A/N: I've never written anything that needed a trigger warning before, and I'm not sure it's necessary here, but I want to be cautious and sensitive. There are mentions and discussions of sex causing physical and emotional pain, and using "toys" that cause pain, although the possibly triggering parts are in the scenes leading up to the sex; I think the sex itself is okay, or at least, the emotionally upsetting part isn't related to sex. It's more my typical angst. I hope that makes sense. If you have other questions before you read, please feel free to send me a message on FFN. Happy to give anyone spoilers if it will help. And I have to say, I'm very happy with how the end of this chapter turned out and I hope you are too.
I've also gotten some reviews with guesses about the mystery and I will say that while I've given a number of clues (and some red herrings), I haven't written this story in a way that intends for the reader to be able to figure everything out by the end. This is really a story about Harry and Ginny. There is an answer and a culprit (or culprits?), and all will be revealed soon, but don't expect to be able to find the entire answer yourself. I've had a few really insightful guesses though!
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Lisa and Turpin and Lee Jordan spread their notes on the table and began looking over them again while they waited for Robards to arrive. The newest information Harry had given them was scrawled across the bottom of the parchment and Lee frowned at it, trying to make the disconnected information make sense.
"I still think it's a good thing, even if we don't know why," said Lisa. She spread her hands. "Takes some of the pressure off Harry to time everything so carefully if he doesn't have to worry about Fawn and Archer being there to watch."
"Takes some of the pressure off Harry to have them watching his private life too," agreed Lee. "The next chapter is called 'Love Me Tender' and I can assure you, there is no way in hell Harry will want anyone sitting there in the bedroom with him while he and Ginny . . . well, whatever they do."
"You're assuming he'll be in a bedroom at all," pointed out Lisa. "Given what we know about how the book's been acting, I have a feeling Harry's going to have to be somewhere a bit more . . . unusual."
"Unusual and dangerous, you mean," said Lee. "He looked at his watch. "What time does Harry think Chapter Eleven will open for him? I'd like to know what it says."
"Everyone wants to know what it says, Lee," said Lisa with a smirk. "Or hadn't you noticed?"
Lee flipped her off. "Where is everyone anyway?" he asked. "Isn't Gawain always on our arses to be on time?"
"Sometimes Gawain has other pressing matters to manage first, given that he is the head of this entire office." Their boss walked into the office and cuffed Lee about the head. Lee made a big show of rubbing it while Robards kept talking.
"In this case, I had to organize another team to work on a mass confiscation of the arctic ivy plant," he said. "Apparently news of Harry's stunt got out ahead of the magazine edition and now we've already had three poisonings." He shook his head. "One didn't make it."
Lee and Lisa groaned. Despite the obvious dangerousness of Harry's actions over the past few weeks, more and more readers had decided that what was good enough for Harry Potter and his girlfriend was good enough for them. Although not strictly Auror-level work, some of the trainees were tracking down various outbreaks of copycats that showed the most possible danger to the public.
"What the fuck is wrong with people?" asked Lee.
"Money and sex and the thrill of risk are powerful inducements for bad behavior," pointed out Lisa. "For some people."
"Exactly," said Robards. He pointed his wand at the parchment of notes. "And power. I bet that when we figure out who's behind this, we'll find all of those things figuring into the reasons." He shook his head. "If it was anyone else involved I'd put my galleons on this being some mid-level group who wants to become more powerful or rich, or both. But since it's Potter I want to make sure we investigate the possibility of darker motives."
Lee and Lisa had heard all of this before, of course. They nodded anyway. Lisa frowned.
"I just wish we could figure out the links," she said. "Blaise Zabini has now made at least two comments about the Elder Wand, and his mother insisted on hosting the last party at her home, but we haven't been able to find anything else suspicious about their behavior."
"They certainly don't need money," added Lee. "And Blaise has never struck me as particularly power-hungry. He's content to let others do the work for him. He just wouldn't want to let Harry and his blood traitor girlfriend beat him; I suspect he wants to make sure that Harry doesn't have access to the Elder Wand to cheat with."
"And his mother seemed much more interested in the upcoming magazine article about her skin care," said Robards. "She's getting plenty of attention from that. I don't see how taking out Potter would help."
"Plus we have the problem with the broken Personal Product Portkey," said Lisa. She pointed at the parchment. "It wasn't just with the note Neville tried to send Harry. Remember when Harry couldn't get the message with his changes to the first gala article to go through? What if they're related?"
"So we're back to Marietta?" asked Robards. "She must be working for someone; even for a Ravenclaw, the magic required to curse the book is beyond what an ordinary student a few years out of Hogwarts could do. And all our investigation has revealed her to be nothing beyond ordinary. Have we looked at all her connections?"
"I'll double check them," said Lee. He looked at his watch again. "Harry and Ginny should have access to the next chapter of the book soon. We'll let you know as soon as we hear from him."
"Good," nodded Robards. "There are only two weeks left for the wizards behind this to reveal themselves. They must be getting more desperate, and that only makes things more dangerous. Be careful, you two."
"Yes sir," Lee and Lisa responded.
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Harry paced back and forth, waiting for Ginny to return from a meeting with the Harpies. Given the physical toll the last two weeks had taken on her, Gwenog had insisted that Ginny undergo a full physical review with the team's trainers and a barrage of healers from St. Mungo's before the League started up again. Originally Ginny had been scheduled to start pre-season training this week, but a fortuitously occurring referee strike had pushed the season back until the week after the contest ended, and now she was mostly free to be with Harry.
He liked it better that way. Harry had worked hard to get past his penchant for over-protectiveness when it came to the people he loved, but the past month had seriously tested his resolve. It didn't help that there were some things he had to keep from Ginny for the sake of satisfying the curse. She clearly understood, and hadn't once commented that Harry didn't need to take everything on himself or that she needed space, or any of the dozen other comments she'd be perfectly justified in making, based on Harry's recent behavior. That some of Ginny's agreeability might also have been because she was scared and didn't have answers was a possibility he didn't want to consider. He sighed. The truth was, he missed being able to share everything with Ginny and get her perspective and opinion. Right now, the contest made him feel like he had to act completely misogynistic and one-sided, and he hated it, even apart from the worry about what terrible thing he'd be expected to do next.
His eye caught the third edition, sitting on the coffee table where it had been since he'd brought it downstairs. He'd been planning to wait for Ginny before reading Chapter Eleven but now he flopped onto the sofa and picked up the book, thinking that maybe he could have a plan by the time she got home. The table of contents said this chapter was called "Love Me Tender," and Harry's thoughts had been running wild, thinking about what he was going to be expected to do, and worse, who was going to get to see it on the pages of the magazine. It had been something of a relief to learn that Fawn and Archer apparently didn't have to be physically in the room with him and Ginny, but that understanding also added more questions about how and why they were included in the curse at all. While it was good to know that the reporter and photographer would not have been watch him and Ginny up close and personal anymore, it didn't get them any closer to figuring how who the actual culprits were.
Sighing, Harry turned to the correct page and was immediately assaulted with the sounds of groaning and grunting and screams. He dropped the book in surprise and it fell onto the floor, still open.
"What the hell is that - did Ron forget the silencing charms again?" Ginny walked into the room, still in her Harpies practice gear.
Harry toed the book closed and the noises stopped. "What?"
Ginny walked over and gave him a kiss. "It sounded like someone was having rather violent and intense sex," she said. She smirked. "Not that I think that particularly describes Ron and and Hermione. Bill and Fleur, maybe."
"It was the book," Harry said flatly. He was in no mood for jokes. "The sounds came from the book when I opened it to Chapter Eleven."
"Oh." Ginny stopped smiling too. She swallowed. "Oh." She picked the book up off the floor and sat next to Harry on the sofa.
"You don't have to stay here," he said. "I can listen myself, and then try to figure out a way to shut it up while I read the rest."
"Not a chance," said Ginny.
Harry didn't protest. "Close your eyes. Not for your protection," he added hurriedly. "I'm going to close mine too. "It's easier to focus on what we're hearing."
Ginny nodded and took his hand before closing her eyes. Harry opened the book.
The noise started immediately, and it was uncomfortably obvious that what they were listening to was two people engaged in some sort of sexual act. Harry couldn't recognize the voices, thankfully. The panting and moaning were bad enough, but when they gave way to gasping and other sounds he quickly closed the cover.
"That's enough," he said quickly. "You don't have to listen to any more."
Ginny didn't protest. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I don't want to know what else they're going to say." She bit her lip. Did you see the illustration? And was there one of those poems?"
"I didn't look yet," said Harry. The part of him that was still overprotective was relieved Ginny didn't want to hear anymore. The part that was used to her being a fighter and refusing to back down wanted to encourage her stay engaged. Overprotective won. "I'll take care of the rest and let you know," he said. "I'll set a lot of silencing charms."
A small smile. "Thank you," she said. "I can barely stand it when one of my brothers forgets them."
Harry picked up the book. "I'm just going to . . . yeah," he said, gesturing up the stairs.
Another smile. "Don't have too much fun without me," Ginny said, raising her eyebrows.
Harry appreciated that she was trying. "I want to take a shower with you later," he said. "Don't need a book to help me with that."
Ginny's smile grew bigger. "Don't forget the cushioning charm," she said.
Harry shivered. Ginny loved to give him blow jobs in the shower. He nodded stiffly. "Soon," he promised.
Upstairs, Harry set every silencing charm he knew around the room before opening the book again. He kept his eyes shut, listening to the disembodied couple get louder and their activities get wilder until one and then the other reached the unmistakable sounds of climax. Silence followed, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He looked down at the page.
The illustrated couple was lying next to each other, each breathing heavily. Harry peered carefully at the picture, trying to figure out where they were; it clearly wasn't a bed and the background was hazy. They might have been on the ground, actually. Without preamble, the wizard rolled over onto the witch and the sounds of panting started again. Harry grimaced and
pointed his wand at the page. "Silencio,"he muttered, and to his relief, the noises stopped. He quickly turned the page and found that week's poem.
Wandwork alone is well and good,
But better when you enhance your wood
The pain you'll make remembers fear
and risk of loss of her that's dear
You bought her gifts, that's what you seek?
You both will have to reach your peak
Show your witch just how you care
Nightmares old for you to share.
Harry read the verses a half dozen times, considering and then rejecting various ideas each time. Some of it was obvious; Harry needed to revisit the items he'd bought for Ginny in Indecent Alley, and so that was what he would do first. They were still boxed up at the back of his closet, and while he'd hoped he'd never have to see them again, he couldn't say he was surprised to have them figure into this chapter. But using them was the least of Harry's problems.
Other words jumped out at him: pain, peak, fear, nightmares. He and Ginny were going to have to have sex, and it was going to have to include pain and terror. And not just any sex - sex that brought them both to climax. Truly, there was no part of that plan that didn't make Harry feel sick. How the hell would he even be able to think about orgasm if Ginny was in pain? Would Fawn and Archer have to hear all the details afterwards? He couldn't even begin to imagine performing under those kinds of circumstances.
He'd tried to come up with a loophole in the poison chapter, and look where that had gotten him; Ginny had almost died. No, he was going to have to take this chapter at face value. Harry let his head fall into his hands.
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The next day, with more than a little trepidation, Harry Apparated to Shell Cottage. Ginny came with him willingly, and just as willingly agreed to take her niece out for a romp in the sand while Harry talked to her parents. As soon as the door closed behind Ginny and Victoire, Harry sat down at Bill and Fleur's kitchen table and re-expanded the boxes he'd bought in Indecent Alley and then shrunk to hide at the back of his closet. Fleur chuckled at the sight of the packages.
"'Ow can we 'elp you, 'Arry?" She glanced at her husband. "And are you sure you want Bill here too?"
"I do," said Harry. "I uhh, need both of you." He put his copy of Twelve Ways on the table.
"I looked at Ron's edition," he said. "His chapter is also about sex, but it's a lot more . . . tame." He gestured at the boxes. "I don't know what to do with these, but I think I have to use them somehow," he said. He grimaced. "The book says. . . well, I'm not exactly sure what it says." Harry looked at Bill. "I need to know what the curse requires me to do, and then I um, I need Fleur to help me know how to do it. Without hurting Ginny." He spoke very quickly, looking down at the table.
It was quiet for a moment and Harry had the feeling that Bill and Fleur were having some sort of silent conversation over his head. There was a movement out of the corner of his eye and before he could think to stop it, Bill flipped the book open.
"What the fuck?" he said as the sounds of sex filled the small kitchen. He was staring at the pages in horror while Harry quickly said the silencing spell. The illustrated witch and wizard kept moving though, and Harry realized he hadn't yet watched the entire scene. The couple remained more or less in the missionary position, with the wizard on top of the witch and only his back showing. He started out straddling the witch and Harry couldn't tell what he was doing with his hands or if he was holding something, or really much of what he was doing at all.
The witch's face was visible though, and the second time the couple worked their way through to climax, Harry couldn't take his eyes away. Her illustrated expression changed with almost every thrust of the wizard on top of her, and Harry made himself watch and keep track, feeling more and more sick as her face went from nervous to uncomfortable to frightened to hurting to sad. Only at the very end, when the wizard's movements had become erratic, did the witch's eyes seem to drift to see something far away and a small, brief smile grace her lips. The wizard rolled off and Harry watched witch and wizard recover. This time he noticed that neither of them looked at each other or otherwise seem to acknowledge what had just happened. After a moment the wizards climbed back on and the scene began again. Bill made a sound of disgust.
"What's he doing to her?" he asked. "Harry, there's no way Ginny will let you . . ."
"There's no way I would, I promise," Harry said quickly. "I couldn't - no matter what. And I know she can't." He shook his head. "No way." He finally looked up. "But the book seems to require that both of us . . . finish." He turned the page and showed them both the poem. "I don't know what to do."
Harry forced himself to sit quietly while Bill and Fleur read the poem. One thing he knew from the Aurors was the power of silence; he'd learn more if he didn't put ideas or suggestions in their heads first. From the amount of time it took them both to finish, Harry knew that like he had, they were reading over and over, trying to prize out the meaning of the words in a way that wasn't going to require him to do something he absolutely couldn't.
Finally Fleur pointed at the poem. "I can 'elp you with this, and this," she said, pointing at the first and third stanzas. "Toys from Indecent Alley, 'zey can be exciting, if used correctly." She reached for one of the boxes. "Even pain can create pleasure."
"But only if both partners want it to be that way," said Bill. Now he was the one looking down at the table, rolling a salt shaker around in his hand. Bill's skin was always a little red around the scars that climbed his face but now Harry thought the flush was from something else. He spoke carefully.
"But do you think that pain that both partners . . . want, is enough to satisfy the book?" He looked at the second paragraph. "It seems to be saying that Ginny's going to need to be fearful of the pain, and remember it later." Harry pointed to the end of the poem. "And I need to tell her about an old nightmare of mine, while she's in pain." He grimaced. "And while she and I are . . . you know."
"She'll be nervous at first," said Fleur firmly. "Because she won't know what you plan to do." She opened the box. "Let's see what we 'ave. I'll show you 'ow to turn pain into something less painful."
As Fleur began taking the items Harry had bought out their packaging, he considered the fact that while it was extremely uncomfortable to have to be discussing these matters with members of Ginny's family, it was also oddly comforting. He didn't have to explain Ginny to them, or himself for that matter, and he didn't question their motives.
"Well 'zis won't work." Fleur spoke with casual conviction. "'Zey are for 'Arry's pleasure, not Ginny's." She held up the Quidditch-themed cock rings. Harry blushed. They'd been the first thing he'd grabbed in the first store in Indecent Alley and he hadn't stopped to consider what they were actually used for in his haste to pay and get them stowed out of sight. Bill gave a weak chuckle.
"You got a lot of different sizes there, didn't you?" he said. "I don't know that they'll all . . . never mind."
"Yeah, I don't know either," said Harry quickly. While he wouldn't say that he'd neverwant to experiment with the rings with Ginny - someday - they weren't what he needed right now. He opened one of the other boxes. "I know what these are for; maybe they'll work. If she doesn't know where she is? That could create a little fear, right?"
Fleur gave a delicate scoff. "I assume you and Ginny have used 'ze blindfold before, non? I 'ardly think that is what the book wants."
"Well yeah, of course we have," Harry said, flushing. He tried not to think of the last time Ginny had blindfolded him - with one of her nightgowns - in case Bill was proficient in Legilimency. "I just thought that given the circumstances, it might be enough to . . . scare her?"
Now it was Bill who made a doubtful sound. "As much as I don't want to think about what you and Ginny get up to in your private moments, I agree with Fleur. A blindfold won't be enough." Bill pulled something else out of the box. "And neither will these." He waved a pair of handcuffs. "Even with the spikes."
Fleur was looking through another box. "Bill, go outside and play with Ginny and Victoire," she said suddenly. "I think "Arry and I will 'ave a better talk alone."
Bill opened his mouth and then closed it. He looked back and forth between his wife and Harry, and then nodded before standing up from the table.
"Take some of the biscuits and milk," Fleur said. "Ginny likes the chocolate ones I think." She looked at Harry.
"She does," he agreed. He grinned. "She likes the cinnamon ones too. And the toffee."
Bill snorted. "I'll just take the entire box then," he said. He gave Fleur a lingering kiss until Harry had to look away. "Send a Patronus when you want us back; we might walk down the beach to look for shells."
"Oui," said Fleur. She gave Bill a small push. "Now go."
Once Bill was gone, Fleur turned back to the long box in front of her. She clicked her tongue and then looked at Harry. "Do you know what this does?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "Kind of," he admitted. "I wasn't really thinking of using it, at the time. Just that I needed to buy as many uncomfortable things as possible."
Fleur nodded. "Uncomfortable, yes. That is one way of thinking about it. But if you want to try, then you need to think about it as enjoyable too. Maybe it will be strange enough, and make Ginny nervous, until she sees you knowing what to do." She put her hand on Harry's. It wasn't at all sexual, not from her to him at least, but for a moment Harry was very aware of Fleur's Veela side. It made him think of Ginny, and some of the more adventurous things he'd like to do with her, if he they could choose them together instead of feeling compelled. Fleur smiled as if she knew what Harry was thinking. "I will tell you what you need to know, but only you and Ginny can decide if it works for you."
Harry personally suspected that even if there was some productthat might work for him and Ginny in normal circumstances, it was not likely to be that way under current circumstances. But he listened to Fleur anyway, alternately cringing and swearing in shock as she demonstrated, first in the air, then on several unfortunately unlucky pieces of fruit, and finally on Harry's bare arm. They called Bill and Ginny back inside after that, and if Ginny wondered at Harry's being even more pensive than when they'd arrived, she didn't say anything.
He wrapped his arms around her to Apparate them home and then kept them there when they arrived in the bedroom. Ginny put her head on his chest and Harry played softly with her hair.
"I'd like to make love to you tonight," he said finally. "If you'll let me."
Ginny pulled back and looked at Harry in the eye. "Yes please," she said without hesitation.
Harry nodded mutely and led her over to the bed. "This isn't a practice," he said abruptly. "It's nothing to do with that."
"I know," Ginny said. She stepped close to him and slipped her hands underneath his shirt. She stopped. "Is this okay? Or did you want to . . .?"
"Do whatever you want," Harry said quickly. "It's up to you." Unspoken was the fact that the next time they came together, Ginny wasn't going to be in control at all.
"Stand still," Ginny said softly. She moved her hands to the front of Harry's trousers.
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Despite what Bill and Fleur had said, Harry decided to blindfold Ginny before Apparating with her to his chosen location for them to work on Chapter Eleven. He'd told Ginny very little about what he had planned - trying to create as much uncertainty, and thus fear, as he could - and she hadn't asked. Harry knew that ironically, Ginny's trust in him could end up being their downfall. He doubted there was anything he could do (or that he'd agree to do, at least), that would cause the pain the book required. Still, without any better idea, he'd packed up the boxes he'd shown Fleur, talked to the appropriate people, and told Ginny that he was going to blindfold her. Told her, and didn't ask because again, he thought it might help. And yet, even giving her that small order was hard for him. She stood quietly in their bedroom, waiting while Harry performed the charm to blur her sight.
"What do you see?" he asked. Ginny opened her eyes.
"Not much," she said. "Some dark, blurry shapes." Her brow wrinkled. "It's a little disconcerting."
Good, Harry knew he should say. He silently took Ginny's hand. "I can't . . . I won't lift it until we're there," he said instead. He took her elbow in the most formal gesture he could muster and turned on the spot without a word.
The Aurors' planning had worked, and it was very quiet on the Hogwarts grounds when Harry arrived. He knew that Fawn and Archer were nearby, attended again by healers and curse-breakers, but he was relieved not to see them. Ginny clutched his arm tightly as he led her to the Room of Requirement. For a moment Harry wondered if the smell of the castle would give their location away, but Ginny gave no sign that she recognized anything. When Harry let go of her to open the door, Ginny wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture and Harry nearly gave up there. He took her hand again as quickly as he could and led her inside, revealing the room to be a dank and shadowy dungeon, the creepiest his imagination had been able to conjure. The stone walls were mossy and dripped with moisture, and rusty manacles hung between small barred windows that were too dirty to see through. The only light came from a few guttering candles stuck in niches by the closed door. Harry had a thought, and a pile of dingy blankets appeared on the ground in one corner. A spider spun a web across the legs of an upturned table and several rats skittered across the floor.
He took the charm off Ginny and she looked rubbed her eyes and looked around. "Where are . . ." she began, then shook her head. I don't want to know," she said, shivering.
"I wouldn't tell you anyway," said Harry. He gestured at the blankets. "We need to go over there."
As Ginny followed him across the room, Harry realized just how ill-equipped he was for the task at hand. He'd vaguely thought once he and Ginny were here, in the eerie space he'd created, they would both somehow be able to get into the mindset of what needed to be done. One of the manacles shook on the wall as they walked by, the clattering sound echoing off the walls. Harry didn't even consider it. He sat awkwardly down on the pallet of blankets and fumbled with his robes.
"Sit down," he said. "Please."
Ginny complied. "Should I take mine off too?" she asked.
Harry didn't hear her, he was too busy unwrapping the sparking wand that Fleur had tried to show him how to use. He said the spell and watched as crackles of light traveled up the end and out into the air. Those crackles stung, he knew from experience, and he couldn't even begin to imagine how he was going to use it with Ginny.
She looked at the wand, her eyes wide. "Is that . . . I've heard of those," she said. "Tamara has one, I think," she said, naming the Harpies' Keeper. Knowing what he did about Tamara, Harry was not entirely surprised. She was outrageously uninhibited and could be a ton of fun, to a point. He nodded. "It can be arousing," he said carefully. "I've heard." He waved the wand and the crackles grew bigger.
"O. . . kay," said Ginny. Harry heard the doubt clearly in her voice, and remembered that Ginny had been the one to Apparate to Northern Ireland in the middle of the night to rescue Tamara after she'd gone joyriding on an illegal flying carpet with a group of sex workers she'd met in Indecent Alley. He wished he could tell Ginny that he shared her hesitance; when Fleur had demonstrated the wand on Harry's skin, all he'd been able to think about was that it hurt. But he had to put that thought aside; he was here to show Ginny that the two of them could have sex, could climax even, while using the wand. He just had to focus on Ginny, and how much he loved her, and how soft and smooth her skin felt under his hands . . .
Which unfortunately made him think about how much he didn't want to mar that skin with a shocking spark. Harry still had a red circle on his own arm from Fleur's demonstration, and his own attempts to "stroke gently" across the side of an apple had resulted in a mess of applesauce all over the kitchen.
He pushed the thought away. Kissing. Maybe if he started with kissing, the . . . other things would start to feel more natural. He leaned in. "Close your eyes," he said to Ginny.
It was no use. No matter how much Harry tried to get in the mood, he couldn't keep his mind off the moment when he'd have to touch the wand to Ginny's skin and watch her flinch - or worse. His fledgling erection wouldn't grow any bigger, even when he picked Ginny up to straddle his lap. Finally, in desperation, he handed her the wand. "Maybe you should go first," he said. They were both only half undressed; normally by this point in their foreplay Harry would have pulled off all of Ginny's clothes and buried his face between her legs. Normally he'd be straining to ignore his arousal until he'd brought Ginny to orgasm at least once. Normally she'd be making sounds that threatened to derail Harry's tenuous control over his own body.
Now, Harry felt almost nothing, and he hated it.
Ginny took the wand cautiously, looking at it like it was covered in Stinksap.
"The spell is 'energerotica'" Harry said. "It's not difficult." Indeed, back at Shell Cottage Harry had barely finished speaking before the wand had lit up and sent sparks winging across the table. It was meant to be easy, Fleur explained, because of the expectation that the witch or wizard casting it would be too distracted to focus on preciseness. Ginny nodded.
"And the wand movement?" she asked.
"Doesn't matter," Harry shrugged. "Just . . . touch lightly. And quickly." he leaned in. "I'll be kissing you on your body, not on your lips. So you can say the incantation." The words sounded awkward and stilted.
"Okay," said Ginny. She looked at the wand in her hand and Harry saw her swallow. "Okay."
Harry really tried. He kissed Ginny's jaw and down her neck, and moved a hand to her waist and then up towards her breast. But the entire time he was waiting to hear the spell, waiting to feel the sting of pain on his skin. Every moment it didn't happen made him a little more stressed, and that in turn made him feel the moment less. Doggedly, Harry kept moving his lips across her skin.
"Energerotica," Ginny said. Harry tensed, waiting, but the pain didn't come. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on kissing Ginny's collarbone.
"Energerotica." Ginny spoke a little louder. "Harry?"
He looked up. Ginny was frowning at the wand, or more specifically at the tiny spot of light that flickered feebly and then went out. "I thought you said it was easy."
Harry felt a heavy sense of malaise wash over him. He didn't have to ask Ginny to try the spell again to know what was wrong. His mouth was suddenly dry. He picked up his holly and phoenix feather wand.
"Aguamenti," he muttered. A few trickles of water dripped off the end. Ginny made a small sound of distress and Harry knew that somewhere else in the castle, the healers were likely seeing Fawn and Archer's magic waning too. He swore an oath.
Ginny put her hand on his arm. "Maybe we should try something else," she said softly.
Harry nodded dumbly, not wanting to tell her that he didn't have anything else. He mentally kicked himself for not preparing more, for not sharing his ideas for the sparking wand ahead of time. Maybe if he hadn't been so focused on how much he didn't think it would work, he and Ginny could have figured out a way - together - to enjoy themselves enough. It was too late now; Harry's anxiety about failing and not having another plan overrode any semblance of arousal. He threw the sex wand as hard as he could; it winked out of sight before it landed, the Room taking it to keep for some other, more adventurous person to find one day. Harry tried to think.
"We're done for now," he said. "It's not going to be here."
"But our magic . . ." Ginny began. Harry shook his head. "Our magic - and Fawn and Archer's magic - is fine as long as I'm not actively failing to satisfy the book." He remembered a conversation he'd had with the Auror team and Tulip. "I have the entire week to get through each chapter, but we aren't losing our magic the entire week, only when I'm doing something wrong."
Ginny shivered. "The book knows," she said quietly.
Harry nodded, no longer surprised by the sentience of the third edition. "I just need to figure out what it wants me to do now, and what I need to do to get there." He started to stand up, wanting to get out of the dungeon as quickly as possible.
"What's that?" Ginny asked suddenly. She turned her head to look at something over Harry's shoulder.
"What's what?" asked Harry. He spun in the direction she was looking, wand out. By the thrum of power he felt, he knew that he'd been right about his magic; it was already back. For now at least.
"That sound," said Ginny. Her eyes were closed as she listened to something Harry couldn't hear. "I've heard it before."
There was a tremor of fear in her voice that hadn't been there even when Harry had blurred her sight. He took her hand and they both stayed very still until he heard it too.
Harry immediately knew what it was even though he'd never heard the sound quite that way before. Until the night he'd walked into the Forbidden Forest and waited for death, Harry had understood the language of snakes without consciously thinking about it. The hissing sound that filled the dungeon now was new to him, but obviously not to Ginny. She trembled against him.
"I thought you killed it," she said.
"I did," Harry said grimly. He stood up and pulled Ginny with him. "Keep your eyes shut," he said. To their right, a section of the wall slid away, revealing another room beyond.
Harry knew immediately that it was the real thing, not a copy created by the Room of Requirement. He thought back to his last comments, that he needed to figure out what the book wanted him to do and what he needed to do to succeed. Words from the poem jumped into his head. Not the ones about physical pain and sex toys, but the others about remembering.
The pain you'll make remembers fear
and risk of loss of her that's dear
Show your witch just how you care
Nightmares old for you to share.
Without even having to try, Harry remembered the fear felt by his twelve-year-old self, walking alone into the Chamber of Secrets and seeing Ginny lying on the ground, seemingly dead. Even before he'd completely understood what was happening, before he'd faced Voldemort for the third time in his life, Harry had been terrified. If there was any nightmare that he and Ginny shared, that was it.
He tugged gently on her arm. "We have to go in there," he said.
Ginny stared, frozen. "That's . . . that's . . ." She shook her head. "I can't. I can't go back there."
Harry turned her to face him, away from the entrance to the Chamber. "You won't be alone this time," he said softly. "I'll be there with you every second, I swear." He wrapped his arms around her. "I couldn't promise it last time but I can now," he said. "I won't let anything hurt you."
"Or anyone?" Ginny asked quietly.
Harry nodded firmly. "Nothing in there will be able to touch you."
Ginny nodded. "Okay then." She let Harry lead her through the opening the wall. It closed behind them and Ginny gave a small squeak of fear. "How will we get out?"
"Let me handle that," said Harry. Truly, he didn't know yet; the last time he'd been in the Chamber, Fawkes had arrived just in time to save his life and then pull them back into Myrtle's bathroom. Ron and Hermione had come down during the Final Battle but Harry realized he had no idea how they'd gotten out. But he'd worry about that later. They walked further inside.
The first thing Harry saw - to his relief - was the enormous skeleton of the Basilisk, now missing a few extra fangs. Whatever hissing they'd heard was only a memory, created by the Room. He turned to Ginny, expecting to see that she was comforted by the sight too. But Ginny wasn't even looking at the snake. Instead, her gaze was captured by a small, black-smudged spot on the stone floor. She pulled out of Harry's arms and stumbled towards it before falling to her knees.
"That's were he came from," she said, pointing at the spot. "It was right there - the diary was. And he came out of it. Riddle." She whispered the last. "He used me." She turned to look at Harry. "He used me to get to you."
Harry stepped close to Ginny again. He was aching to hold her but he held back, unsure what she was seeing. "He did," he agreed. It would be useless to give Ginny excuses, that she'd been young, that Riddle was evil, that she couldn't have known. She'd heard them all before. The excuses had never made Harry feel better either. Instead, he remembered with her.
"You were so small, lying there," he said. He bent down and touched her arm. "I wasn't in love with you then, but when I saw you I felt . . . protective. Even before Riddle appeared."
A small smile. "You're good at being protective."
"At being over-protective," Harry corrected. He put his hands on Ginny's shoulders. "Ron was the first friend I ever had. The Burrow was the first home I'd ever been in where people didn't treat me like I was a waste of space. And you were part of that, even when I barely knew you beyond being my best mate's sister."
Ginny moved closer to Harry and he dropped to the ground next to her. She scooted into his lap and put her head on his chest. "Do you think he knew?" she asked.
"Who?" Harry brushed his hand down Ginny's arm.
"Riddle. I'd told him about my crush on you, of course. Do you think he realized that we were going to be . . . more, someday?"
Harry thought about that. "I don't," he finally said. "Honestly, I don't think that Voldemort - and I include him when he was just Tom Riddle too - I don't think he had the capacity to understand love. He underestimated it for sure, but I really don't think he even knew what it meant. I don't think he'd ever felt it, or wanted to." His arms tightened around her. "He didn't understand how I felt about you then; he certainly couldn't know how much I'm in love with you now."
Ginny shivered. "I'm in love with you too," she said.
Harry chuckled. "I know."
Ginny looked around the Chamber. "I can't believe it could have ended here," she said, pensive again.
Harry didn't try to point out that everything was okay because it hadn'tended there. "It could have ended in a lot of places," he said instead. "Any one of which would have kept me from you."
"You killed him," Ginny said solemnly. She pointed at the smudge of ink on the ground. "Right there you killed him and saved me." She turned in his lap. "And then you killed him again and saved all of us."
Ginny didn't normally speak in such a grand, Daily Prophet-headline sort of way and Harry knew her mind was still halfway back in her first year of school. "You were right there with me," Harry said. "From the moment I kissed you in the common room, everything in my life was better because you were in it." He shifted Ginny in his lap. "Even when we were apart, all I wanted was to get back to you."
"You thought of me, before Voldemort killed you," she said.
Harry nodded. "I did. I've told you it before, but I hope you really understand it now." He tilted her chin up to look at him. "As much as you think I was always saving you, you were the one who saved me." He spoke fiercely. What would my life be, if I didn't have you to share it with?"
Something blazed in Ginny's eyes then; Harry could almost see her locking the terrible memories of Tom Riddle and the diary away into the farthest reaches of her mind.
"I love you, Harry Potter," she said with equal fierceness. The smile was back. "And it means a hell of a lot more now than it did when I gushed into my mirror when I was ten." Ginny moved so that she was facing Harry in his lap. She threaded her hands behind his neck and pulled his face closer to hers. "It feels better to kiss you than my mirror too."
Ginny showed him then, holding Harry's head in place and kissing him as if she hadn't for days. For weeks, even. When she wrapped her legs around his waist Harry put his hands on Ginny's hips and pulled her firmly against him.
This time they both pulled recklessly at clothing, eager to feel skin against skin. As soon as they were naked, Ginny transfigured her cloak into a soft mattress and they tumbled together onto it, lips and hands finding favorite spots to touch and taste. When Ginny pushed Harry down on his back and climbed fully onto him he felt a renewed surge of energy between them, stronger than anything they could have created with a toy from a shop. The rocked together, needing no time at all to find their rhythm. It may not have been the most artful love they'd ever made, but as Harry met Ginny's eyes and held them he was certain it was among the most important.
For a moment as she rode him, Ginny looked away to a space beyond where she and Harry lay. She stilled for just a moment, seeing something that was no longer there, and then gave a triumphant smile that told Harry all he needed. Ginny's hips thrust against him and she cried out with pure pleasure. Harry followed a moment later, pulling her down to lie on top of him as he finished so that he could feel every part of her against him as he gave his final thrusts. Ginny breathed heavily against his neck and her hair tickled his chest. They were quiet for many minutes.
When the two of them finally sat up and began performing cleaning spells and searching for errant pieces of clothing, Ginny looked around in satisfaction. "This place holds no power over me anymore," she said. The note of triumph was there again.
Harry kissed her. "Or over me either." He smirked. "Now it's just the place that was the catalyst for Ron and Hermione's first kiss."
Ginny laughed. "I'll never understand that," she said. She looked around. "But they must have found a way out," she said. "I assume Fawkes didn't make a reappearance."
Harry shook his head. "Fawkes only appeared for those who showed true loyalty to Dumbledore," he said, feeling a pang of sadness about his former Headmaster. "I don't know that anyone has seen him since the funeral."
"That's a shame," said Ginny. "I remember the phoenix song." She turned in a circle. "But that doesn't help us now."
Harry took out his wand. "I'll send Robards a Patronus," he said. "I'm sure he'll be able to figure out something."
Ginny kissed him. "I'm not worried," she said. "Not even a little bit."