice somewhat muffled by the fact that he was talking into the table, "Ron is going to kill me if he sees Ginny the way she's acting right now, and I don't know if I can take this, you know? I mean Ginny's a friend, I don't want to do anything to upset her, but I can't give in to her either."
Hermione rubbed his back sympathetically, but there was little she could say to comfort him. She resolved to write to Fred and George as soon as possible. They needed the antidote to the potion, and quickly too, before something untoward happened.
"I'll talk to Ron," she assured the distraught Boy-Who-Lived, "He'll understand that it's not your fault. The only other thing you can do is just avoid Ginny as much as possible until it wears off, and fend her off if you can't avoid her."
"Easy for you to say," Harry moaned, looking at her from the corner of his eye.
"I know," she commiserated with him, knowing that this was difficult, doubly so because of the way Harry felt about Ginny, and wanting him to feel that he had at least some support, "But there really isn't anything else we can do without knowing what she was given except to let the potion run its course."
"Err, don't look now, Harry, but Ginny just walked in, and it looks like she's looking for something, or someone, if you take my meaning."
Harry moaned and ducked under the table, but too late, because Ginny saw him and hurried over.
"Harry, my love," she squealed happily, ducking under the table herself, "I've been looking all over for you."
Harry backed away hastily as she reached for him, and rose to his feet, Ginny following suit.
"W-Well I've been here, studying with Hermione, as you can see," he stammered out, gesturing towards the pile of books that stood on top of the table.
Ginny appeared to take no notice of his answer, however, as she wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed gently.
"No matter," she told him, "I've found you now."
Harry threw a plaintive glance at Hermione over the top of Ginny's head, praying that she would do something, anything, to help him out before the wonderful feeling of Ginny pressed up against himself made him do something he would regret later. Fortunately his brown-haired best friend came through for him, just like she always did, mouthing the word 'dinner' at him and nodding towards the clock.
"Shall we go down to dinner then?" he asked, trying to inject a light and airy tone to the rather desperate plea.
"Sounds good," Ginny purred, "I'm dying for a bit of a bite."
From the look in her eyes, Harry had the sudden impression that it was not food she was talking about at all. He backed away, but she followed, and his back was to the wall once more. Ginny moved in closer and her hands started to wander across his chest as she nuzzled against the side of his neck. Harry looked towards Hermione again, mouthing the word 'help', but this time she merely gave him a helpless look and a shrug. Not even the smartest witch in her generation could have a solution for everything.
"Gin, dinner?" his voice was at least two octaves higher than it should be, but at this point he was impressed that he could form even small coherent sentences, such was the effect of Ginny's attentions to the base of his throat.
"Are you sure you don't want to just skip dinner?" Ginny asked, her voice going back to teasing as she withdrew slightly to look him in the eye, "We could have a lot of fun up here, just you and me…"
"Yeah," he said then backtracked as he realised the way her question was phrased, "I mean no! I mean we should go down. I hear they have chocolate fudge cake for dessert, your favourite."
It was quite a good ploy, he felt; Ginny loved chocolate fudge cake. If she could have, she would undoubtedly survive solely on the stuff. As it was, whenever there was a rumour that it might be available, which was not often, she always, always made sure she saved room for a big piece.
"Alright," Ginny agreed, backing off, and Harry nearly sagged in relief, until she made her next statement, "I've always heard that it tastes better off someone else's lips, maybe we can test that, hmmm?"
She arched an eyebrow and gave him a naughty smile, causing him to gulp loudly. Suddenly he was devoutly hoping that there was not anything remotely chocolaty available for dessert, otherwise he might have to make a run for it.
Dinner proved mercifully devoid of chocolate. Instead the House Elves had provided a truly magnificent treacle tart, which had made Harry very happy indeed. Better yet, McGonagall had come down to dinner. Even in her drugged up state, Ginny realised that doing anything remotely indecorous to Harry in the presence of the stern Transfiguration Mistress qualified as a Bad Idea, so he had prolonged his time at the table as much as possible, and then escaped her altogether by begging the excuse that he wanted to talk to McGonagall about something. She did not accompany him, but instead retreated to the Gryffindor Tower to plan her next avenue of attack on Harry's gentlemanly conduct. Of course his happiness came at a price, that price being that he was now sat in the Headmistress' office, trying desperately to think of excuses to prolong their meeting. So far they had discussed his NEWTs, his career options for when he left the school, the possibility of an Apprenticeship to Professor Jones with an eye to gaining his own Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts in preparation to take over the post himself on Jones' retirement and even the upcoming presentation dinner at the Ministry at which Harry was to be formally awarded his Order of Merlin (First Class) for destroying Voldemort. Now, however, Harry had run out of things to talk about, and the clock in the office told him that it was only eight o'clock. He hoped that by the time he returned to the dorm, after a few detours along the way, it would be late enough that he could legitimately go straight up to bed and thus avoid Ginny wholesale. Knowing his luck, however, the chances of that happening were slender indeed. He did not want McGonagall to become suspicious, so he thanked her for her time and walked down the stairs towards the Gargoyle that guarded the office with the air of a man walking to the electric chair.
Meanwhile, up in the Common Room, Hermione and Ron sat together, trying desperately to work out some kind of solution to their suddenly rather major problems. Hermione had filled Ron in on the situation and they had owled Fred and George for an antidote. Unfortunately, the twins had written back stating that Ginny must have taken far too much, if she was acting so forward, for their antidote to have any chance of working. Thus their options were rather limited. Neither of the pair could see anything to do except let the potion run its course and let Harry deal with it. If either of them, or anyone else for that matter, attempted to intervene then Ginny would probably fly off the handle, such was the nature of love potions, from which Fred and George's potion was derived. It was somewhat distressing and very disheartening that not only was their supposedly foolproof plan not working, but in the process of failing, it was also causing Harry a good deal of trouble. Ginny would be for the high jump when she returned to normal if she did not have a good explanation of how she wound up taking the potion instead of giving it to Harry.
"Maybe it really just isn't meant to be," Ron posited glumly, "I mean we've tried just about everything thinkable, and a few things that weren't, and they're still not together."
"I don't believe that," Hermione argued, "They love each other so much, but Harry just can't see it. He doesn't see how great they would be together, all he sees is how wonderful she is, and you know his self-esteem has never been great. He's probably labouring under the delusion that he's not good enough for her."
"Maybe," Ron said, "But how do we get him off his noble horse?"
"I think we may have to forget about anything else and go with our last plan," Hermione said, thoughtfully, "At this point I really don't think anything is going to get Harry to make the first move. I know Ginny wanted Harry to ask her, and I know you want it to be perfect for your sister, and I love you for that, but I really don't think Ginny is going to get her fairy-tale proposal at this point. Everything we do just cements Harry further and further into his position."
"Alright, well we better let the others know, but I think we'd better at least wait until this business with the potions has died down, otherwise Harry is really not going to be happy with any of us when we tell him everything."
"I agree," Hermione seconded, having no desire to incur the wrath of her best friend. She had seen the Boy-Who-Lived in a snit, and it was not a sight she wished to behold directed at her.
The decision made, they turned to snuggling in that way that only teen couples can pull off without looking like complete idiots. By the time Harry arrived up in the Common Room, they were snogging enthusiastically, Hermione sat in Ron's lap with her hands cupping his face, while his hands were tangled in her long, bushy hair. Harry was so used to finding them like this by now, that he simply grinned at the sight upon entry, and then walked past.
"Get a room," he told them casually, and as usual they ignored him. He actually doubted whether they even registered his presence when he found them like this, but formalities had to be observed, and if McGonagall ever walked in on them like this then at least he could say he had tried, albeit not very hard, to get them to stop.
He continued up the stairs to his dorm, unheeding of the fact that Ginny had not been in evidence, a realisation that might have caused him to be suspicious. Sadly, the one time when he really should have done, he did not note her absence. Thus it was that he simply clambered into bed and lay down to sleep.
Several hours later, Harry was awoken from his slumbers by the most curious sensation he had ever experienced upon waking up. Something warm and pleasantly heavy was resting on his chest, and a similar warm weight was pressed up against the whole of one side of himself. He opened his eyes and squinted into the blur that was the best his unaided eyes could produce for him. The moonlight from the window next to his bed illuminated a pile of something auburn resting on his chest. Slightly more awake now, he was registering more than just the warmth of whatever it was. It felt very…silky, like the excellent quality sheets that he had once slept in at Grimmauld Place. Reaching out tentatively to touch the auburn silky mass, he was rewarded with a solid contact. Suddenly he realised exactly what was going on, and immediately had to fight off the very strong urge to run screaming. Ginny was in his bed, screaming and waking Ron up would qualify as a Very Bad Idea, particularly since, he realised, Ginny was actually under the covers with him. If Ron woke up to find them like this, he would not have time for a single syllable of explanation before Ron hexed him into oblivion or beat him bloody. He reached over to the nightstand on his left, fortunately the opposite side from Ginny since his right arm was currently trapped between her body and his own, and grabbed his glasses. Having put them on, very slowly and carefully, almost afraid of what he might find, Harry lifted up the covers and took the briefest of peeks in, and instantly breathed a huge sigh of relief. At least Ginny had retained enough sense or self-control not to enter his bed naked. The fact remained, however, that she was in his bed and if anyone should find them like this then there would be very serious trouble, so he needed to do something. He nudged Ginny gently, causing her to stir slightly.
"Ginny," he whispered, accompanied by another gentle nudge, "Wake up, Ginny."
Her head tilted until she was looking at him, her eyes bright in the silvery moonlight. Naturally born sources of light, Harry decided irrelevantly, suited Ginny very well. Much like the time he had wound up stuck with her in detention, the moonlight illuminating her at the moment gave an ethereal quality to her beauty that stole his breath away. Why did she have to look so wonderful all the time? It made it so much harder to stay true to his promise to stay away.
"Ginny what are you doing here?"
"Sleeping, love," she told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which he supposed it was.
"Gin, you've got your own dorm. Why don't you go back to it?"
"You're here," she said, again as if it was the most obvious thing. Why did she have to keep saying things like that? Her eyes were dark pools of infinity that he could quite happily gaze into forever. He wanted to break, to give in and return every ounce of the affection she was currently showing for him. He gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself firmly that it was the potion talking, that this was only a temporary situation, that Ginny would soon snap out of this, and that if he did anything to her, then she would in all likelihood castrate him herself.
"This isn't real, Gin," he tried to explain to her gently, hoping that it would penetrate her potion-shrouded mind, "What you're feeling isn't real. I don't want…"
"It's more real than anything else I feel, now or ever before," she countered before leaning up to capture his lips with hers. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a moan as Ginny slid her tongue in between his parted lips and proceeded to French-kiss him into complete incoherence. The feeling that coursed through him was wonderful, liberating and so intensely blissful that he thought his head might explode. He could quite happily have stayed that way forever except that reality, in the form of his conscience screaming bloody murder at him, intruded. With almighty effort, he broke the kiss, but Ginny was not perturbed by this. She simply buried her head back into the niche below his collarbone and sighed contentedly.
"You're my one and only, Harry," she declared huskily.
Merlin how he wished that that declaration had been real, but again he knew it was just the potion talking. He would not respond, he could not. He gathered the last shreds of his resistance.
"Listen, Gin, you really need to go back to your own dorm now. If Hermione finds you gone and Ron finds you here we are both going to be in so much trouble tomorrow."
He did not emphasise that it would probably be he who would be in the most trouble. He did not want to take advantage of Ginny's potion-induced adoration for him in that way.
"Are you sure it wouldn't be – worth it?" she purred, and from her tone Harry was certain beyond any doubt that she would make it more than worth his while if he allowed her to stay. This was, of course, precisely the reason why he absolutely could not let her stay.
"I don't want you to get in trouble," Harry assured her.
"What if I said I wouldn't care?" Ginny asked, letting her hand wander across his breastbone.
"I would care though, Gin," he tried, it was worth a shot. At this point anything that would get her out of his bed without reducing her to tears was worth a shot. He did not think he would be able to take it right now if she cried, he might give in just to cheer her up.
"Oh, Harry, that's so sweet," she told him, her hand moving upwards to caress his cheek, "I love it that you care, but I want to be with you, and I'll do a whole year's worth of detentions for it if I have to."
Harry sighed deeply. Why was nothing ever easy? Clearly she was not going to move of her own free will, and he did not want to force her, that was sure to make her get upset. There seemed no option but to physically move her himself while she was asleep.
"Fine then," he said, shrugging and faking a smile, "Stay if you want."
"Really?" she looked so happy. This was killing him, really killing him.
He nodded, not sure that he could keep up this façade if he spoke any further. She buried her head contentedly back into his chest and sighed happily.
"I love you, Harry," she repeated, and he just patted her head gently as a response.
A scant few minutes later Ginny was fast asleep once more and Harry went into action. He discovered to his dismay that his covers were quite thoroughly tangled up around Ginny's arms and legs, too much so for him to get them off her without risking waking her. Being slightly chilly for the rest of the night might not be such a bad idea, however, since he really needed a cold shower at the moment, so he simply picked Ginny up, bedcovers and all and staggered down the stairs with his rather bulky burden. He could not deposit her back in her own dormitory, the stairs would not allow him entry, so instead he placed her very gently on one of the couches in the Common Room and proceeded to tuck the covers in around her to try to ensure her comfort as best he could. Then he returned to his dorm, pulled out the spare blanket from under his bed and spread it over his now bare under-sheet before laying down to sleep once more. Before he closed his eyes, he looked up at the ceiling and prayed very devoutly to anyone that might be listening that by morning Ginny would be back to normal again. If she wasn't, he wondered whether anyone would miss him all that much if he jumped out of the Common Room window.
Ginny awoke the next morning feeling very warm and fuzzy inside. She had spent the night with Harry, and it had been wonderful beyond her wildest dreams. She had kissed him and it had been so completely heavenly that she could not really find a word to adequately express it. She rolled over lazily, expecting to be confronted with Harry's sleeping form. She was therefore understandably confused to be confronted with what looked, from her vantage point, to be the back of a chair. That was not right, she thought, her brow furrowing. Checking, she assured herself that she was wrapped up in Harry's bedcovers, the patterns matched and they were laced with his heady scent, yet she was quite clearly not in bed with Harry. Suddenly it hit her; Harry must have brought her down some time after she fell asleep. She sighed happily, he was so sweet, looking out for her to make sure she did not get into trouble, and giving up his own bedcovers to boot. He really was the perfect gentleman. She was going to have to do something really special for him, to show her gratitude. A few possibilities skittered across her mind, but none of them seemed to fit just at the minute, she would have to think further on it and decide later. She got up, folded the bedcovers neatly and piled them on the sofa she had been lying on before disappearing up the stairs to her dorm to get dressed for the new day.
Harry, meanwhile, was debating the merits of remaining in his dorm the entire day, just in case Ginny was still acting the way she had been yesterday. It was, he felt, not a bad idea. He could talk Kreacher into bringing him his meals, and he would probably not be missed since there were no classes yet. Then he remembered that Ginny had already managed to get in here once, despite the protections cast on the stairs and the doors of the dorms. She would certainly come looking for him, and being in a room with only one exit when she did was probably not a good idea. He therefore got up, showered and dressed. As he descended the stairs he pleaded with Merlin to let Ginny be sane again. When he entered the Common Room, however, it was immediately clear that Merlin was ignoring him today, as there was a happy squeal of 'Harry!' from the Girls' Dormitory stairs, and he turned to see Ginny running towards him. His breath caught in his throat and he wondered how it was that Ginny managed to pull it off. He was intellectually aware that there were plenty of other good-looking girls out there. Hermione, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, heck even Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin were very beautiful young women. But somehow, and he could not, for the life of him, work out how, Ginny was the only girl he knew who could actually make the Hogwarts school uniform look sexy. Perhaps it was the fact that the Gryffindor coloured edging of the outer robe was a perfect complement for her fiery red mane of hair. Perhaps it was the way that beneath the outer robe, her clothes were an exact enough fit to show off her wonderful figure. Perhaps it was the fact that at the moment she had the top two buttons of her blouse undone, showing just the barest hint of…
OI! You have NO right whatsoever to be looking there, sunshine! Get your eyes back on her face now or it's curtains for you, Potter!
Right, eyes on face. He could do that. Face good, chest goo-bad! Face good, chest bad! He groaned internally, he needed help, fast. Unfortunately, thanks to his debate over whether to stay in bed all day, even Ron had managed to get out of bed before him, and he suspected everyone else had gone down to breakfast as well by now, meaning that it was just the two of them up here at the moment. That was about as far as he got before Ginny literally flung herself at him, forcing him to catch her and physically hold her up or risk them both tumbling to the floor. By the time he regained his balance and set her down on her feet again, she was already nuzzling against the side of his neck again.
"Morning, Ginny," he said as calmly as he could given the circumstances.
"Good morning, love," she returned, her voice slightly muffled since she did not cease her attentions when she spoke. Harry gasped as she kissed a particularly sensitive spot just below the line of his jawbone. Enough was enough, he decided. He needed to get out of here, now, and he had an excellent excuse.
"Well, I was just going down to breakfast, so I'll see you later…"
"I'll come with you," she said to his chagrin, "I haven't had breakfast either yet. I was waiting for you."
"O-Okay," he said, even though it was most definitely not okay, he could not think of anything to put her off. The whole walk down to the Great Hall he attempted to occupy his mind with thoughts that did not relate in any way, shape or form to the fact that Ginny chose to press her body close enough to his own that he was convinced her objective was to fuse them at the hip, or to the great view he could so easily get by leaning his head a little to the side. Needless to say, by the time they reached the Great Hall, Harry was wondering if it would look overly strange if he poured a jug of ice water over his own head.
Breakfast was, fortunately for Harry's sanity, a fairly civilised affair. Clearly Ginny was beginning to regain some of her faculties, as she was not acting nearly so wantonly now they were out in public. Of course this was not exactly saying much, she was still snuggled up much too closely to Harry for his comfort, and she was currently conducting some kind of arcane experiment on his breakfast plate that involved several slices of toast, a small mountain of scrambled eggs and liberal amounts of butter. Since there was little he could do about it, he let her get on with whatever she was doing and occupied himself by silently watching the other people at the table. Most of them were busy eating, although they did spare the occasional glance for the newfound closeness between Harry and Ginny. Harry did not know it, but many of them, even the ones not directly involved in Ron's plot, were silently thanking whatever divine influence had finally gotten those two together. Instead he grew more and more embarrassed, thinking that they were disgusted with the way he was allowing Ginny to humiliate herself. Ron and Hermione, however, kept shooting him sidelong glances and faint smiles, which he responded to with dark glares. How could they find this amusing? They might not know how difficult it really was, since he had hidden his true feelings from them, but he had expected at least a modicum of sympathy from them for his plight. No such luck, apparently.
His attention was suddenly and forcibly returned to Ginny and his breakfast by the fact that she was now poking a forkful of the buttered scrambled eggs, sandwiched between two slices of toast, against his closed lips. At first he refused to open his mouth.
"Come on, Harry, you need to eat something. Just one mouthful? For me?"
Harry noticed that the rest of the table was now staring at him openly. He groaned in frustration, why was it always him? At least he could console himself with the fact that he was only being humiliated in front of a small number of students rather than the entire school, as would be occurring during term time. Opening his mouth, he quickly ate the proffered food, in the hopes that Ginny would be satisfied and allow him to feed himself now. No such luck, unfortunately, as she kept hold of his fork, although this did not prevent her from reaching up with her free hand and playing idly with his hair. When he swallowed, he found Ginny ready with another forkful. Clearly this was not going to end until he either took control of the situation, escaped, or finished every last scrap of Ginny's scrambled egg sandwich. Since his rumbling stomach would not let him leave until it was satisfied, and since he really did not want to wrestle Ginny for control of his own fork at the table, thereby drawing even more scrutiny to them than they were already receiving, he chewed and swallowed at a rate that made Ron's usual shovelling technique seem positively snail-like in comparison. When his plate was finally clear, Ginny pulled him closer to her, setting the fork down and stroking the side of his face. Perhaps his earlier assessment of her actions as less wanton had been a little premature. Fortunately no one was looking in their direction anymore, except Ron and Hermione with their ever-present smiles that Harry would dearly have loved to wipe off their faces.
"Did you enjoy your breakfast, love?"
"Yeah, I guess," really what else could he say? He did not want to upset her at the breakfast table. He regretted it, however, as Ginny sighed contentedly and laid her head on his shoulder. He was forcibly reminded of the torturous time he had spent in detention for McGonagall last term when he had wound up in a similar position with Ginny. That time the whole thing had been totally inadvertent, as Ginny had nodded off against him; this time she was doing it deliberately, and it was making his him even hotter under the collar now than it had then. He needed to get out of there, fast.
"Listen, Gin," he invented wildly, "Breakfast was great, but I've just remembered that I need to go to the library and finish off the references for my Charms assignment."
"I'll come with you," she offered at once.
"No!" he panicked, before pulling himself together as far as Ginny's continued proximity would allow, "No, Gin, I don't want any distractions, so that I can get it done as quickly as I can."
Ginny only seemed to hear the first half of that sentence.
"Do I distract you then, Harry?" she asked sultrily.
"Yeah," for once his mouth and his conscience were in total agreement, "A lot."
She gave him a smile that he did not like, not one bit. It was a smile that foretold mischief, and in her present state, he was sure that mischief would involve something to seriously endanger both their virtues.
"I'll let you get on with it then," she told him, causing him to sag internally with relief. Then she rose, and with a kiss to the cheek that was rather lingering, she walked out of the Great Hall. Harry watched her go, rationally relieved, but still irrationally desolate that she had just walked out on him.
Several hours later, Harry was climbing the stairs to his dorm, intent on putting his book-bag away and going down to the kitchens for a late lunch. His plan to avoid Ginny was thus far succeeding in spades. Hiding out in the library under his Invisibility Cloak was probably the best idea he had come up with in the whole of this disaster. Ginny had not once been in to check on him, but even if she had she would not have been able to find him. He entered his dorm, and only once he had firmly closed the door behind him did he slip off the Invisibility Cloak.
"Hello, Harry," Harry stopped dead and cursed inwardly; he should have thought to check the dorm for Ginny before cutting off his only avenue of escape. Slowly, hesitantly and very much afraid of what he would find, he turned his eyes to his bed in the furthest corner of the room. The sight that confronted him caused his eyes to widen to the size of the average saucer, and he gulped loudly.
"H-hi, Gin," was all he could say as he was treated to a vision that was something straight out of one of his fantasies. Ginny lay on her side on his bed, her head propped up by one hand while the other was flicking idly through the pages of some book or other that she had been reading. This might not have been so bad, since Harry was well used to Ginny's preferred reading posture. It was what she was wearing, or rather what she was evidently not wearing, that caused him to tug at his suddenly very tight shirt collar. As far as he could tell, the only parts of her school robes still gracing her person were her black tights and the snow-white blouse that was still two buttons undone at the top. The rest of it was scattered carelessly across his area of the dorm. For some reason, although he knew he really should avert his gaze, he could not seem to tear his eyes away from Ginny as she rose and sashayed over to him, her blouse riding up slightly with every step to reveal tantalising hints of black lace that made Harry blush to his roots. She stopped right in front of him and draped both of her arms over his shoulders and around his neck.
"I've been waiting for you," she whispered huskily.
"Merlin, Gin I…" she did not let him get any further, silencing him with a teasing fingertip to his lips.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" she asked softly. Then, before he could even think to formulate a response, she leaned in and replaced her finger with her lips, kissing him soundly. He gripped her shoulders and gently forced her backwards.
"Look, Gin, we just can't do this, okay? You're not yourself at the moment," he was now past caring about the troubles it would cause if he rejected her outright. He just wanted to her to leave before his resistance crumbled and he gave in. He knew it would happen soon if this did not stop. Hopefully she would understand once she got back to normal that he had not really meant to hurt her feelings.
"I don't want to hurt you," he continued, "But I just don't feel…"
He trailed off because it was rapidly becoming evident that Ginny was not listening to a word he was saying. Her flush had suddenly become rosier, and her eyes had taken on a glaze that Harry did not like at all. Was she having a bad reaction to the potion? Surely any allergy would have been triggered by now. Was it the kiss? Had he done something to her without realising it? She swayed rather alarmingly, which was all the warning Harry got before her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped forwards in a dead faint. He caught her gently before she could hit the floor, and held her up, still cognisant of the fact that she was rather scantily clad and trying to keep his hands away from any danger areas. It was immediately clear, however that she was completely unconscious, so he picked her up and laid her back on his bed once again while he contemplated the best course of action. He obviously could not take her to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was still not back, and even if she had been, there was no way he was carrying Ginny through the halls in her current state of undress. In the absence of any well-informed course of action, he decided it would probably be best to let her wake up on her own. In the meantime, he collected together the various discarded articles of clothing that she had scattered around his bed, including, to his supreme embarrassment, a white bra with black lace trim that was hung over his footboard, which he picked up as though it might well burn or bite him if he were not careful and dropped very quickly on top of the pile of Ginny's clothes.
After that there was little he could do except wait for Ginny to wake and pray that no one walked in, in the meantime. He certainly wasn't going to try and put any of her clothes back on her. He sat in the chair that stood by his bed and took to watching her while he waited for her to wake up. Despite all the grief she had put him through in the last day and a half, Harry could not help noticing how beautiful Ginny looked while she was not throwing herself at him. Not that she had looked ugly while she was, that would have made everything so much easier. But she really did look very cute, laid out on the bed as she was. Her hair was fanned out on his pillow like a fiery halo. Her face was calm and peaceful in sleep, and her chest rose and fell rhythmically with her breathing. Feeling somewhat daring, he reached out and ran a hand through her titian tresses, the gentle motion of his hand calmed his frazzled nerves as much as anything, and after a bit he felt much calmer than he had since this whole mess started the previous afternoon. .
"You're so beautiful, Gin," he told the inert girl, "Much too beautiful really. And I love you, maybe too much. If I loved you less then I might do something about it. But you deserve the best, much better than me, so I guess I love you enough to let you go. It'll hurt," he assured her, "when you find him, whoever the lucky bastard is that wins your heart, but I'll always be here for you, as a friend. I hope you know that, because I just don't have the courage to tell you so to your face, I wish I did. Some Gryffindor I am, huh?"
He finished with a self-deprecating laugh, although his monologue inexplicably made him feel much better, in spite of the fact that he was affirming out loud his promise to give up the one thing he had wanted more than anything else for the better part of eighteen months now. He continued to stroke her hair, but no other words particularly leapt out as needing to be said at this moment, so he kept silence. He quickly lost track of how long exactly he sat there like that, but it was long a fair while, in his estimation, before Ginny started stirring. Her flush had receded to leave her complexion back at its usual hue, and Harry guessed that she was finally over the potion, or perhaps it was more that he hoped, by everything that anyone had ever held sacred, that she was over it. Just in case, however, he went over to the dorm door and opened it, pocketing his Invisibility Cloak as he did so, so that he could make a swift exit and hide if necessary. He then took his seat beside the bed again as Ginny began to stir in earnest. Her eyes blinked open, and were unfocussed for a few moments before she zeroed in on his presence.
"Harry?" she asked, sounding for all the world as if she had just woken up from a good night's sleep.
"Hey, Gin," he said, "How do you feel?"
To his immense relief and overwhelming happiness, her voice was neither fatuous, nor adoring, nor laced with innuendo as it had been over the last day and a half.
"Weird," she said, then paused before continuing, "and cold too. Can you shut the window?"
Slightly bemused by the abrupt return of the normal Ginny, he got up and closed the door, which had been the source of the draft.
"You'll be warmer if you put your clothes back on," he told her, attempting to sound matter of fact about it, as though Ginny being scantily dressed was totally normal.
"My clothes?" she asked her brow furrowing. Then she looked down at herself and saw what he was talking about, "Oh, okay."
She rose and Harry averted his eyes while she dressed.
"Where are we anyway?" she asked the back of his head, "When you asked how I was feeling I thought we were in the Hospital Wing, but this doesn't look anything like it."
"Errr," Bugger! How to answer without getting himself into trouble? He decided that honesty was the best policy and hoped to high heaven that either she recalled her actions or that they could get to Ron and Hermione and an explanation before she hexed him into oblivion, "Actually we're in the dorm Ron and I share."
"Oh?" he could feel her eyes narrowing dangerously at his back, "And why, may I ask am I in your dorm, with no one else around, in this state of undress?"
"Err, how much do you remember of the last day or so, Gin?"
"I don't see…"
Her voice, which had been low and decidedly deadly, trailed off quite suddenly, and Harry chanced a look over his shoulder, just in case something bad had happened. Mercifully, Ginny was fully dressed, so he turned to face her. He was amused to note that it was now her turn to be absolutely tomato red in both cheeks. Turnabout was fair play, he guessed, after all the blushing he had been doing since last night on her account, although he was not going to hold a grudge. She had not been in control of her own actions.
"Are you alright, Ginny?"
She made a small choking sound and blushed harder, which Harry was very surprised to see was possible. If she got any redder he might have to take her down to the Hospital Wing for real.
"Gin?"
"Merlin, Harry, I'm so sorry," she told him in a very small voice, "For everything."
He smiled, able to see the humour in the situation now that it was over, and trying to put her at ease.
"Don't worry too much about it, Gin," he told her easily, "You weren't in control. I'm just glad it wore off before you had the chance to do anything too drastic."
His smile was answered by a very tentative upturning of Ginny's lips, although her blush was not receding at all.
"I'm glad too," she told him sincerely, "I want my first time to be special."
She did not mention that it was actually their first time that she wanted to be special. Now was not the time to be dropping such obvious hints.
"And it will be," he assured her, "You'll find the right man, and all your brothers and I will do our duty in threatening him with all kinds of horrible fates unless he treats you like a queen."
Ginny did not really have anything to say to that. The only thing she could think of was how Harry was going to be on the receiving end of those threats, not the giving end, but again, now was not the time to voice that kind of thought out loud. Harry mistook her silence for an uncomfortable one, so he filled the gap.
"Listen Gin, I was just about to go down and get a late lunch when I came up here. I know you didn't have much breakfast. You were – uh – busy with my plate. Did you have lunch yet?"
"No," she admitted, "At least not that I can remember."
"Care to come with?" he asked.
"I guess, if you can stand my company," she said with a laugh that should have been breezy, but even the Boy-Who-Was-Clueless picked up the slight tremor of uncertainty in there. He gave her a short bow and stuck out an elbow in mock-courtly fashion. Hoping to put her at ease and get this whole thing behind them as quickly as possible.
"Miss Weasley I would be delighted for your company."
Her laugh at his antics was stronger, and she linked her arm with his, although she was careful to keep a respectable distance between them. Harry certainly was not going to complain about that. Truthfully he was just as glad of the space, but he hoped that they could put this episode behind them soon, or at least get to the point where it was a funny story they could tell rather than a seriously embarrassing topic for both of them. By the time the pair had made it down to the kitchens, they were making small-talk about their respective holidays, even if it was a little forced in its casualness, and they were both careful to stop well before yesterday afternoon. It would take several days before they were totally at ease with one another again, and in the meantime Ginny would have to face the wrath of three brothers and one surrogate sister, but for now she was just happy that this incident had not forever ruined her relationship with Harry…
Phew! A monster chapter at over ten thousand words, but sooo much fun to write! It would therefore be nice to get a lovely lot of feedback on it, so please review and tell me what you thought!
Next chapter: One Last Show! Will Harry finally give in to Ginny's personal entreaty?