Part 2 - Autumn
Chapter 11 – First Times Revealed
Hermione greeted Harry at breakfast the next morning as if nothing had happened, and Ginny managed to avoid him the whole day, both of which Harry found extremely upsetting. By supper Harry found himself sitting at the Gryffindor table unable to meet Ron's eyes or swallow the Cornish pastie on his plate.
"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, his cheek full of cooked carrots. "You look a bit peaked."
Harry glanced briefly at Hermione, who was watching him with the same concern Ron showed. Harry's eyes dropped back down to his plate. "Fine," he said.
"Harry," Hermione began. "Um…Harry…if this is about-"
"I'm fine," he snapped, terrified she was going to reference what he'd witnessed the previous night. She hadn't told Ron, Harry was fairly sure. Ron was still talking to him, after all, and he hadn't yet hexed him into tomorrow. Or, had she told him? Was Ron all right with it? Harry's stomach clenched, and any possibility of eating supper was lost.
Harry wrapped his pastie in a napkin and shoved it into his pocket as he left the Great Hall.
Harry heard the yelling even before he opened the Defense door. Later he would wonder why he didn't just turn and walk away. After all, it didn't sound as if Esmerelda remembered they had a lesson. Maybe it was the double explosions, one coming fast on the heels of the next that compelled Harry's over-developed hero complex to throw open the door and race to the rescue once again, only to find there was no one to be saved. Or, maybe it was the soul-deep weariness that left his usually uncanny intuition dulled to the point of stupidity.
Charlie and Esmerelda were dueling. They leapt on desks and the mezzanine stairs, dove for cover behind shelves and columns, cast Shield Spells without a noticeable flick of the wand, all the while they shouted at each other what could only be slurs and curses in Romanian. Harry would've thought it a well-choreographed dance except for the shocking fact that both of them were bleeding from multiple wounds, not the least of which was an ugly slash across Esmerelda's neck and shoulder. The classroom looked as if it had been through an earthquake; chairs and bookcases over-turned and one of the skeletons was even shattered. The two of them were sweating and winded as if they'd been at it for hours.
"Eşti frumoasă," Charlie practically growled. Harry was surprised to see, even fighting and bleeding from his chin, Charlie had a shadow of a smile on his face. Was he enjoying himself?
"Harry?" Esmerelda came up short and turned to him. Charlie took that opportunity to slam Esmerelda in the side of the head with a Stun Charm. She toppled over on her left and hit the floor like a wood plank.
"Oh, shit!" Charlie jumped over a downed chair and ran to her side. "Shit, shit, shit!" He knelt beside her. His eyes were wide and frantic as he cried, "She's going to kill me!"
"Because you hit her? Weren't you trying to hit her?"
Charlie glared at him. "Do you want something?"
"Oh…well…no, I suppose-"
"Then get the blood hell out of here!" Charlie turned back to Esmerelda, frozen on her side. He sighed deeply. "Shit."
"How can she be angry that you Stunned her?" asked Harry. "Surely she wouldn't want you to go easy on her."
"Easy on her? Are you mad? She's been going easy on me! Now she's going to – bloody hell. Mere, I'm sorry." But instead of releasing her from the hex, Charlie played with his wand for a long moment.
"Aren't you going to right her?"
"It's just…she's so pleasant like this, isn't she?" And then he cooed at her in Romanian, with his deep voice gentle. Blood colored his teeth pink. It was amazing to see the complex emotions that played over Charlie's sweaty, battered face. Hermione was right. It was painfully obvious.
"Ah, well. I reckon there's no getting around it." Charlie stood and aimed his wand at Ez's chest. "Harry, you might want to stand over there."
Harry hurried to the other side of the room just at Charlie cast Invenerate. Esmerelda was on her feet a moment later, wand drawn, but not at Charlie.
"What have you done?" she demanded of Harry. She took several deliberate steps toward him, her wand aimed at his head. "You selfish prick! What did you do?"
"What?" Harry asked. But he knew that she knew. The anger in her dark eyes couldn't be about anything else. "You're Reading me? I can't feel-"
"You're Broadcasting!" she snapped. "And yes, you should be afraid! What did you…oh, fuck me!"
Harry began to panic. He tried to think of anything except Ginny and Hermione, which of course, brought those thoughts right to the forefront. His emotions were so raw, and he was so tired, she could read him like a book. He backed toward the door, but she shut it with a flick of her wrist, and cast Impervious to keep him in.
"Mere? What's going on? What did he do? Mere, he's a student. You can't cast against him. I'm serious. Mere, lower your wand. Mere!" She didn't budge, and Charlie's face went red with tension. "Harry? What the bloody hell?"
But Harry couldn't bother to answer. It took every ounce of strength and concentration to hide the worst of it from her, and she was staring him down, soaking up every last thought spiraling out of control in his mind. He tried to focus on nothing at all, and then Hermione was there – her breasts, her belly, her stunning eyes staring at him while she touched herself and Ron kissed her core and made her come. And then he remembered running away as Ron pushed into her, and finding Ginny on the stairs. He saw her beautiful face twisted in pleasure as he pushed her pajamas down, and then his. Fuck, she was hot and wet and crying on his shoulder. He hurt her. Her face twisted in pain. And then she was running away, and he was running after her, and he watched her disappear up the stairs…
"Harry," Esmerelda said. "That's not how to clear your head. I've taught you better than that. You're pathetically easy to Read." And he could feel her now, pushing through the memories, stringing thoughts together, pulling out the hidden desires. This wasn't just him Broadcasting – she was in his mind.
"Get out of my head," he said through gritted teeth. "That's not for you!" Hermione's breasts, her hips, her thighs spread wide as Ron held her open and kissed between her legs. Tears of shame prickled his eyes, and Harry felt himself go hot with humiliation and remorse. He shouldn't have seen that, he shouldn't have watched.
"Push me out, Potter."
Hermione's hand on her own breast, teasing her own pale brown nipple, watching him watching her as she did it, as she wove her other hand through ginger hair.
"Mere," Charlie said sharply.
"Bloody bitch!" Harry yelled. "Stop! Get out!"
"But you didn't stop when she said stop, did you, Potter?" Esmerelda said. "How many times did she say stop?"
He remembered Ginny push at his hips. He had hurt her, but why had it hurt? It was only supposed to hurt the first time. Even Ron had said that. He didn't want to hurt her, and she felt so bloody good…
Harry shook his head. He couldn't stop the memories from coming any more than he could stop the tears from falling. "No," he croaked out around a sob. Spittle flew from his mouth. He couldn't reign in the anguish, couldn't hide it, but he tried until it finally overwhelmed him and erupted. "No, no, no, no…I hurt her like he did!"
"Like who did?" Charlie asked. "Hurt who? What's he on about?"
"Tom Riddle," Harry choked out. "Voldemort."
Charlie's face went angular and fierce. "You hurt Ginny," he said with a deadly tone. "Harry, you didn't."
Harry couldn't help but nod. Let Charlie kill him. It wasn't anything more than he deserved.
Esmerelda shoved the heels of her hands against her temples and sucked in a breath. "I need to talk to Harry alone. Charlie. Leave now! I can't take you and him at the same time when he's like this." She looked in genuine pain. "Fuck, Harry! Calm down! I can't take this." She practically threw her wand at the door, and there was a flash of magic as the Impervious was countered.
"You won't have to take it," Charlie said as he put his wand away, and rolled his sweat-stained, bloody sleeves up above his muscled forearms. "I'm going to kill him!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Esmerelda snapped. "Enough of the male bravado. He hasn't done anything to her that you haven't done to me, you selfish son of a bitch."
"What?" Charlie cried. He looked at Harry with renewed anger. "What did you do?"
Esmerelda gave a whimper, and she swayed a little on her feet. "Charlie, go check on Ginny. Make sure her back's OK."
"Her back?" Charlie asked. "Did you hit her?
"I didn't do anything to her back!"
"No, but the stone wall you had her against most certainly did."
"WHAT?" Charlie roared.
"Oh, shut up. You had me against a tree. I had bruises for a week."
Charlie whirled on her, and she flinched back as if she'd been hit. She doubled over, hand cradling her head. "Charlie, damn it, get the fuck out of here! You're killing me!"
Charlie turned to Harry, and Harry braced for a punch to the face. Instead he stared down Charlie's blunt finger. "Don't think you're safe, Harry. I'll find you later." There was no reason to doubt him.
Esmerelda visibly sagged when the door slammed shut behind Charlie. "Fuck, that hurts," she muttered. Then she looked up at Harry, and took a deep breath. "Are you even trying to control your thoughts?"
"You were the one picking through my head," Harry accused. "You had no right to do that!"
"You want to talk about taking liberties? How about Ginny telling you to stop, and you telling her to make you. You had her pressed against a fucking wall, Harry! And she was wandless!"
"That's none of your business!"
"Some might call that rape."
It was an ugly word, and it hit him like a boulder. Harry backed away from her, turned, and still he couldn't seem to catch his breath. "No," he moaned. "No. She was kissing me. She was caught up in the moment, too. I could never-"
"Keep fucking her after she told you you were hurting her? Yes, it seems you could."
"I didn't…" he muttered, like a dying mantra. But he had. He'd hurt her the same way Riddle had. He was Voldemort. It was more than just the scar that connected them. He was dangerous. He was…no. He wasn't evil. Was he?
"I didn't mean to hurt her…I didn't mean to…"
With one hand still pressed to her head, Esmerelda said, "All right, now, Harry. Calm down. You're not evil. And you're not Voldemort, so let's not get carried away."
He shook his head. "I've got to get out of here! I've got to get as far away from her-" He fell over backwards, and only then did he register the words Petrificus Totalus. The bloody bitch froze him.
"Yes, well, I may be a bitch, but this conversation's going to be a lot easier without you interrupting with bouts of hysteria." Esmerelda pulled one of the desk chairs over and sat down heavily next to Harry. She wiped at the wound on her neck as if it was a nuisance that it was still bleeding. Maybe she'd pass out from lack of blood. Maybe she'd take him with her.
"No such luck, Potter. And I'd just like to point out that your every thought so far has been about you and what you're going to do and how this makes you feel. In the last five minutes you haven't worried once about how Ginny is right now, or how she's going to deal with what happened last night."
It was as if she'd sent a bolt of electricity through him, the truth of what she said shocked him through to his very core. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think past no, it can't be…
"Oh, Harry." She sighed. "Try not to think for a moment. Just listen." But then she didn't say anything. She just sat there looking miserable, tired and beaten. Her eye make-up was smeared from sweat. The cut on her neck looked painful.
"It's fine," she told him.
Unfreeze me, he thought.
Not yet. Give me a chance to explain. And then she went quiet again.
Harry rolled his eyes.
"It's not like there's a Hallmark card for this situation, Harry. It's difficult."
So, unfreeze me. I want to sit up. What is that buzzing?
You hear that? She snorted. I guess you would. He's ranting. At least at this distance the pain isn't quite so sharp. You don't feel the pain, do you?
That's Charlie? You can Read him even when he's not in the room? I didn't know Legilimens could do that.
We can't. It's not Legilimency.
Does Charlie know you can hear his thoughts?
I should hope so. He's yelling at me. It doesn't sound like buzzing in my head. Buzzing would be nice…
So, what is it if it's not Legilimency?
It's a mistake I made a long time ago. I think I'll pay for it forever.
What does that mean?
There are side-effects that linger even after the Bond is broken. Years after, apparently. And Charlie Broadcasts.
Bond?
"Enough." She rubbed her temple and sighed again. "You know, this might be easier just to show you. You're of age, and even if you weren't, after what you were up to last night…fuck, I don't want to think about this." She took a deep breath, and then sat forward. "All right, Potter. Catch."
He closed his eyes and braced himself for the memory that flew at him.
He saw Charlie in Muggle clothes; a shirt and jeans with a rucksack over his shoulder. No burns on his face or neck. He was younger, thinner, less muscular. It was dark, and there was a smell of sulfur in the air. It was cold, and Harry shivered.
The portkey left them a few kilometers from the town, so they walked along the road. Harry was scared, but he didn't know why. He knew he'd never been there before, but he remembered the place well. There was a large yellow sign up ahead, and beyond it was a cottage he'd hidden behind at as a child. But that didn't make any sense.
It's my memory, Esmerelda said. Not yours. Don't think, let me do it for you.
Charlie took his hand – my hand, Potter – and leaned a little closer. "You're cold, are you?"
"No," Esmerelda lied. She didn't want him to think she was weak. And it wasn't that cold, it was summer after all. Was he flirting with her? Why was he holding her hand? She didn't normally touch strangers. Or anyone, really, and his hand felt large and solid clutching hers. It felt nice, but foreign. And why was this stranger holding her hand?
"So…how do you know Dumbledore?" Charlie asked after a moment. He was clearly grasping for a conversation. She hoped he wouldn't be one of those nervous people who was scared of silence. It was irritating to be paired up with a wizard who Broadcasted, but at least he wasn't a screamer. No, he didn't even Broadcast all the time, and even when he did, it wasn't always…unpleasant. And there were moments, like now, when she couldn't hear him at all.
"Dumbledore? It's a long story," she said.
"We've got some time, I reckon."
"I was just trying to say it's none of your business in a nice way."
"Oh." She had hoped that would be enough to deter him. She wasn't so lucky. "You Americans can be blunt-"
"I'm not an American, you idiot! I'm a British citizen!"
"You sound American."
"I sound Canadian! I lived in Canada. There's huge difference."
"If you say so." Charlie didn't seem in the least bothered by her outburst. In fact, he seemed amused. "Esmerelda." He said her name as if he was trying it out. "Esmereeeelda. You know, it's not a very British name."
"Shut up."
"I didn't catch the last name."
"No, you didn't."
"Funny, really, because I do distinctly remember Dumbledore introducing me as Charlie Weasley." And then she caught a whiff of his thoughts, like smoke on the breeze. She's hiding something…
She didn't respond, and they walked along for a couple of moments in blissful silence.
"So, it's just the one name, then? Esmerelda? Like Merlin?"
"Yes, like Merlin," she snapped. "It's exactly like Merlin."
"Shall I call you Esmerelda, then? Or Ezzy?"
"Not if you want to live."
Charlie laughed, and a shot of frustrated irritation coursed through her. Who was this wizard Dumbledore had inflicted on her? She's tried to tell the old wizard that she preferred to work alone, but he'd said Charlie would be a good ally in a fight. Ez had her doubts. Charlie was too good-natured, too soft. Too annoying. She doubted he'd even seen a real fight.
The loud pops of wizards Apparating startled her, and she immediately had her wand drawn. Charlie didn't. Some ally.
"Esmerelda," said one of the cloaked figures. Standau, no doubt. "We hear you've moved sides. You break your mother's heart with every breath you take." He spoke Romanian with the mountain accent she remembered so well. He was her cousin, a decade older than her, and none the wiser.
"I've no qualm with you," she told him in Romania. "Go home to your family."
"You are my family."
"I have no family."
"You're weak, Esmerelda. You've always been weak. Your blood is weak."
"I'm weak?" Now she shouted in English. "Attack, then, you pathetic goat and I'll show you how weak I am! I've grown since you've seen me last, Standau. I'm not the little girl you remember, and my blood's just as pure as yours!"
"Muggle-lover," he spat at her.
"Uh…what's going on?" Charlie asked. "Esmerelda?"
"You're pathetic!" she shouted at her cousin. And all the anger and resentment she held for her parents was channeled now at Standau. He represented the worst of her family. In him she saw the disgust on her father's face, in his words she felt the sting of her mother's beatings. He was the future she ran from, but she was done running.
"They couldn't break me, and neither will you! But you can try, Standau. You came for a fight, didn't you? So, show me what you've got! I'm not afraid of you any more!"
They started casting, and Esmerelda managed to step in front of Charlie and conjure a decent Shield Spell while he fumbled to get his wand out. And then they fought. Three to two. It was late, and they'd had a long day, but Ez felt the surge of adrenaline renew her strength and sharpen her senses. Blood pumped, muscles worked, magic flew. She hit one of her cousin's friends with Sever Spell and he Disapparated away. Charlie was hit, but he bounded back up again without missing a beat. She started to rethink her earlier assessment.
"You pretend," Standau shouted as he threw hex after hex at her, "but you are Wizmere! You will always be Wizmere! Weak blood or not, you will come home! I will carry you on my back if I must!"
"Wizmere?" Charlie gasped. "Did he say Wizmere?" He looked at her instead of their combatants, and took a direct blow to the side of his head. His eyes rolled back, and he fell.
Ez didn't understand the rage that bloomed in her, or the pang of panic at seeing Charlie go down, but she pushed it into her magic and threw her cousin and his friend back so hard it shocked even her.
"Come and fight like wizards you pathetic little girls! Cowards! Weak bloods, that what you are! Inbred curs! Get off your asses and put up a fight!" The adrenaline pumping through her left her excited and energized. She could've taken them all single-handed. She could've taken on the whole world at that moment.
"Ezmere – what are you doing?" Charlie was still winded, and he winced as he pushed himself up on to hands and knees. "Shut the bloody hell up, for Merlin's sake! Don't taunt them!"
"You're a disgrace!" she called to her cousin. "Your blood's inferior!" She yelled all the things her father had said to her, all the things her mother whispered under her breath at the dinner table. "You're insignificant; a living ghost! You're less than my shadow! Less than my breath! You disgust –" And then her voice cracked and nothing more came out. Too late she realized Charlie had cast the spell at her and not her cousin. He'd Muffled her.
Of all the moronic things he could've done! How was she supposed to cast a spell now? Her cousin slowly got to his feet and leveled his wand at her, and she couldn't even cast a damn Shield Spell.
"You are bitch!" Standau shouted in English, glaring at her down the length of his wand. "Your mother should drowned you as baby!" He said that because her father had tried. Her ouma had warned him that she had weak blood - meaning that she would be a disgrace to the family name. It was in her cards, in her palm; the stars had aligned at the moment of her birth to warn them all of her weak, traitorous blood. And Ez lived up to her ouma's predictions. She'd disgraced the whole damn lot of them.
"Your father will laugh when I tell him I kill you!" Standau yelled. "Your mother will kiss my face!"
"Eat bogies!" Charlie shouted from his knees. The spell took them all by surprise, and had them down to their knees, cowering and covering their faces from the attacking globs of mucus before Ez even understood what was happening. Their attackers Disapperated almost immediately.
"I must know how to do that!" she would have cried, had she any voice. Now she whirled on Charlie. Rage bubbled inside her. How dare he? How fucking dare he? She'd never said the F word before, but she'd thought it a million times. Fuck, fuck, "Fuck!"
Suddenly her voice was back, and she aimed her wand at Charlie's chest. "Want to Muffle me, do you? Gentisil!" Red magic flew from her wand and Charlie was pelted with tiny burning pebbles.
"What are you doing? Are you mad?"
"Mad? I'm furious! How dare you attack me?"
"You were going to get us killed!" He frantically patted down the parts of his shirt that were smoldering. "What the bloody hell's wrong with you?"
"You're not allergic to bees, are you?"
"Bees?" Charlie asked, startled enough by her question to look back up at her. "No. Why?"
"Corrosip!" she called and two dozen bees flew out the end of her wand.
Charlie cried out more in shock than terror. "Augamenti!" Charlie yelled, and water poured out of his wand, dousing most but not all of the bees. Several managed to get him in the face and hand. "You're a bloody maniac!"
"And you're a –" There was a CRACK, and Ez whirled around to see Standau again, already taking aim. Luckily Charlie was faster, but he only managed to wing her cousin with Diffindo, and Standau's shirt and cloak were ripped from neck to hem - Standau remained unharmed. In that time Ez cast a strong Expelliarmus that sent her cousin back a good twenty feet, and his wand in the other direction. He landed hard, and when he was able to pull together enough air, he Disapparated again.
"He'll be back," Ez said grimly. Standau wasn't terribly bright, but he was obsessive. "Can you walk?"
"Now that I've been burned and stung? No problem." She went to help Charlie to his feet but he pushed her away. Fine, then. If he was going to be a baby, let him hobble.
"This way," she said, without bothering to slow up for him. She led him into the woods, and headed in the general direction of the path she'd known years before. Standau knew the path, too, but he didn't know about the Illusion Charm at the end of it. In no time at all they were looking over a steep cliff that fell away down to a wide gorge. Once Charlie caught up to her, she waved her wand and said the enchantment her Ouma had taught her. "Creshnika."
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked, rubbing a small black burn on the back of his hand.
She took that hand, gripped it firmly, and began to step off the side of the cliff. Charlie immediately grabbed her with his free arm and pulled her tight against himself. He was about her height, maybe an inch or two taller, and his face was suddenly very close to hers. He had coffee on his breath, and his skin was hot through his t-shirt. The adrenaline that still pumped through her veins had her heart hammering in her throat, but that didn't explain why her mouth went suddenly dry, or why his blue eyes were so very blue all of a sudden. Or, had they always been that blue? No one had ever held her so close. She never would've guessed it would feel so good, or so terrifying – but terrifying in a completely different way than Standau. This kind of terrifying stole her breath away.
"What are you doing? It's a long way down," Charlie said, concern concealed by the attempt at humor. Was he always like this? So nice and easy-going? Why weren't his nerves frayed? He'd just been attacked too, and Charlie had come out a lot worse than Ez had.
"It's a charm," she said, brushing at a singed hole at his shoulder. The ash fluttered away, and he winced. The hot pebble had burned his skin, but she pushed away the guilt and looked up into his curious face. "Trust me."
"Trust you?" he asked, incredulous. "You just attacked me." And still, he had his arms tight around her. Beautiful, his mind said, as clear as if he'd spoken the word out loud. Who is this girl?
She would not let his thoughts derail her. Or his arms, thick and tight around her. "No, no, if memory serves, you attacked me first!"
"Not with rocks and bees!"
"They were little bees! Don't be such a baby!"
"Who is that Standau bloke, anyway? And why's he after us?"
"He's after me, not you."
"Don't tell me, you cast your Bee Spell at him?"
"I wish. Listen, it's great standing here hugging and all, but Standau's going to regroup, and we're –"
"Right, then. What do we do?"
"Just hold my hand and jump."
Charlie gave her a hard look. "I don't know why I trust you. My gut tells me you're bad news."
He smiled down at her with such warmth in his eyes that Ez lost all ability to think. His lips were so close she couldn't see them anymore, but she could feel them as they gently brushed over hers. Hardly a kiss really, barely even there, but her stomach fluttered, and a tingle shot up between her legs. Oh, Merlin…
"Yeah, bad news," Charlie agreed with himself. And then his mouth crushed down on hers.
His lips were warm and smooth and soft and demanding, and she did her best to kiss him back. She'd never kissed a guy like this, and she wasn't sure that she liked it. His teeth caught her lip and he bit down. She gasped, and jerked away, but his mouth followed, hard and needy. Awareness prickled the back of her mind as she heard him think, More…more…
She pushed Charlie away. "We have to go."
He nodded with heavy eyelids and swollen lips. His gaze caught on her mouth. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "Bloody hell." Dumbledore, what have you done to me?
"Just take my hand and-"
"Trust you. Yeah." He looked reticently down at the river. "Bloody, bloody hell."
And then she stepped off the cliff, and he followed, and they broke through the enchantment.
The hot springs was just as she remembered it, yellow rocks growing up from the forest floor, and a pool of steaming water big enough for her whole family, and deep enough for her to stand up to her neck – though it had been past her head when she was here last. She turned back to the stone entrance and waved her wand. "Creshnika sort." A shimmer of gold magic assured her they were safe.
She didn't even have a chance to catch her breath before Charlie spun her around and kissed her again. His hands were on her hips, and his mouth was more demanding than before. She didn't know what to do, where to touch him, or even if she wanted to. She'd just met him, she really didn't know him at all, and…good Merlin…it felt good. His lips had found their way to just below her ear, and he sucked a moan out of her. Her nipples tightened, her belly flopped.
"You're so bleeding beautiful." No one had ever said that to her before. Not even her family. Especially not her family. I want…
"Shut up."
He pulled back to look at her, and it felt like his blue eyes poured into her. He made her nervous, her heart raced, but she couldn't look away. "Why do I feel like I've known you forever?"
"You don't know me at all," she said.
"And still…" He studied her face, her brows. He ran a hand through her hair. "Esmerelda. I keep thinking that we've met and I've just forgotten. I keep trying to remember you."
No, it was impossible that their paths might have crossed. Her family never would've allowed it. And she would've remembered his eyes, his smile, the warm gentleness of his thoughts. She pushed into his head easier than she ever had before, like a breeze through silk. She picked through the top layers, and found her own eyes there, in his mind. She hardly recognized them. Her eyes weren't that bright, her cheeks were never that rosy, her lips could never be so…inviting.
That's not what I look like.
Is that you inside my head? Esmerelda?
This is how you see me, isn't it? But it's not what I look like.
You're beautiful.
I'm not.
Get out of my head, Esmerelda.
What are you hiding?
"You can't just push into someone's head," he told her. "It's not right."
None of this felt right, not that she cared at the moment. Her heart was still racing, and her head was spinning. He'd fought with her, fought for her. Her whole body trembled with awareness of him. She had never felt like this after a battle before, and she was starting to like it. And so did he – she could feel it in him.
What are you looking for? he thought. Just ask me and I'll tell you.
"Why are you kissing me?" The question sent a flare of heat up her cheeks.
He smirked. "Why are you kissing me?"
"I…" She didn't know how to answer that. Why had she kissed him? And his hands were now on her ass - why had she let that happen? Did she like it? Did she want him to stop? No, not really…
"Kiss me again," Charlie whispered against her mouth. His lips caressed hers so sweetly she couldn't deny him.
She wanted more. Ez leaned against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard. He groaned, and it sent a thrill right through her. She wanted to hear him make that noise again.
Esmerelda…I think I could…
His hands slipped up her back, and around to her waist. He squeezed her tight.
Esmerelda…I think I do…
He bit her bottom lip, and when she gasped he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She gagged, pushed away from him.
"Are you…Esmerelda, are you all right?"
"People call me Ez." And she most certainly wasn't all right. Why had he done that?
"You've not snogged many blokes before, have you?" Charlie asked. It was a blunt question, but there was kindness in his voice. And amusement. And…interest.
"Is that what this is? Snogging?"
"You don't snog in Canada?"
"We make out. And yes, I've made out with plenty of guys," she lied. "Thank you very much."
He held her chin with a finger and a thumb, and he slowly, gently lifted her head up towards his. "Plenty of guys?" He used her flat accent. It sounded good coming out of his mouth. "Good then. I hope I measure up."
His mouth descended again, and he flickered his tongue lightly across her bottom lip. Did she want his tongue in her mouth? She thought that she did. Her belly fluttered again, her head went foggy around the edges.
Breathe, she told herself. Then his tongue slipped between her lips, between her teeth, and caressed hers. It was a gentle motion, like a flicker. Playful. It tickled, and she slipped the tip of her tongue under his. He moaned in pleasure, and she felt it through his belly pressed against hers. Every hair on her body stood on end, and every inch of her breasts that were pressed up against his chest tightened.
She smoothed her hands up his solid chest and shoulders, to the hot skin on his neck, and around the back of his head. She pulled him closer, searched for a better taste of him while she reveled in the way her body trembled and tingled. Feeling bold, she thrust into his mouth, not playfully, but with intention, and was rewarded with another gravely groan. Tight thrills whirled in the bottom of her belly. How could she make him groan again?
So beautiful…
I'm not.
"Get out of my head," he whispered against her lips. His mouth was hot and wet, and his tongue played over hers as his fingers found her breast. She gasped and felt him smile against her mouth. A shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
She pressed into his head again. He was thinking about how she shot at her cousin, and how she ducked down and then rolled away to narrowly miss a returned spell. He was thinking about the way she looked at him when she cast Gentisil; angry and fierce. She felt the surge admiration course through him, and something else, something like want. Like desire. His hands flew back down to her ass. He grabbed her roughly and ground his hips against hers. There was a hardness between them there, and she knew what it was. It shocked her out of her own arousal.
Get out of my head, he thought again. She pulled out, and tried to pull away, but he didn't let go.
"Stop thinking," he said, and moved his mouth to her neck. "Feel this." He suckled over the pulse point on her neck, and a wet warmth pooled between her legs. Her head fogged once more, and she found herself kissing him back; his ear, his cheek, his jaw, his hair – anything she could reach. When she groaned in pleasure, he physically picked her up, and awkwardly carried her the last few feet to an alder tree. He pushed her against it and used his hips to pin her there. Rough bark pressed into her shoulders and ass. Pain mixed with pleasure.
"What are you doing?" she asked, though her voice was little more than a whimper. His hard belly and thick thighs felt so good pressed against her. His hands rubbed and squeezed.
I want, he broadcast. I need.
"Kiss me again," she said, and he smiled as he obliged.
Before she could register what had happened, Charlie whipped her shirt up and over her head; it got tangled in her elbows.
"What are you doing?" she asked again, this time the hoarseness in his voice was from shock. Surprise turned to panic, and everything snapped back with crystal clarity.
His eyes were full of her chest, and she crossed her arms protectively over herself. Flowers. He ran a finger along the top of her bra. "Perfect."
And suddenly it wasn't fun anymore. This really scared her. Who was this person kissing her breast, pushing the cup down, running a finger over her bare nipple? It was so tight that its ache answered at the point between her legs where the hardest part of his body pressed against her. They were going too far. She knew what was supposed to come next. She had to stop him.
"Don't do that," she said, thought there was no voice behind the words. "Oh, Merlin…I don't like that." She liked it too much. She didn't know it could feel this way. When Standau had groped her it had made her retch.
He looked up into her eyes, alarmed. "Really? I wasn't doing it right?" He looked back down at her chest, and suddenly she wanted his mouth on her again. Ez didn't know why, but it was incredibly sexy to have Charlie's eyes on her like that, to see the earnest confusion as he tried to work out just what he'd done wrong. Why was that endearing when it was so maddeningly frustrating? So completely terrifying? But her fear melted away, and modesty battled with this new giddy want and old adrenaline still fizzing through her veins. Suddenly it didn't bother her to stand there with her breast hanging out. She wondered what he'd do next.
He met her eyes. She hadn't expected that. Then, he dragged the other cup down, too, and her breasts hung propped up on the under wire. Her nipples stared him in the eye.
"I could try again," Charlie said, as if he'd been presented with a challenge. "They're so lovely, it would be a shame to waste them." He cupped her gently, and watched her face as he ran both thumbs over her nipples. She tried to stand firm, but the sensation was so intense she had to close her eyes.
"I think you do like it." I want to make her come. I want…
She shook her head no.
He leaned back from the waist up, and threw his shirt up and over his head. He was beyond pale, covered in freckles. Was there no sun in England anymore? His chest was square and solid on his youthfully lean body. Heat flushed through her. He had soft chest hair.
"Well, I like it," he encouraged. He looked down at himself, at his reddish-copper, oval nipples. They were small and flat and enticing.
She was hesitant to touch him. He stood there and waited for her, smiling in his easy way, and she wondered what she was afraid of. Of Charlie? Of what she was feeling? Of coming back to Romania now that she'd been disowned by her parents, and no longer had their protection? Her family was merciless, and she knew that Standau would kill her if given the chance. Or worse.
But she wasn't afraid of Charlie. Not anymore. She refused to be afraid. She ran a hand from his shoulder down over his firm chest. His nipple hardened under his fingertip, and he sucked in a breath as she ran her thumb over it. She did it again. And then again.
Esmerelda…I think I do…
She ran her hand lower, wondering how far he'd let her go. Down past his ribs? Down over his stomach? Around his navel with a patch of hair that trailed straight down and darkened? She ran two fingers along the waist of his jeans. There was a small gap between his belly and the denim, and she dipped a finger in only to find more fur.
Esmerelda…I think I love…
Her hand whipped to her mouth. No, no, no!
He unbuttoned the waist of his jeans, and then he did hers. When he stepped away from her, and the pressure from his pelvis was gone, she felt the loss more profoundly than she ever could've imagined. Even though he was still at arm's length she suddenly felt alone again. The night was that much colder. It was easier to think. No, no, she didn't want to think, and she didn't want to be alone. What was wrong with her?
When Charlie unzipped his fly and shoved his jeans and underwear to the ground, her heart jumped. Fear bloomed anew. Her chest tightened, she couldn't breathe. The way he looked at her wasn't sexy anymore, it was vulgar. The humor in his face was replaced with a dark lust. He stood there unabashedly erect and bobbing. Panic swelled. She'd never seen a naked man before. She couldn't look away. When he stepped to her, she felt him press into her groin.
"You're shaking," he whispered, and placed light kisses over her cheeks and chin. "Are you afraid?"
"Of course not."
"Nothing scares you?" Again, a touch of humor in his whisper.
"You don't scare me."
"Mmm," he said, placing a series of kisses on her lips. "You scare the hell out of me, Esmerelda Wizmere." He sighed, pressed his forehead to hers. "Esmerelda. Esmerelda. Even your name feels familiar to me."
And just like that, the lewd, lustful wizard was gone and Charlie was back with a shyer smile than she'd ever seen him wear. He touched her arms, ran his hands up and down them. His hands were large and warm and captivating.
When he kissed her again, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around his bare neck. He touched her breasts, and it felt good, he touched her stomach, and the muscles there spasmed. He slipped a single finger down her belly, and hooked it into the front of her panties.
"Oh, Merlin…"
His hand brushed, and she gasped, and her hips bucked forward wanting more. Suddenly, her legs seemed far too weak to hold her up. Her panties went down. Her body began to ache from the inside. She couldn't stop shaking.
"I don't want to do this," she whispered. She was ashamed of the fear. Her ouma was right, she had weak blood.
He lifted her face up, and she opened her eyes to his gaze. "You were amazing out there. I've never seen anyone so brave."
"Right. Is that why you Muffled me?" Confidence sparked within her again, and for the moment she glared at him she forgot she was terrified.
"Open your legs, Esmerelda. Let me in. I want you so badly."
He cupped her ass, squeezed, and she dropped her head on to his shoulder and groaned. Her body was betraying her. Her legs opened for him. Her lips kissed his neck, and then her tongue. "No, Charlie, don't."
"I don't…I haven't had a lot of girls. Just the one, really. I'll try to make it good for you."
He lifted her just high enough to work himself between her legs, and then he pressed her hard against the tree again. Her back burned as skin scraped over bark. She swallowed a cry, and felt him press hard against that pooling heat at her center. She couldn't get purchase, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs for balance.
"If it isn't good, I'll make it up to you," he said. "I promise."
She could feel the head of his erection already pressing into that ache inside her. It burned, too. She didn't want to do this. Not with him. She didn't know him. "It hurts."
He shook with the effort to hold her up, and his thighs were impossibly hard beneath her legs. Sweat broke out on his back and face. "You're clenching. Relax."
And then he let her sink down, and her back grated against the tree. She felt him push inside her, and still more burning pain ignited. Her thighs tightened to stop the progress, but he thrust in deeper and deeper until she was sure she couldn't take any more of him. Was he even in the right place down there? How could this be right? She couldn't breathe. He pushed her harder against the tree.
"Relax," he urged through gritted teeth. "Fuck, Ez, relax!"
"It hurts. Please, stop."
"I'm almost there," he assured.
He came inside her with his face pressed between her breasts, and then his thighs gave out. They crashed to the ground, and while he made sure she landed on top of him, they crashed down hard, and it hurt some more. Everything hurt. There was even an ache in her chest, a tightness she didn't understand. Her eyes prickled, her vision blurred. When had she last cried? Ez never cried.
"You all right?" Charlie asked. How could he ask that? She'd just spent the last two minutes telling him she was in pain. "That was brilliant."
Her own stunned heartbreak kept her silent. Her belly cramped. She curled away from him and wept.
And then, an invisible hand pushed Harry back, and he was in his own body again, sitting on the floor, legs splayed, staring at Esmerelda. She conjured a kerchief and handed it to him. He wiped at the hot tears on his cheeks. He'd felt her lust and pain, her fear, and anger at Charlie, and all he was left with now was a growing resentment towards her. He didn't want to know any of that.
"Why?" he gasped. "Why would you show me that?"
"So you'll understand better what 'stop' means. It's a little different from the other side, isn't it?"
Harry shook his head, stared at his feet. He thought maybe he might be sick. "I've just been fucked by Charlie Weasley."
Esmerelda laughed. "I remember the sentiment. But no, believe me, it was me and not you."
It was real enough. "Are you saying that what you felt, Ginny felt the same last night? That she was…scared? Of me?"
"Harry, when you finished, were you inside her head?"
"I…I didn't finish," he told her. "But, you must know that."
"You swore you wouldn't Read her," she adamantly reminded.
"And, I haven't! Merlin, I should've stopped when she asked me to. I never should've started it in the first place. Why did I even kiss her? She has a boyfriend."
"You were worked up. Watching can do that. And…we should talk about that, too, eh?"
Oh, no. Harry closed his eyes and dropped his face into his hands. "I don't want to see that memory!"
"Don't worry. It's not one I'm willing to share."
So, there was a memory? Yeah, he didn't want to know that, either.
"Harry, why did you watch Hermione while Ron was making love to her?"
He hid his face again. "I don't know," he moaned. "I'm a perv." Harry wanted to melt into the floor. It was horrible to have someone know these things about him.
"The thing is, Hermione will never love you the way she loves Ron."
"I don't fancy Hermione," Harry said flatly. None of this was any of her business.
"She's just now starting to explore her sexuality, and she hasn't yet had a chance to form her boundaries. Not that you have any boundaries, either, but Hermione…well, I have to say it's different for a girl."
"We're just friends."
"Hardly," Esmerelda said. "You two have grown up together, learned together, fought together, bled together. There's too much history there for 'just friends,' Harry. Especially for her."
"No way. She doesn't fancy me." Ez was out of her bleeding mind.
"No, she loves Ron, and with a maturity many witches never achieve. But she feels strongly for you as well, and little stunts like you watching will only confuse her as she's trying to work through the complex emotions she's got tangled up inside. I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but Hermione isn't exactly a simple witch. And now is not the time to throw another regent in her cauldron."
"I won't."
"I'm serious, Harry. Her friendship with you is a lot like Charlie's with Tonks."
"But…" Charlie had slept with Tonks.
"I know," Ez said, not even having to Read his mind. "So, you'll trust me when I say I've seen this before. Stay away from Hermione and Ron when they're together, Harry."
"Is that why you and Charlie broke it off?"
"That's none of your business."
"Oh, but being inside your memory of losing your virginity is? Are you even supposed to be telling me this stuff? I mean, that was Charlie's privacy invaded, too. Isn't there a code of silence or something in Legilimency?"
"No."
"So you're good with telling everybody's secrets?"
"Harry, you can't watch Hermione and Ron anymore."
"I know!" Heat bloomed in his face. "I've said I won't! I'm not a perv."
"Oh, come on. Don't turn prude on me. It's not perverted, Harry, but it is a bad idea. She loves Ron."
"And I love Ginny."
"Yes, well…what are you going to do about Ginny?"
"What are you on about? What is there to do?" He'd take back last night if it were possible. "What did Charlie do? You two were together for a while, weren't you? How did you get past that first time?"
"Well, it was a long night," Esmerelda said lightly, though Harry knew the memory must be anything but. After what he'd just witnessed he doubted anything had ever been light between them.
"We did a lot of talking, a lot of fighting. There was more sex that was less painful. But I think…I think it was that he was able to make me laugh. Our relationship was always volatile, but there was a lot of laughter, too. At that point I hadn't known a lot of laughter in my life, and Charlie – he had an interesting way of looking at the world." Her sad smile was almost wistful, and Harry wondered what it had taken to finally break them up.
"Yeah, it was a difficult ending. I hope I never have to share that with you," she said earnestly.
"Am I still Broadcasting?" Harry asked.
"You have an expressive face."
The door to the classroom slammed open and Hermione stood framed inside it. Her wand was clutched in her hand, and fury was etched across her face. Harry had seen her like this before, but he'd never been on the receiving end. He didn't know what to do, but he was afraid to move. She looked like a cat ready to pounce.
"Apologize," she said, her voice low and pointed like a lance prepared to strike.
"I'm sorry," he immediately said.
"Not to me! To Ginny!"
"You've seen her? How is she?" He jumped up from the floor. "Where is she? Doe she hate me? Did she tell you what happened? Is she all right?"
"Harry, how could you?" Hermione stepped into the room, and her fury shifted to incredulity. "I never would've thought it possible of you. Harry, you love her!"
Oh, no, it was that bad. "Where is she?"
"Showering. I was able to Heal the cuts on her back, but the bruises-"
"Bruises?" He'd bruised her. "Shit." He turned from Hermione to catch his breath.
"Harry," Hermione said, quieter now. She stepped toward him, concern on her face. "Why didn't you stop when she asked? I feel like it's all my fault."
"Your fault?" Harry asked. When Hermione threw a nervous glance at Esmerelda, he guessed what she was referring to. Panic shot through him. She wasn't going to talk about that, was she? Esmerelda pressed the heel of her hand to her temple.
"It's just, well," Hermione began, looking at her feet, her cheeks flushing pink. "Ron attacked Ginny in the DA because of me – he's something of a maniac, that one. And then…er…you-"
"It's not your fault," Harry said to stifle anything else she was about to say. "It's all my fault-"
Esmerelda moaned.
"Damn right, it is!" Charlie barked as he swept into the room, still furious and puffed up like a peacock. He looked terrible, all angry and wounded. At least he wasn't actively bleeding anymore. "I'll deal with you in a minute," he said to Harry with a finality that made him dread what was to come. "Hermione, did you find her?"
"She's all right," Hermione told him.
"Thank Merlin."
Esmerelda fell out of her chair. Harry reached to help her up, but Charlie shoved him out of the way.
"Nu ma atinge," she cried, and held up a hand to stop Charlie from touching her. "You go, Charlie. Take Harry with you. I need to talk to Hermione for a minute."
"What? No!" Harry cried. "Are you mad?"
Charlie completely ignored him. "Mere, you're clearly hurting. Let me help. I can get you to the infirmary-"
"Charlie, if you touch me, I'll hex you into tomorrow."
He froze. "It's that bad, is it?"
"Remember Prague?"
Charlie winced, took a couple steps back from her. "OK." He slid his hands into the seat pockets of his jeans. "I'll…I'll find you later tonight."
"Please don't."
Charlie's face went grim, and when he turned to Harry, he looked as though he might breathe fire. "All right, let's go."
Harry hesitated. Not only did he not want to leave with Charlie, he also didn't want to leave Hermione alone with Esmerelda. "Erm…"
"She'll be fine, Harry," Esmerelda assured.
"She doesn't know that how easily you can Read her," Harry objected.
"I'll explain it," Esmerelda said. "Go with Charlie. And Charlie – play nice. I mean it."
"Oh, we're just going to have a chat, Harry and me," Charlie said flatly. He clapped Harry on the shoulder a little too hard to be friendly and shoved him out the door.
"I mean it, Charlie!" Esmerelda called after them. "Let Ginny handle him!"
Out in the corridor, Charlie snorted his disgust. "She thinks all witches are like her. Bullocks! What would Ginny do to you?"
"You mean besides Bat-Bogey Hex me?"
Charlie considered him. "She is rather proficient in the hexes, it is true. But she'd never do you. She's loves you." He said it like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Well, she has," Harry told him, "and I'd rather stay off the receiving end of that."
"Ginny's hexed you?" Charlie asked, surprised. Then his brows lowered and he shook his head. "Don't become us, Harry. Me and Mere. It can only end badly. Be like Mum and Dad, or like Tonks and Remus. Hell, even Ron and Hermione would be better than me and Mere."
He stopped Harry with a hand to his arm. "What did you do to her?" Charlie wasn't looking at Harry when he asked.
"I…we…we shagged," Harry admitted, resentfully. No one should have to share these things.
"I know that," Charlie said. "What did you do? Are you taking the Potion?"
Harry jerked his arm away, his face flamed hot. It was none of this was Charlie's business. It was humiliating enough that Esmerelda stole it out of his head. Actually saying the words was torture. "I didn't do what you did your first time with Ez. I stopped."
Charlie stepped back as if burned, and Harry felt a surge of gratification. And then he remembered what it felt like to have Charlie's cock inside him, and he had to look away. He did not want to know these things.
"She told you about that?" Charlie asked. "I don't know why I'm surprised. That witch has no boundaries."
"Yeah, well, she's not the only one, is she?"
Charlie narrowed his eyes, and his guilt shifted to something harder. "Watch yourself, you little bugger. This isn't about me-"
"I think it is. I saw the look on your face when Ez said I didn't do anything to Ginny that you hadn't already done to her. You messed it up with Ez, and you're standing there waiting for me to do the same with Ginny."
"I'm not waiting," Charlie said, his voice rising. "You're doing it! You're making all the same mistakes I've made – the only difference is Ginny's a doll, and Mere's a…" He took a deep breath. "Do you love her, Harry? I mean really love her? You're seventeen. That's quite young for love."
"What are you saying?"
"Walk away. If you can, Harry, leave her alone. Ginny's a great girl."
"The best," Harry agreed.
"If you can walk away, now is the time. It'll never be easier to leave than at this moment."
"Leave?"
Charlie nodded, but he didn't look at Harry. "I can set something up through the Order. You know, lessons at Headquarter, or something. We are devoted to helping you, Harry."
"Because I'm Harry Potter."
"Because you're Harry Potter," Charlie agreed. "But even if you weren't, I'd do anything that I could to help you not make the same mistakes I've made. And, to help Ginny. Think about it."
Harry did think about it. He thought and thought until his head ached and his stomach churned. He couldn't concentrate on his homework or the essay that was due in the morning. He couldn't sleep. He played the previous night over and over in his head, trying to think how he could've done it differently, how he might've salvaged his first time with Ginny – or avoided it all together. If he hadn't gone up the stairs, or if he hadn't left his bed at all; there were an infinite possible combinations, so why had things played out just as they had?
Esmerelda's memory kept creeping in, too, and he began to worry that Ginny's experience was even worse than he initially thought. Had she been afraid of him? He'd made her cry, and like Ez, Ginny never cried. Of course, that was the second time he'd made her cry since they'd come to Hogwarts that year. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?
Unable to lie still any longer, Harry kicked off his blankets and trudged down to the common room hoping to find Ginny, though not surprised when he didn't. He stared up the girls' stairs wondering if he wanted to risk setting off the alarms. It had to be nearly two in the morning. Maybe Hermione would fetch Ginny for him. Ginny wouldn't be sleeping, not all alone in her dorm. Hermione would be sleeping, though, and he had to wonder if it would be worth it to wake her.
He decided it was. But as he climbed the steps up to the Head Girl's room, Harry began to wonder if Hermione would be sleeping after all. He hadn't thought to look in Ron's bed to see if his mate was tucked in. Harry stopped on the landing and considered the closed door. He certainly didn't want a repeat of last night. He wasn't sure he could explain another encounter to Esmerelda – and she most certainly would find out, the bloody witch.
Knocking, he decided, was the safest bet. He'd knock, and if no one answered it would probably mean Hermione didn't want to be disturbed. Or, that she wasn't in there. Or, that she was bound and gagged by a roving band of Death Eaters who had already outsmarted the Aurors patrolling the Castle corridors. Harry was really too tired to apply logic.
It took a couple of minutes, but Hermione did answer the knock – and she was wearing a gown and night robe. Thank Merlin. She squinted at him.
"Harry? What is it? Is Ron all right?"
If she had to ask, it meant Ron wasn't with her. Another relief.
"I need to speak to Ginny. Would you mind going to fetch her? We can talk down in the common room."
She blinked at him. "Harry, it's the middle of the night."
"I know. Look, I haven't seen her since…last night, and I just…I need to talk to her. Even if it's just her yelling. Even if she hexes me again."
"Ginny's sleeping, Harry."
"No, I'm not." Ginny's voice drifted out from the darkness in the room.
Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and then cast Luminos. Several candles lit. When she opened the door wider, Harry saw that there were two beds in the room now, as well as a second wardrobe and trunk.
"Oh, brilliant!" Now Ginny wouldn't have to worry about being in the dorms at all. "I don't know why I didn't think of this."
"Yes," said Hermione as she crawled back into her bed. "It would've made loads more sense than sneaking a girl into your bed every night."
Ginny gave him an apologetic shrug from her tester bed. "I was upset, and it sort of slipped out."
"Can we talk?" Harry asked. "In the common room? I swear to be a perfect gentleman."
Ginny looked over at Hermione, who had already rolled with her back to them. She would be no help.
"Please?" Harry said.
The common room was, of course, empty. The fire had been aloud to burn out, so Harry lit it again. They settled on the couch, him at one end, and her at the other. Now that he had her there, he wasn't sure how to start. He decided to follow Hermione's advice.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what, exactly?" Ginny asked, staring at the flames. She was all gold and copper in the low, warm light, and Harry realized she had circles under her eyes. He should've let her sleep.
"I'm…I'm sorry for hurting you. For not stopping when you asked. For kissing you in the first place when you have a boyfriend. For asking you to dump Ernie. I know he's a better bloke than me." She didn't argue. "Ginny, I'm sorry I'm not the wizard you need me to be."
"Yeah," she said, a blanket non-committal. He'd thought maybe she'd insist that he was, or that he could be, and he was prepared for those arguments. He hadn't considered that she'd agree with him.
"Do you hate me, Ginny?" She'd said that she had, and he couldn't really blame her if she did. But he desperately wanted her to say no. He wanted her to say she loved him, so he could say it back. He was prepared for that now, too.
"I reckon I do," she said quietly.
He shivered. Well, then. Maybe it would be best to take Charlie up on his offer - not for him, but for her. He'd done enough to her all ready, maybe it was time to let her be.
Harry nodded a little to let her know he'd heard her. It took a couple of moments for him to find his voice around the emotion that clogged his throat. "Well…you'll be safe enough here, with Charlie and Ez, and the Aurors."
"What does that mean?"
"Just that, well, when I came to Hogwarts this year I was under the delusion that you needed me, that I could somehow protect you. But you don't need my protection, Ginny. You don't need anything that I can offer. You don't need me at all. I've only messed things up for you."
She sniffled, and he realized there were tears in her eyes as she stared down at her knees. "You're leaving again, aren't you?"
Her broken voice tugged at his heart. "Ginny, I think – I think it would be easier for you if I wasn't here. You know, running into you in on staircases in the middle of the night and ravishing you..." He shouldn't have made a joke out of it; he knew it as soon as it was out of his mouth.
"I was hardly ravished."
Hardly? "After last night, I thought you'd want me to go."
She pegged him with a hard look. "How long have you known me, Harry? Seven years? When have I ever – ever – wanted you to go?"
"But I make things hard on you. I hurt you. I always do or say the wrong thing. I'm rubbish."
"I do wish you'd stop that, yes," she said lightly. "And your constant self-loathing is rather wearisome. And if you could be a little less petulant and self-obsessed, that would be nice, too."
Harry smirked and that almost got a smile out of her. She played with the hem of her t-shirt. Harry's smirk faded when he realized he was looking at a round, fist-sized bruise just above her navel. His own belly quivered.
"What happened?"
"What?" she looked at him and dropped her shirt back into place. He lifted the hem again just enough to see the bruise. She shivered.
"I didn't…did I do that?"
"No. That was my lovely prat of a brother over reacting in the DA. If Hermione so much as sneezes he's all over everyone else for making her sick." She looked down at her belly. "It's not so bad, really. He's given me loads worse."
"What?"
"Well, not intentionally. I mean, he is my brother, and we did play rough when we were younger. He broke my collarbone once. But then, I broke a couple of his ribs, so it's not like I'm some weak little girl who can't take care of herself. I'm not, you know? I'm not weak."
"No," Harry said, "I'd never call you that." He ran a finger along the bottom of the bruise. "It looks like it hurts."
Her stomach muscles clenched, and he realized just how close he had leaned to her. It would take nothing at all to kiss her there. He licked his lips, and forced himself to sit up. Unfortunately, his pajamas did little in the way of camouflaging his new awareness of her. It was too much to hope she wouldn't notice, really. Her gaze lingered over his crotch, leaving him even tighter. He crossed his legs, and leaned an elbow on his knee.
"I'm going to sleep with Ernie." Her statement came out so casually Harry wondered if he'd heard her correctly. "After the Autumnal Equinox Dance. I thought you should know, in case you were thinking about 'ravishing' me again."
"You're…what? Why?"
"I don't really feel I owe you an explanation."
"But…" What the hell? "You don't love him. Why would you let him shag you?"
"I'm assuming that we'll be shagging each other," she said dryly.
"Is he pressuring you? Because if he is-"
"He doesn't even know yet. I mean, yeah, he's tried a couple of times – not for sex, I don't think, but for some heavy snogging. And I've been…hesitant. But after last night, there doesn't seem much point, does there? If I'm willing to have sex with you, I should probably let my boyfriend have a go."
"What? Are you mad?" Harry couldn't believe his ears. "But you don't love him!"
She gave him a tired look. "I'm beginning to think love is over-rated. I'd rather have a little nice – and Ernie's definitely nice."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I don't know." Her brows lowered. "I reckon I shouldn't have said anything."
Harry jumped up from the couch, began to pace. Maybe she was lying. Maybe she didn't have any intention to shag Ernie Macmillian. Bloody Head Boy. Maybe she was just trying to push Harry away for good, or trying to make him jealous. She was staring at the fire again, looking tired and petulant. Maybe she was telling the truth – he'd never known her to lie.
"Don't do it," he said. "Please. I'm sorry about everything. It was all my fault, so if this is about getting back at me somehow, just hex me. Punish me. Don't do this to yourself because I'm a selfish prick-"
"Believe it or not, Harry, I do, on occasion, make decisions that don't concern you."
"But you told me about it. You want me to stop it from happening. You want me to talk you out of it." When she didn't immediately disagree he pounced. "I love you. Me. He doesn't love you. How can he possibly? He doesn't even know you. I can't believe you'd do that."
"Why not?" she asked without looking at him. "You believed it before."
So, she was punishing him. He couldn't say he didn't deserve it. "Just…just think about it. You haven't told Ernie, right? So it's not like there will be any pressure there. Talk to Hermione. Girls talk about those kinds of things, don't they?"
"I don't want to talk to Hermione, and I don't want to talk to you anymore, either. I should never have said anything." She headed back toward the stairs, but Harry stopped her with a hand to her arm.
"Please, Ginny," he whispered.
"Enough." She yanked her arm from his grasp. "If you're going to leave, then leave, and if you're not, then stop torturing me with it."
"I won't leave," Harry said. "Is that what you want to hear?"
"Harry, you have no bleeding idea what I want to hear, so just…let me go."
It took three knocks before Charlie answered the next morning. He opened the door, still half-asleep, with the right side of his ginger hair plastered straight up. When he saw that it was Harry, he lowered his wand and seemed to blink fully awake.
"You look like shit, Harry. What's wrong?"
"I didn't sleep. I've been up most of the night."
"Want to come in, then?"
It was clear Charlie had just rolled out of bed. There wasn't even any water on for tea yet. Charlie pointed at the chair by the dark fireplace, and once Harry had taken a seat, he lit the hearth. Charlie busied himself with filling the kettle. With his back to Harry, Harry decided it would be a good time to say what he'd come to say.
"I wanted to thank you for your offer to school me at Headquarters."
Charlie paused for a moment, and then put the kettle on to boil. He methodically pulled two cups from the cupboard, and a small bowl of sugar. When he turned and leaned against the counter, he gave Harry a hard look and nodded.
"Right, then," he said with a sigh. "I'll set things up through Moody. We can move you to Headquarters this morning."
"Actually, no," Harry said. "Thank you for your offer, but I can't accept."
Charlie's blue eyes narrowed on him. "You're sure? You've thought about this, then?"
All night long. And if he left now, he wouldn't ever be able to come back. He would be saying good-bye to Ginny forever. "I just…I love her. I can't leave it like this."
For a long moment Charlie studied him. He was going to try to talk Harry out of staying. Harry had thought that he might, though he didn't have much in the way of defense.
"Look," Harry continued. "She loves me, too. I know it. I'm not willing to give up on her. Not ever."
"So, then, you're going to win her back?"
"I reckon I will," Harry said.
Charlie rubbed his shoulder thoughtfully. "You have a plan?"
"Er…not as such, no."
"It's not going to be easy," Charlie warned.
"It doesn't really matter, does it? Not when you love them." He couldn't let her sleep with Ernie. She was just angry at Harry, and if she did it, she would only hate Harry more – or hate herself, and he had to do everything he could to keep that from happening.
"Nothing much matters when you love them," Charlie agreed. "It should. But it doesn't. Why is that, you reckon?"
Harry hadn't the foggiest. Charlie was generally a fun, happy bloke, a smart wizard, and very level-headed. It was certainly why he was chosen to be the new Secret Keeper for the Order. He was reliable. He was shrewd. But Harry had seen him completely come apart over Esmerelda. He'd seen him afraid of her, furious at her, and wanting her so badly it took Harry's breath away. This one witch reduced Charlie to a bizarre, stumbling sort of insanity Harry wasn't sure Charlie wanted to be free from.
"You're trying to win Ez, then?"
The teapot on the stove began to whistle then, and Charlie ignored the question feigning interest in tea leaves and spoonfuls of sugar. When he finally handed Harry his cup, he said stiffly, "That witch can't be won. But, Ginny's different."
"She's got a bloke," Harry said.
"That does pose a problem," Charlie agreed. "But it's not insurmountable."
"She said he's the best boyfriend she's ever had."
Charlie's thick ginger brows lowered. "She said that to you?"
While they were having sex. "Yeah."
"Hmph." Charlie sipped his tea. "You were friends first, yes?"
"Yeah. She was in the DA with us, and we were on the Quidditch team together."
"Good, then. Build on the friendship. Friendship is important. It cements the rest of the relationship." Charlie stared in his tea for a moment, and Harry decided to leave him to his contemplations. Harry had enough to think about on his own.
"I've got class," Harry said, and he excused himself. Charlie gave him a distracted wave as Harry hurried out the door.
Ginny would be at breakfast, wouldn't she? And even if not, Hermione and Ron would most certainly be there, and Hermione would know where Ginny was, now that they were roommates. Maybe she'd even agree to help Harry win Ginny back. He could certainly use a little cleverness.
Ginny was at breakfast, and sitting with Ron and Hermione when Harry hurried in. She greeted him with a stiff smile, but a smile nonetheless. Harry took the seat next to her.
"I see you're still here," she said mildly around a mouthful of potato.
"As I said I would be," Harry said. He spooned scrambled eggs on to his plate.
"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll have a noble change of mind soon enough."
Harry bowed his head. "I deserved that. Look, could we talk? Go for a walk or something before class?"
A sharp kick to the shin ended that, and Harry glared at Ron, who was glaring back at him. What? he mouthed.
No, Ron mouthed right back.
Harry was nervous about Ron. He'd been quite vocal about Harry not dating anyone, let alone his sister – not that Harry really blamed him. Harry had been a bad boyfriend. Embarrassingly bad. Inexcusably bad. And now, if Harry didn't play it just right, he might not only lose Ginny, but his best mate as well.
Maybe that was where he should start, with Ron.
"Are you still pouting?" Hermione asked Ron, who sat across from her. He was pushing his food around, and scowling.
"You could've asked me. That's all I'm saying."
Ginny gave Harry a conspiratorial sigh. His heart soared.
"It's not really any of your business, Ron," Hermione said levelly.
His eyes flashed at her, saying he thought it bloody well was his business, but he knew better than to say it aloud. "How long is she going to be rooming with you, then?"
"For the rest of the year, I would think." Hermione looked happily over at Ginny. "Wouldn't you say?"
"Mmm, yes, please," Ginny said, ignoring her brother's groan.
"But Ginny," Ron whined, "You've already got that whole dormitory to yourself! Isn't that enough? Do you really have to push into Hermione's room as well?"
"I reckon I do," Ginny said lightly. She was enjoying torturing Ron. And so was Hermione, from the cat-like smirk on her face.
"It's settled, Ron, so just get used to it," Hermione told him.
"Well, that's bloody great," Ron snipped, and he let his fork clatter to his plate.
"Ron, don't swear."
"I won't if you will," he muttered, grumpily.
The girls exchanged knowing smiles. Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Ron. It had to be a crushing blow to learn that your Head Girl girlfriend wouldn't be entertaining in her easily-accessible-to-boys room any longer. But then Ginny turned her smile on Harry again, and Ron's woes were all but forgotten.
"So?" Ginny breathed. "A walk?"
Ron choked, and Hermione quickly asked, "Have you finished with your Defense homework, Harry? Shall I take a look at your essay tonight after DA?"
"Yeah, all right," Harry said to both of them, but his gaze was full of Ginny.
Ron kicked Harry again.
"Bloody hell!" Harry barked. "What was that for?"
"You know what!" Ron insisted.
"Really, I'm supposed to meet Ernie," Ginny said. "But…maybe we could get a bit of practice in before DA tonight. After supper?"
"I…I still have detention," Harry reluctantly said. Bloody, stupid Ez with her bloody, stupid detention.
"Oh," Ginny said. She stared down at her plate. "All right, then."
"But…but maybe I could get out of it. I mean, the DA is important, too, and it's not like I would be loafing or anything. And we need to practice. I haven't gotten any practice in at all –"
"Neither have I," Ginny quickly added.
"See?"
"What are you doing?" Ron asked. He looked suspiciously from Harry to Ginny, and then back to Harry again. "She's got a bloke!"
"Er…Ron…if they're going to be practicing, then maybe we could practice, too," Hermione brightly suggest.
"Harry, I need to speak to you. Outside," Ron said, teeth clenched.
"Did you hear me?" Hermione asked, a little panic showing in her eyes. "I said we could practice. We'll have my room all to ourselves."
As he registered her implication, Ron's gaze shifted to her. "We'll be alone?"
"All alone. Between supper and the DA. In my room."
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah."
Ron's eyes flickered to Harry, but they didn't stay on him for long. "Well, then," Ron said. "I reckon that's a brilliant idea." A smile spread across his face as he contemplated their practice. And suddenly he must've found his eggs delicious, because he shoveled them in ravenously.
Charlie talked to Ez for Harry, and he helped him secure a room for practice with Ginny that night, and they did just that. They practiced hexing and jinxing each other until they were both sweating and breathless. They practiced the next night, and the night after that, as well. Days passed, and Charlie watched Harry and Ginny duel in the DA with a look of quiet consternation.
"I don't like this," he said every night as he helped Harry heal his wounds. "It feels far too familiar."
Harry never said anything in response. He didn't care what Charlie said. Being Ginny's DA partner meant they were spending real time together, with no boyfriend in sight. There was a comfortable familiarity growing between them that left him hopeful. He looked forward to the DA, meals, and homework in the common room; to the lingering looks and accidental hand touches. But that's all it was between them, subtle flirting and companionable fighting. At night his dreams were beyond erotic.
Esmerelda's attempt to tire out the student population in lieu of Quidditch was a raging success, and so the four of them did homework together late at night, while their bodies ached and their brains felt like goo. The seventh year N.E.W.T essays were endless. Even if Harry devoted every last waking hour to his reading list, he never would've been able to plow through it, but Harry didn't mind. The work was all worth it to be able to sit beside Ginny and help her with her classes - not that she needed any help. Harry was continually astounded by her level of complete understanding. In most subjects she was so far beyond him it was laughable. He loved reading her three rolls of parchment on the many uses of dragons' blood as an element rather than an ingredient in potions. Even her mind was sexy.
Thursday came too quickly, though, and Harry woke that morning with an ominous gloom. That night would be the night that would make or break him. That night was the Autumnal Equinox Dance.
