Part 2 - Autumn

Chapter 10 – Secrets in the Night

It was painfully early that Sunday morning that Harry found himself padding down the dormitory steps still in his pajamas, wishing he was asleep like his dorm mates. Ron woke him with a nightmare at around two, and Harry hadn't been able to drop off to sleep after. They hadn't talked about it. Harry had simply snuck over to Ron's bed and shook his shoulder until Ron sat up and, with wild eyes, had checked his arms. Harry knew he'd been dreaming about the Department of Mysteries again. The thin, white scars the brains had left him with still crisscrossed from his wrists to shoulders.

"Hermione?" Ron had eked out through rapid breaths.

"She's good," Harry had assured him. "Remember? She's recovered. She's sleeping."

Ron had nodded, and then dropped back into his pillow, but it still took him almost an hour to fall back asleep, and Harry had waited quietly on his own bed for the comforting sound of Ron's relaxed snore before he grabbed his pillow and decided to head down to the common room. If he was awake, he might as well get some meditation in, he reasoned. And maybe it would relax him enough to catch a few more hours before breakfast.

Harry almost tripped down the last two steps when he realized Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of the fire. He held his breath while he watched her, wondering if he should sneak back up to his dorm and leave her alone. But she didn't look as if she was crying or anything, and Harry couldn't seem to force his feet back on the stairs. It was late, and he was tired. He wanted to see her face. He missed the sound of her voice.

"You good?" Harry asked quietly from the staircase, not wanting to startle her.

She sighed, and then nodded. "How did you know I was down here?"

"Do you want to be alone?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, still looking at the fire. Her hair was a brilliant copper in the warm light.

Harry took that as an invitation, and dropped his pillow on a chair before seating himself next to her. "Can't sleep either?"

"I'm the only girl in my year in Gryffindor who came back. I'm all alone in the dorm room. It's…unsettling."

"Because of…your first year here." He didn't know why he was compelled to spell it out. She'd already made it clear that Riddle had attacked her repeatedly in her dorm. "How have you been managing?"

"I stayed in the Head Girl's room while Hermione was in hospital," Ginny told him.

"She's been back for days."

"I know."

"How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep?"

She shrugged. "The couch is surprisingly comfortable if you're tired enough," she quipped. "No worries."

"Come, on," Harry said, and he stood. She didn't move. "Ginny." He tapped her shoulder. "You can sleep in my bed."

If ever there was a look of incredulity, Ginny wore it then. "You've gone stark, raving."

"I'm serious," Harry said. "You can draw the curtains. We have an unspoken understanding in our dorm. No one will bother you."

"And where will you sleep?" she asked. "It's not like you can go up to my bed."

"I hear the couch is surprisingly comfortable," Harry said with a grin. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her up. He was taken aback by how little she weighed.

"Harry, this is a bad idea. What if I get caught?"

"We won't," he assured. "In seven years not one of us has ever broken the closed curtain code." Not even when Seamus got loud. "It'll be fine."

"Ernie wouldn't like it."

"If Ernie cares anything about you, he'd want you to sleep," Harry said, pulling her up the stairs. How could she argue that logic? She went willingly enough. "If I was Neville, Ernie wouldn't mind. He knows Neville's not a threat."

"Are you saying you're not a threat, then?" If she wasn't so anxious Harry might've thought she was flirting.

"Not if you don't want me to be," Harry said evenly. She didn't respond.

Harry poked his head in the room, but was greeted with the expected sounds of young wizards sleeping. Slowly he pulled Ginny in after him, lighting his wand, and watched as she climbed up on his mattress. His eyes lingered on her round bum. Pale blue knickers peaked out over her pajama bottoms. When she turned and sat on her heels, Harry offered her a warm smile.

"Sleep tight," he whispered, then pulled one curtain closed. Her hand shot up and stopped him from closing the other.

Her grip on his wrist was incredibly strong, and she tugged him to her. He went willingly, not understanding. Did she want to say something to him? Whisper something? He climbed in after her, and once he was clear of the curtains she pulled out her wand and shut them all.

"Ginny," Harry began, but she slammed her hand over his mouth so hard he grunted at the impact.

"Wha'?" It was Dean's voice. "Oh, come on, Potter! Quiet down in there! And turn off the light. That's disgusting! You don't need to see what you're doing!" Harry immediately extinguished his wand. Then there was the sound of Dean rolling over and muttering under his breath until once again soft snores came from that side of Harry's bed.

In the dark Harry felt Ginny's small hand on his shoulder, pulling him toward the top of the bed. She pressed him down into the mattress, and he felt her settle beside him. Her hair tickled the top of his arm, but that was the only place she continued to touch him. And still, he felt as if every cell in his body was aware of her. When the blankets came up and over them both, Harry's heart rate shot up, as did another part of his anatomy.

When the sun began to filter through the bed curtains, Harry realized he wasn't the only one who hadn't slept a wink. Ginny lay there on her side, looking at him, just as he was looking at her.


"But…but…" Harry knew it was going to be bad when Hermione stared at the common room board and began stammering. "Harry? Harry!" She turned to him, her eyes blazing. "But what have you done?"

"Er…" He'd forgotten to tell her that he mentioned the DA to Charlie and the rest of them.

"I thought…but…you asked me to help." Her anger was quickly giving way to hurt, and Ron popped his head up from the Quidditch magazine he'd been flipping through when her voice wavered a little with emotion. The shouting hadn't gotten his attention, but her distress had.

"Oi!" Ron said, hurrying over. "What is it, then?"

Hermione pointed to the board, and the brightly colored DA flyer posted there. "He's called a meeting for the DA on Friday night. Did you know anything about this?"

"Not me," Ron was quick to assure.

"I didn't know about it, either," Harry added, which was the absolute wrong thing to say.

"You had nothing to do with this?" she demanded. "There's a rogue DA member calling meetings and inviting the whole bloody school?"

Ron sucked in a breath at Hermione's slip, and a wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth.

Harry jutted out his jaw, and tried to ignore him. "Of course not. I may have mentioned it to Charlie and Tonks and the rest of them–"

"Tonks?" Hermione practically shrieked. "You've asked for her help? With the DA? But…but she's a teacher! She's going to turn it into a club or something!"

"Well, yeah. Like a dueling club," Harry said. "You're the one who suggested open recruitment, and bringing Tonks and Charlie in to help. Remember?"

"A dueling club?" She spat it out with the same skeptical disgust one might reserve for a Draco Malfoy fan club. "You've gone mad!"

"You said yourself that I've a lot going on this term. We've all got a lot going on, and this will help take some of the pressure off-"

"The DA, Harry. Dumbledore's Army! It's not Defensive Arts!" She ripped the flyer off the wall and waved it at him. "We didn't go to the Department of Mysteries as a dueling club! We learned serious magic with the DA! We went underground and thwarted authority, we fought for the knowledge we had a right to know, and we did it on our terms! And now you're announcing it to the whole school? You're letting the teachers lead?"

"Whose authority do you want to thwart, exactly? McGonagall's? And what aren't they teaching us? If the professors are leading-"

Hermione shook her head. "It's the DA! It's ours!"

"Don't you mean yours?" Harry challenged.

Hermione's face dropped. "I mean ours. Yours and mine and Ron's."

"Are you mad because Tonks will be teaching? Because I'm not," Harry told her. "You may have learned loads with the DA, but I didn't. And I, of all people, need to know as much magic as possible."

"I don't care about who teaches," Hermione said.

"Then it's because it's not a secret anymore?" Harry asked. "You also said open enrollment – you said it didn't need to be a secret anymore."

"It's because you gave it away, and it wasn't yours to give," Hermione said.

"No," Ron said, so quiet Harry wasn't entirely sure he'd said anything at all. And then Ron looked up at Hermione, he met her gaze and said calmly, "It's because he asked someone else for help."

"But he asked me first!" she wailed. "Tonks wasn't here! She doesn't know! And he's letting her run the DA! They've turned Dumbledore's Army into a Defensive Arts dueling club! Don't you care?"

Ron looked from Hermione to Harry. "I want to learn, too. I need to know what to do in every situation, and if that means Tonks is running the DA, then…well…at least I'll be prepared."

"Prepared for what exactly?" Hermione asked.

"Voldemort," Ron told her. "Death Eaters. Horcruxes."

"Falls down stone steps?" Hermione supplied. "Ron, that was an accident-"

He gave a sharp jerk of his head, and she fell silent. Red faced, Ron stared hard at her shoulder for a moment, his mouth nothing more than a thin line. "Harry's right," he said quietly. "We're not in fifth year any more. This is real."

"What does that mean?" Hermione demanded.

Ron finally met her gaze. "It means that it's life and death now, and I'm not going to lose you."

Her face softened, saddened. "Oh, Ron. You won't-"

"I don't care who's running the DA. I don't care who's posting the adverts, or even if Harry asked Percy for help. If something happens – when something happens – I want to know what to do."

And that was that. Hermione gave Harry a frustrated groan, and then took Ron by the hand and led him back to the couch by the fireplace. They sat together for a while not talking. They worked on their Herbology essay together, and Harry watched from across the room, doing his own homework, thinking about the DA and falls down stairs, and Ginny.


Double Potions was the last class of the week, and as Harry walked out behind Ron and Hermione he couldn't help but think back to simpler times when he might've found comfort in the approaching weekend. Now he had a lesson with Esmerelda, and the first DA meeting of the year, followed by hours and hours of homework and essays, and still more lessons before Monday morning's Herbology came around again.

Harry was exhausted. In the six nights Ginny had been sleeping in his bed, he'd barely closed his eyes. Every time she moved or breathed funny he was wide-awake again, heart hammering, cock throbbing, aching to touch her. Harry knew why Ron called it a cock now; it was up before the sun.

Ginny was sleeping well, though, so he couldn't begrudge her a place next to him. And he certainly couldn't send her back to an empty dorm room alone. He told himself it was selfless to keep Ginny next to him at night, that it was for her benefit alone. It was a hard thing to believe, and still, he snuck her in every night.

"Harry? I said, don't you agree?" Hermione was walking backwards in front of him as they made their way down the corridor. She looked at him expectantly.

Harry hadn't a clue what she was on about. "Yeah," he said.

"I mean, honestly! Ten points! For not reading the chapter in class? But I'd already read the chapter! What's the point of reading it again?" She was still fuming, but not as much as Ron, who had less to say, but was twice as red.

"Bloody bugger," Ron said.

"Ron, don't swear." Her reprimand was almost automatic. Harry wondered if either of them heard it anymore.

"'You will address me as Mr. Weasley or sir,'" Ron mimicked. "What the bloody hell is that? I'll address him as wanker, that's what I'll do!"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione admonished.

"What? He sighted you for reading ahead in the book! Like he'd never done that before! And he called you a brown nose! As if you'd suck up to a bloody waster like him!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, too tired to form any real argument.

But Ron was right. Prissy Percy aside, Double Potions had been unnecessarily brutal. Without the traitor Snape or Malfoy at Hogwarts, it should've been all bliss and joy. Who would've guessed that now that Ron had Hermione, and Neville was no longer taking Potions, that Harry would be paired with the only other partner-less student in the class. Ernie Macmillian. Harry nearly choked on the irony of Ernie's, "No hard feelings, Potter. Shall we share?"

It had been a long, long hour and a half of Harry struggling with the recipe of a N.E.W.T. level potion, a condescending professor, and the knowledge that Ginny was shagging his Potions partner even while she would sleep soundly, if chastely, in Harry's bed that night. And why did Ernie have to be such a stand-up bloke? It was difficult to hate him. Hell, it was difficult not to admire him. Ginny was right. Ernie was better than Harry, and he was in every way the boyfriend she deserved. Harry was rubbish.

"Oi, there, Harry. You all right, mate?" Ron studied him closely, put a hand to Harry's shoulder. "You don't look right."

"Good," Harry lied.

"We've some time before Defense this afternoon," Hermione said, now just as concerned at Ron. "Why don't you have a lie down? I'll look over your Charms homework for you." As she was aware that he hadn't yet finished his Charms homework, he rather thought she was offering to do it for him.

"No, I'm good," Harry insisted. He didn't want to be coddled. He didn't want their compassion. He was sharing a bed with Ernie's girlfriend, breaking any number of school rules in the process, and he knew he had no intention of willingly ending it.

"Dinner, then?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. There was no way his stomach would accept food at the moment. "I think I'll just go back to the library and start on the Transfiguration assignment."

"But…but that's not due until next week," said Ron.

"Is it your scar?" Hermione said quickly, in hushed tones.

"No, it's not my bloody scar! Why do you always assume – look, I don't ask you if it's your menses every time you're in a mood, do I?" He pushed past her, and stormed up the stairs.

And, as he rounded the corner and started up the Grand Stair Ginny was coming down. They both hesitated. Her face was neutral, and Harry thought he could drink her up. But then Ernie called out to her, and her gaze flipped away, like a casually cast spell, and she walked past him. Harry didn't turn. He walked slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, his Transfiguration forgotten, and lay face down on his bed until it was time for class.


It was later that night that Harry dragged himself to the Defense classroom after supper to find Esmerelda setting up the room.

"Oh," Harry said. "I thought it was almost…isn't tonight the DA? I thought our lesson wasn't until-"

"Tonks is busy tonight. Charlie and I are covering the DA for her."

"Busy? It's the first DA meeting," Harry said. Esmerelda met his gaze, but didn't offer any explanations. "Is it Order?"

"If it was, you know I couldn't answer that, Harry," Esmerelda said.

"Or is it Lupin?" Harry asked. Her expression gave it away. "Oh, bloody brilliant. We're supposed to have our first DA meeting and she's out having a shag!"

"They're happy, Harry. You can't begrudge them that."

He shook his head. "It's not fair. Everyone's shagging but me."

"Not everyone," she said dryly. "But yeah, it does feel that way sometimes, doesn't it?"

The DA that night was made up of all the students interested in extracurricular spell work from all four houses, open to third years and up. Nearly everyone turned up, which, in retrospect wasn't very surprising at all considering the climate of the Magical world. One would have to be oblivious or a serious loafer not to jump at the opportunity to get some practical defensive work in.

Everyone nervously gathered on the thick green mat. Students were quickly paired off to practice some basic hexes and counter hexes on each other. Ron was matched with Hermione, and Harry with Ginny. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked very serious, and her gaze kept flickering over to Ernie, who'd been paired with Luna.

"Want to switch partners, do you?" Harry asked, his wand already up, ready for her strike.

Her eyes lit up, and she raised her wand at him. "I'm quite happy with the bloke I've got," she said.

This left Harry grinning. "The bloke you've got now?" He glanced across the room at Ernie, who was already sending a volley of hexes at Luna. Harry was proud to see Luna was easily Shielding against them. "Looks like I'm the bloke you've got now," he quipped. "Your boyfriend's busy at the moment."

"You wish, Potter," she snapped, but there was the smallest of smiles at the corner of her mouth.

"I reckon I won't have to wish for too long," Harry almost whispered. With the crash and bang of spells going off around them he doubted anyone could hear them, even if they were listening, but he took a few steps toward her anyway, and bent in close to her when he added: "I know where you'll be sleeping tonight."

Her cheeks blushed furiously, her eyes flashed. "Don't be so sure," she quipped.

Harry raised his brows. "No? Found a way into Hufflepuff past the Aurors, have you?"

She looked more annoyed, and shot the Locklegs Jinx at him. It was a first year spell, and Harry effortlessly deflected it. "Bloody berk," she said.

"Come on, Ginny. You've done me better than that," he said.

"In your dreams," she hissed.

"In my dreams, on your parents' couch, in your bed-"

She cast again, this time with a Severing Spell that took quick reflexes and a Shield Spell to deflect.

"Ginny! Good!" came Esmerelda's call from across the room.

A twisted smile grew across Ginny's face, transforming her beautiful mouth into something almost mean. She took aim and shot a series of spells at Harry, hard and fast and well-aimed. He jumped and dove, he Shielded, and then he had to cast back just to slow her down. He started with Expelliarmus, but she cast a spell Harry had never heard before, and Harry's spell was thrown to the right and hit Hermione square between the shoulders, knocking her to the ground. Ron's fury was instant and palpable, and he dove for Hermione while shooting off a Pummel Curse that managed to get past Ginny's defenses. She flew backwards into Neville, and the two of them landed off the mat, and on the hard stone floor. Ginny rolled off her friend, but the wind was knocked out of her, and she curled on her side cradling her belly. Harry rushed to her, slid to a stop on his knees beside her.

Ron was helping Hermione up, and Harry reached for Ginny, but her breath came back to her in one enormous gulp and she hexed him with Burning Boils. Harry fell away from her, his skin on fire. He screwed his eyes shut against the pain, and bit off a yelp. And then, just as suddenly as he was hit, the pain went away. Harry blinked up at Charlie, who stood above him with an offered hand. Harry, aching and winded, took the help, but still had trouble getting to his feet. His head was spinning.

Ginny stood too, a protective arm across her middle. The rest of the class watched silently, waited.

Charlie's face was uncharacteristically somber, as he eyed both Ginny and Harry. Esmerelda, on the other hand, was beaming.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," she announced to the class, "is how you duel."


He wasn't surprised when Ginny didn't come to his bed that night, but he couldn't help his disappointment. As exhausted as Harry was, he couldn't relax enough to doze, so once the clock tower chimed midnight Harry pushed his sore body from bed and padded barefoot down to the common room. She was on the floor in front of the fireplace, just as he expected her to be. Her knees were drawn up, her ankles crossed, her arms were loosely looped around her legs.

Without turning, she said, "Looking for Ron, are you?" Her voice was like a balm to his nerves.

"Ron?" The urge to touch her flooded him, and he found himself taking a step back just to keep from reaching out and running his fingers over her smooth hair.

"He went up to her room a bit ago," she said. "Was worried I hurt her in the DA. When did he turn in to such a girl?"

"Probably when he knocked her down the stairs and almost bloody killed her. Can't say I'm exactly over that myself."

Ginny did turn now, and when her gaze met his he felt it like a dagger through his chest. "Going to go up and check on her, too, then? She's Head Girl. She's got her own stair."

"She's all right, isn't she?" Harry asked.

"She's all right? She was hit with Expelliarmus, for Merlin's sake! I was the one hit in the stomach with a Pummel Curse! But no one's worried about me, are they? No one's rushing up to my dorm to make sure I'm all right!"

"I came down here to see that you're all right," Harry said. "You're all right, aren't you?"

She scowled. "Oh, go check on Hermione. I know you want to." Then she turned back to the fire.

"Maybe I'll sit with you a bit-" Harry began, but she cut him off.

"I'd rather you didn't."

Harry swallowed. "All right, then. Come up to bed."

She sighed, and her shoulders seemed to deflate. "No. We can't do that anymore."

"Do what?" Harry asked. "We weren't doing anything."

"You know that's not true. That's why you said what you said in the DA tonight."

"I was just taking the mickey."

"I know," said Ginny. "And still…even though we weren't doing anything…I just can't anymore."

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged. "I'll figure something out. Go see to Hermione. Then get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"Maybe Hermione will let you bunk with her for a bit," Harry suggested.

"I'm fine," she protested.

"I'll ask her anyway," he said, and headed back up the stairs. Halfway up, he took the door to the Head Girl's room. He'd never been in there before – in fact, this was the first time since Harry had been at Hogwarts that there was a Head Girl in Gryffindor, and so the door and the stair were completely new. It was odd that it wasn't at least password protected. At the moment Harry was grateful.

The top landing was like a corridor of its own, with a thick rug and a few paintings of flowers sitting in pots. One of them had a bowl of fish. The thick wood door near the end was open. Harry froze as soon as he walked inside, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

Ron was starkers, but Harry barely registered that he was there. It was Hermione, lying stretched out on her bed, bare and pale, that captured the attention of every cell in his body. Her hair was fluffy and soft thrown above her head, her arms were flung up in her hair leaving her breasts exposed like fried eggs on her ribcage. Her stomach fell away to a flat plane that curved over her belly just before it sloped down into the dark triangle of curls at her legs. Knees bent, thighs flush, she gasped shallow breaths through open lips making a sound that went straight to Harry's cock. Her hips worked a little, her bare feet dug into the mattress. She was in ecstasy, and so very lovely.

Her head lolled to one side and then the other, a whimper hitched on her breath. She reached down to the ginger head between her legs, and ran a loving hand over it. Her eyes flickered open, her gaze locked with Harry's, and for one panicked moment he thought she might scream. She gasped, half-lurched, and Ron poked his head up.

"You never finished, did you? So soon?"

She shook her head. "Don't stop."

He dove back down, holding her open with two fingers from one hand, and plunged inside her with two fingers from the other. His mouth went back to work as well, and its wet slurping sounds. Hermione stretched back out, closed her eyes again, and inhaled deeply. Her breasts rose as her chest swelled with each breath. "More," she whispered, and a third finger slipped inside her. She hummed, opened her eyes. She watched Harry watching her. Sweat broke out on his upper lip.

One of her hands smoothed over her belly, and then up to cup the underside of her breast. Harry's mouth went dry. She pinched her own nipple, and Harry almost choked.

Then her eyes closed, and she turned her head away, and her body tensed. She gripped her breast tight, strained toward Ron. Like a rope snapping, she crested, and Harry remembered to breathe. And it was then that Ron, his own cock in hand, face wet, lifted over her and pressed himself between her legs. He dipped his head, thrust his tongue in her mouth, and then sank down inside her. They both groaned at the pleasure.

When Ron's hips began to pump, Harry forced himself away, and back down the stairs. He met Ginny coming up.

"Harry, I'm sorry about before," she began, "I didn't mean to suggest that you don't care about Hermione-"

He needed her; his whole body ached, screamed for her. Grabbing her shoulders, he crushed his mouth against hers, and then pushed her back against the wall. She gasped, and he knew she felt his excitement pressing into her hip. Her hands grabbed his face. She began to kiss him back. Their tongues dueled for dominance, and when she won, Harry forced her hips high enough on the wall for him to wedge himself between her legs. Her thighs wrapped around him, her arms wound around his neck. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and Harry growled. He rocked against her. His hands slipped down to her ass, and he kneaded as he held her. She rocked back.

He pressed her harder into the wall, and reached down between them. Of course she was wearing pajama bottoms, when a gown would've been so much easier. He wasn't going to be able to get to her knickers without putting her down.

"Harry, wait," she gasped, but he kissed her even harder. He reached up and cupped her breast. She turned her head. "Stop."

"I want you."

"We can't, Harry. Oh, Merlin, stop."

The anguish in her voice broke his heart. He lowered her back to the ground, and pressed his forehead to the wall behind her. They stood there for a moment, still touching, but not touching. Breathing.

"What have we done?" she whispered. A lump formed in his throat. "I've got a boyfriend."

"Shut up about your bloody boyfriend!" Harry barked, and whirled away from her. The air was cold on the stair. "Fuck!"

"I'm a cheater," she cried. "You've made me a cheater!"

"It isn't cheating. You're supposed to be with me, not him."

"But I'm not with you!"

"I…l-love you," he said. His voice cracked. Three words, and he felt them hanging in the air between them.

She shook her head. "What? You say that now? Now? When I can't say them back?"

"You can," he said quietly. "You've said them before."

"I'm with Ernie now," she said, throwing up her hands. "I've cheated on Ernie! He doesn't deserve this! He's the best boyfriend I've ever had!"

"Dump him," Harry told her.

"I will not!"

But he couldn't listen anymore. His body vibrated, his mind hummed with such raw need that he practically threw himself at her. And she was there when he landed. She kissed him back, teeth and tongues. They were angry kisses, rough hands, clawing and pulling him closer. He pushed her t-shirt up, squeezed her bare breast. Her hips bucked against him, and she made a sound that was half-angry, half-desperate.

He forced her back against the wall, and his thumbs hooked inside the elastic waist of her pajamas and knickers together, and he shoved them down over her hips. Gravity did the rest.

"Harry-"

"Hex me," he said in her ear. "Hex me and I'll stop."

He shoved his own pajamas down and then grabbed her ass again and pushed her far enough up the wall that he felt the hot wet of her slide over the head of his cock. His hips bucked. This was it.

"Harry, please."

"Hex me," he repeated. "We both know you can best me if you want to."

She was gasping, kissing his jaw as she said, "I don't have my wand."

He silently called his, and then he pressed his wand into her hand, and pushed her hand against the wall above her head. "Hex me now, Ginny," he whispered against her lips. "I don't think I can stop unless you stop me."

She whimpered against his mouth, and then suckled his bottom lip. His hips responded on their own, and he thrust up just as her hips curled. Stars exploded behind his eyes, his lungs locked up. Slowly he lowered her down and she sank on to his cock. And just when he thought he was in, he sank in even deeper. Her legs tightened around him, one over his hip, one around the back of his thigh. She gasped, he grunted. She was so fucking tight.

"Wait," she breathed, grabbed his shoulder as he began to thrust. "Harry, please. It hurts."

"Hurts? Why does it…am I doing it wrong? Is this wrong?" It felt bloody right to him.

"It's just been a while…just…give me a…"

"A while since last week?" Harry asked, fighting the urge to thrust. He wasn't entirely successful.

She sucked in another breath, and he felt her trying to adjust around him. His thighs were burning, shaking from her weight and his fatigue, and the need to pound into her. His arms shook, too, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold her up. But his cock throbbed from the pleasure of her every breath, and Harry thought he'd rather die than pull out. The pain in his legs and arms was nothing.

"Last week…what was last week?" Her voice was tense, distracted. "Ow!"

"Why does this hurt you so bloody much?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. Hermione certainly hadn't been in pain. "Didn't Ernie-"

"I didn't do this with Ernie," she said quickly. "Stop saying his name. Oh, Merlin, I'm a slag."

"No," Harry breathed.

"Yes," she insisted. "Why am I doing this? What will I say to Ernie?"

"Nothing! Fuck, Ginny, I've got to…" He thrust, and she gave a little cry. His heart twisted for her.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispered to her. "If you want me to stop now-"

"I hate you," she said against his ear. "I love you."

He thrust again, and she began to slide down a little. He inched in deeper. "Dump Ernie."

"Shut up and fuck me," she said.

"I love you," he told her again as he began to pump.

"It's about bloody time."

His legs finally began to wobble, and she began to slip, and Harry went down hard on his knees to keep them joined. She adjusted in his lap, and then he pressed her against the wall again with the new leverage. Her breasts bounced with his every thrust, but he had to keep his hands on her hips to steady her. He tried to kiss her. She pressed her forehead into his neck. He felt hot tears on his chest.

He sat back on his heels, and hugged her tight. "I'll stop," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Gin."

"Finish," she said.

"I don't think I can." Not with her in tears.

She pushed up to stand, but it was awkward and he had to help her. His cock glistened painfully in the cold air. Ginny hurriedly pulled on her pajamas and snatched up her knickers as she ran down the stairs.

"Ginny, wait!" Harry pulled up his own pajamas and hurried after her. She didn't stop, though, and once she got to the girls' dorm steps she scrambled up without looking back. Harry stared after her, his pajamas tented, his body shaking, wondering what the hell he'd just done.