A/N: Here is the continuation of What Comes Up. Bonus points (and a shoutout in my next author's note) to anyone who gets the title reference here. There will be one more part after this one; it's a good break from trying to untangle everything I'm trying to convey in the next chapter of Charming Ginny.
Harry emerged from the Burrow's bathroom after his shower in a daze. The realization that he'd just brought himself to climax (and really, it had been one of his best ever) to thoughts of Ginny Weasley hit him with the force of a Bludger. Truly, he hadn't seen it coming.
Literally or figuratively, he thought wryly to himself. But now that it had happened, and he couldn't un-think it, Harry realized he was in trouble. This hadn't been a mere release, not at all. He fancied her.
Really, really fancied her.
How had he not seen it? Ginny was funny, smart, brave, a great friend. Beautiful. Damn, she really was.
And she's dating Dean.
Arghh! Forget Dean. She's Ron's sister!
Harry closed his eyes and tried to get control of his emotions. He'd awakened a monster within him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes flew open. Only then did he notice that his realization and subsequent musings had led him to stop right on the landing outside Ginny's bedroom door. She was standing in front of it, looking curiously at him. Belatedly, he was aware he was only wearing a t-shirt and a towel around his waist. He'd been so shocked by the events surrounding his wank he hadn't even thought to pull on his pants and trousers, but had left the Weasley's bathroom as if he was at Hogwarts, not bothering getting fully dressed until he reached his room.
"Harry?" Ginny was still there, and now she sounded rather amused. "Did you have a good shower?"
Worst question ever.
Harry forced himself to try to focus, to ignore the fact that Ginny herself was wearing a dressing gown and looked on her way to shower herself. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and there was smudge of dirt on her cheek that Harry had the perverse urge to wipe off. To his absolute horror, and despite the careful attention he had just shown it, he felt his penis give a renewed twitch of interest under his towel.
"Ummm, yes. Good shower," he stammered. He sounded like an idiot, he knew and he fumbled around for something else to say. "Hot. It was hot." Oh fuck. "The water was, I mean. I guess that's the good thing about a magical house, right? Always plenty of hot water? At the Durseley's I shower last and it's always cold by then. So I got used to cold showers. And cold water is . . . cold. I prefer hot." Stop babbling Harry!
By now, Ginny was giggling, and while Harry was rather embarrassed to be making an ass of himself, he was also the tiniest bit gratified to make her laugh. She had a wonderful laugh. His penis twitched again and Harry shuffled the dirty clothes he'd been wearing for Quidditch so they covered his front better.
"I uhh, you know," he said, tilting his head up the stairs towards Ron's room.
"Right," Ginny nodded. "And I really need a shower. I got really sweaty while we were playing two-a-side."
Harry nodded stiffly, the mere thought of Ginny, sweaty and naked was doing nothing to help him control his body.
"I'll see you at supper," he managed before escaping up the stairs.
Ron's room was blessedly empty. Through the small window, he could see Ron and Hermione heading towards the garden with a collection basket. Perfect.
Harry didn't think he'd ever gotten hard so quickly again after a wank. He flopped down on his camp bed and opened his towel before taking himself in hand for the second time in half an hour. Any intent he had to think of something, anything, other than Ginny flew out of his head when he heard the groan of pipes that meant she'd turned on the water in the loo. The thought of her, peeling off her sweaty clothes and stepping naked into the same space where he had just finished was just too arousing. He couldn't help it.
Ginny tilted her head back and let the water fall over her body. She groaned as it hit her sore muscles and pushed her wet hair off her face. Grabbing the soap, she ran it across her breasts, down her stomach, and then carefully washed her more sensitive parts below. All the while, her eyes were closed and she had a small smile on her face. She was thinking of Harry, and how it would feel to have him do the washing . . .
Harry climaxed. Imagining that Ginny was thinking of him the way he thought of her pushed him right over the edge, and he was both trembling with pleasure and a little bit ashamed as he recovered and then said the cleansing spells. Ginny was dating Dean; they were quite happy as far as he could tell. If anything, it was him she'd imagine while in the shower.
Damn, he hoped she didn't think of Dean while she showered.
Harry pulled on his clothes. He was tired in a way that had nothing to do with Quidditch. Two orgasms had his limbs feeling heavy and languid, and he actually considered closing his eyes for a quick kip before supper. But the thought of Ron possibly finding him there and the teasing he'd endure forced him up off his bed and out of the room. One thing was certain. Harry was going to have to take every means possible to keep Ron from ever finding out that his feelings towards Ginny were anything beyond that of brotherly.
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Harry became vigilant about setting silencing charms around his bed at night, lest he talk in his sleep and clue Ron into the subject of his dreams.
Fantasies, really.
For as often as he berated himself to stop thinking about Ron's little sister that way, the monster in Harry's chest absolutely refused to stay quiet. Harry justified his frequent wanks and the increasingly vivid (and unrealistic) thoughts about what he and Ginny might do by telling himself that it was really a matter of self-preservation at this point. He and Ron had caught Ginny and Dean snogging behind a tapestry and Ron had almost gone spare. Harry had dragged Ron away and agreed wholeheartedly with his best mate that yes, the couple had been behaving in a completely inappropriate manner.
Almost immediately after returning to the common room, Harry retreated to the shower, where he could safely replace Dean with himself in the scene. And despite the fact that the pair had been fully clothed, Harry's daydream Ginny opened her shirt and invited his hand inside.
It ended up being a very quick shower. Harry returned downstairs not long afterwards to discover that Ron had decided to take the matter his lack of experience into his own hands. Or his own mouth, really. Harry couldn't exactly see where Ron's tongue ended and Lavender Brown's began, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Ron may not be needing as many showers soon.
Watching Ron and Lavender tongue wrestle over the next weeks was fairly torturous. The two them seemed to be kissing – sloppily – every time Harry looked. Mealtimes, studying in the common room, in the corridor between classes, anywhere was fair game for a makeout session. Harry got rather tired of trying to have a conversation with Ron while Lavender was wrapped around him, and after one such attempt, when he realized that Ron's hand was somewhere Harry really didn't want to see, even covered in a shirt, he mostly stayed away.
This meant that Harry spent more time with Hermione. He was great friends with her, of course, but being with her meant studying more and talking about Quidditch (and generally goofing off) less. And Hermione was . . . sad. Harry thought he knew why, but had no idea how to talk about it. Instead, he used the Marauder's Map a lot to figure out where Ron and Lavender might be, and tried to steer Hermione in the other direction. They spend a lot of time in the library.
The one advantage of Ron being otherwise occupied was that there was less of a chance that he would suspect exactly how much time Harry was spending thinking about Ginny.
It had gotten bad. Maybe it was the fact that he and Ginny had begun commiserating more about her brother's activities (really, the connection they made simply by rolling their eyes at each other was enough to send a jolt of heat to Harry's groin), but Harry's shower daydreams had expanded to include a number of evenings as well, with a strong silencing charm around his bed (and Sirius' cleaning spells for afterwards).
Hermione suspected, Harry thought. He caught her watching him a couple of times while he was watching Ginny, a small smile on her face. They didn't talk about it though. Harry somehow knew that talking about his feelings (and the fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do about them), would lead to a conversation about his two best friends, and that was a place Harry just wasn't ready to go.
So he thought about Ginny in private, and couldn't stop watching her in public. The monster in his chest was clawing at him more and more and Harry was doing everything possible to keep his feelings (and the physical reaction they caused), hidden.
And then Ginny broke up with Dean.
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The detention with Snape was torture; all Harry could think about was what was happening down at the Quidditch pitch. Ginny was playing Seeker, and more than once, Harry realized that he been working for long minutes with no idea what he was doing; he couldn't stop thinking about what Ginny must look like, straddling her broom, that look of intense concentration on her face.
Only the horror over the thought of trying to control an erection in the same room as Snape kept Harry from getting truly aroused. Distracted was bad enough.
And then, he was finally free and running to the common room to learn the results of the game.
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Later, he swore to Ginny - really swore an oath – that he'd only intended to give her a hug. But the second her body pressed against his, it was obvious that his weeks and months of denial were finally at their limit. Kissing her happened almost without a thought, and Ron's acceptance made everything that much sweeter. He took her hand and led her out of the portrait hole and for once, Harry realized his body was totally under his control. It seemed that kissing Ginny had pushed all the rest of his crazy dreams and fantasies into the background to be unpacked later, when the time was right.
Instead, as soon as the common room door closed behind them, they stood in the silence and grinned at each other for a long moment.
"So," Harry finally said.
"So," Ginny said back. Her tongue darted out across her lips and Harry took a step forward.
Their second kiss was less frantic and surprising than their first. Harry traced Ginny's lips with his, and cupped the back of her head with his hand. His other hand was at her waist and it was all so brilliant he almost forgot to breathe. A thump from the other side of the portrait made them break apart, but Harry didn't move his hand from Ginny's waist.
"Maybe we should . . " he began, just as Ginny gestured down the corridor and said "do you want to . . .?"
They laughed together and it felt more than natural for Harry to slip his hand into Ginny's for the walk through the castle and outside to that part of the grounds he knew couldn't be seen from any of the windows.
They kissed a lot, that first day, and talked even more. Harry's body continued to obey him, even when Ginny opened her mouth against his and more or less climbed into his lap for better access. Her lips were swollen and her hair was almost as tousled as his when they finally, reluctantly, began walking back to the castle. Harry could not stop stealing glances at her.
"What?" she asked, a tease in her voice.
"You're just really beautiful," said Harry honestly.
Ginny flushed, but she also smiled, and then it turned into a snort. "Part of me wishes I could find a time-turner somewhere and go back to tell the ten-year-old Ginny not to lose hope." She squeezed his hand. "I told Hermione I'd given up on you, but I hadn't. Not really."
Harry had to stop and kiss her again, there on the path. "It's been a long year," he admitted. "And worrying about what Ron would say . . . well, I hope he's still okay with it once he gets over his shock."
"I'll make sure he is," said Ginny darkly, and Harry jumped back in mock horror. "Remind me to stay on your good side," he said.
"You can stay on all my sides," said Ginny happily.
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That night presented a dilemma. Harry had gotten used to falling asleep to thoughts of some elaborate fantasy involving Ginny and him, and very little clothing, and a lot of Gryffindor daring. Last night, there had even been a flight on a broom involved. But as he lay in bed that evening (after a thorough and wonderful snog goodnight), Harry warred with himself about what he wanted to do. None of his crazy former dreams held any appeal anymore. But sometime while he was kissing Ginny goodnight, Harry's body had given a twinge of interest, and he'd had to take a small step back away from her body.
It was as if it was saying okay, I let you get to know her lips, now it's my turn. Harry wasn't sure that the protocol should be. Was it weird, to want to have a wank to thoughts of your girlfriend? He really liked saying girlfriend. Should he be patient, and just let things unfold for real, no matter how long that took? Harry didn't know how long that might be; he didn't know how far Ginny had gone with Michael or Dean and he was certainly not about to ask his roommate. Dean had been quiet but cordial, but Harry was sure this was not easy for him.
But his body seemed to make up his mind for him. Just thinking about Ginny, and how it had felt to kiss her and hold her, was enough. He was hard, and this time when he touched himself, he was only a little embarrassed to imagine it was her hand there instead. Maybe one day it will be.
That was all it took, thinking that Ginny just might touch him down there at some point, and Harry climaxed. His roommates weren't all even in bed yet. Thankful he'd at least set a silencing charm, Harry cleaned himself up and then rolled over, falling into a sound sleep.
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Two days later Harry was sitting with Ginny under a tree on the far side of the lake. She was twisted sideways in his lap and they were kissing quite insistently. Harry was aroused, and trying to hide it. His legs had been splayed out in front of him but as their kisses heated up, he bent his knees and dropped Ginny's bum to the ground so he could both wrap his legs around her but also keep the necessary distance from the place where she leaned against him.
She scooted closer towards him and Harry shuffled himself back. He was leaning flush against the tree now, and when Ginny scooted again, Harry suddenly had nowhere else to go.
"Ginny," he groaned against her mouth. It was taking all his effort not to grind into where the side of her hip skimmed his arousal.
In answer, Ginny moved closer, and suddenly she was pressing up against him. It was delicious torture and Harry couldn't help but tighten his arms around her to hold her in place. A second later he realized what he was doing and startled so hard he broke their kiss.
"Oh, I umm. Sorry. Sorry about . . . that," he said, gesturing weakly between them. He knew his face was red. "I didn't mean to . . . I mean, I can't really . . . Oh hell." He stammered into silence and leaned his forehead against Ginny's. "I can't really help it," he said quietly.
Ginny stroked her hand down Harry's cheek. "It means you like me, doesn't it?"
"Yes!" the word burst out of Harry. "I like you a lot. More than a lot." He kissed her again. "And not just because of the kissing and because you make me . . . well, you know." Harry gestured again at his waist. "I'd like you even without all of that."
Ginny chuckled. "I'm just taking the mickey," she said. "I have six brothers, remember? I've overheard more conversations than I'd care to about how to 'hide your wand' when you're with a witch. It's quite a common topic of discussion. Not as common as going . . ." now Ginny blushed. "Umm, never mind," she said quickly.
Harry really wanted to know what Ginny had been about to say, but he suspected it might be a topic for when they were more comfortable with each other. Instead, he leaned into her for another kiss and let his arousal press a little further into her side. Ginny responded by scooting against him, grinning when he hissed with pleasure. He closed his eyes. "It really doesn't bother you?"
"It really doesn't," said Ginny. She was quiet for a moment and Harry opened his eyes to look at her. He took her hand.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
In response, Ginny blushed. "It bothered me with Michael," she said. "He was always pushing up against me and it just . . . I don't know. I didn't like it."
"You were younger," said Harry.
"Mmmhmm," agreed Ginny. "And I just didn't like him that much."
Harry didn't want to ask, but felt he needed to. "And . . . Dean?"
Ginny shrugged. "It wasn't as bad, with Dean." She looked quickly at Harry. "But we didn't do much about it. Nothing, umm, nothing under our clothes. Just a little . . . on top." She shrugged. "I didn't feel that strongly about it and he didn't push me."
"That's . . . ummm, that's good to know," said Harry. "That you don't feel strongly about it. I'll be, umm, I'll be careful not to, uhh, get it near you too often."
"No!" Ginny spoke forcefully. She twisted more in his lap so they almost faced each other.
"I don't mean . . . It's just . . ." she took a deep breath. "I think I do feel strongly about it. With you." Even as she blushed scarlet she was moving herself onto his lap again, facing him so she could straddle his waist.
Harry groaned. "Oh god, Ginny, that's . . . that's. . ." He wrapped his arms around her back to hold her in place. "Are you sure?"
Ginny nodded against his chest. "It feels good," she said. She wiggled a bit against him and Harry bit back a moan. "I didn't know what the big deal was before. For witches." She leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. Harry stroked her back. "I don't think I'm ready . . . today, to do anything beyond this, but I know I'm going to want to." She leaned back suddenly and looked him in the face. "Is that okay? I know that it's not so easy for a bloke to . . . stop." She buried her face in his chest and just the shift of pressure alone made Harry groan quietly. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable," she mumbled against him.
"Ginny, I can promise you, there is not a thing about this that is uncomfortable," said Harry firmly. "Quite the opposite." He gathered his thoughts. Might as well get it out there now. "Having you here, in my lap, it feels amazing." He gave her a squeeze. "It's a million times better than, umm, anything I . . . umm, could do . . . alone." He felt his face heat up. "I assume you've heard your brothers talk about that too?"
In his lap, Ginny gave a tiny snort. "For a long time, I didn't understand why I was always the last one to get a shower at the Burrow, or why my mum kept telling my dad that we really needed an extra loo when the twins came home after their second year." She was quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Anything," said Harry immediately. It was more than amazing to him that he felt so comfortable with he already.
Ginny snorted again. "As a sibling of Fred and George, I should warn you about agreeing to just 'anything' before you know what it is," she said.
Harry kissed her hair. "I don't care," he said. "I spent way too long wanting exactly this, right now with you. I'm happy to tell you anything."
Harry couldn't see Ginny's face, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Okay then," she said. "What I wanted to ask was, umm, whether you . . . thought of me. You know, when you . . ." She buried her face deeper into his chest.
"Ohhh," said Harry. "Umm, yeah. I do." He chuckled. "Actually, hell yeah I do. For a while now."
Ginny twisted to look at him. "Really? For a while? Before we even . . ."
"Uhh huh," Harry affirmed, nodding. "Since last summer at the Burrow, actually."
"Since then?" Ginny sounded rather incredulous, but not displeased, and Harry hurried to explain.
"Remember when you talked to me by the pond? And how we played a lot of two-a-side after that? I umm, started . . . after that. Thinking about you, I mean."
"Wow," said Ginny. "I was with Dean then."
"I know," said Harry fervently. "Trust me, I know. I . . . I didn't mean to think about you like that. I promise. It just kind of . . . happened."
Ginny was quiet for a minute. "I was thinking about you then too," she finally said. "Not all the time, and I was happy to be with Dean. But . . . sometimes I thought about you, and what it would be like to do . . . things. With you."
Ginny's revelation that she had been thinking about Harry for nearly as long as he'd been about her had the near immediate effect of arousing him further. He shifted her in his lap and moved his hands cautiously to her bum, slowly, so that she could stop him if she wanted. She didn't stop him, and Harry pressed her gently into him while he found her lips again for a kiss. She opened her mouth against his and, after a minute, wrapped her legs more firmly around Harry's waist.
The pressure in Harry's groin increased significantly and he couldn't help but thrust up against her. In response, Ginny tightened her legs even more, and they rocked together, kissing frantically. Harry's arms were around Ginny's waist and hers were in his hair and on the back of his neck, and Harry knew he was making noises of pleasure that he hoped could not escape the silencing charms he had set. Ginny made a tiny sound of enjoyment, low in her throat and it was Harry's undoing. Almost without warning that he was close, he climaxed, groaning her name as he released.
They rocked together a few more seconds and then Ginny stilled and looked down at him. "Did you just . . .?" she asked, eyes wide.
Harry nodded. "I couldn't help it. It just felt really, really good." In his mind's eye, he suddenly saw the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius and Bill lecturing him and Ron, nearly two years before. "I umm, it was brilliant, really," he said. "I didn't mean to get so carried away though." He moved Ginny gently off his lap. "Let me umm, clean everything up." He picked up his wand and carefully performed both Scourgicum and Erasemen on Ginny's clothing and stomach before attending to himself. She looked down.
"Wow," she said. "I have never heard those spells before. They worked really well." She smirked. "Did my dad teach you those when he taught Ron? I know he has 'a talk' with all my brothers before their third year."
"It's a bloke thing," said Harry. "And umm, no. Your dad taught us something else. These spells I got from Sirius. And, umm, from Bill." He remembered something suddenly. "And you can never tell him. Bill I mean. He can't know that I . . . that we. . . you just can't. Okay? Cause I really want to keep my bits intact."
Ginny giggled. "What exactly did Bill say?"
Harry sighed. "He said that the best type of girl to find is a 'nice girl' who is a little nervous about . . . all this, at first, but who also likes it, as long as the bloke lets her set the pace." He looked up. "Did I, umm, do that?"
Ginny nodded. "You did," she affirmed. "It felt really good." Her smile grew a little wicked. "So . . . I'm that type of nice girl my brother was talking about?"
"Umm, Bill might have made an exception. For you. I don't think he wants to think about you doing anything, but particularly not anything that would require a cleaning spell." He leaned his cheek against Ginny's head. "So please, if you ever want to do anything with me again, and that goes for just kissing too, please, don't let Bill know. Please."
"Probably Charlie too," Ginny laughed. "And could you imagine the twins?"
Harry groaned. "We definitely cannot tell the twins."
Ginny kissed him. "I'll warn Ron to keep his mouth shut," she said.
Harry sighed. "Thanks. I will too. Hopefully the fact that I was really decent to him about Lavender will help." He looked up towards the castle. "Getting to be time for supper, I think. And I wouldn't want to deprive you of a meal."
Ginny swatted him lightly. "I think I may have found something I like doing almost as much as eating," she said.