Chapter Five: Reading Material
Harry and Ginny were kissing. Very passionately. Harry's hands were tangled in Ginny's soft red hair; her arms were around his waist. Little moans escaped from her throat.
Harry and Ginny were arguing. No, they were fighting. Ginny was sobbing angrily. Harry was red in the face from shouting. What were they fighting about?
Ginny turned on her heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a bang.
Harry sat up in bed, gasping. He blinked and looked around the room; thin streaks of sunlight peeked through the closed shutters. He was alone, in his bed, in his own room. His t-shirt and boxers were soaked with sweat.
He rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. As he stood up he saw to his extreme annoyance that once again he was standing at attention.
"Bloody hell," he thought. It was as if the appendage between his legs had a brain and a will all its own. He thought of dead kittens again and this time, the image worked.
He shook his head and took a swig of water from the glass on his nightstand, then checked his clock. Nearly nine o'clock in the morning-far earlier than he'd intended to get up, considering how late it had been when he'd finally gotten home from Ginny's flat. Ron and Hermione had spent the night at Hermione's parents' house, so Harry was alone.
For a moment he considered crawling back into bed, but he realized he was too awake to fall asleep. Then he remembered the books Ginny had given him last night.
"No time like the present," he muttered aloud, fetching the books from his desk.
His eyes scanned the title.
"The Kama Sutra," he read slowly. He opened the book to a random page and gasped out loud. He hadn't known what to expect when he read the books Ginny had given him, but he certainly hadn't expected pictures.
He studied the painting on the page again, blinking. It was clear what the two people in the picture were doing, but as Harry turned the book on its side to study the painting from a different angle, he wondered just how on earth two people could possibly have sex in the manner the two people in the painting were having it. He realized he'd have to start at the beginning with that one.
He put the first book down on his bed and glanced at the second.
"Tantric Sex," he read aloud. He looked on the back cover. "The complete guide to the ultimate in sexual and spiritual fulfillment. Learn how to discipline your body and mind to achieve excellent technique and amazing stamina, and how to achieve perfect pleasure for yourself and your partner."
That's more like it, Harry thought, sitting down on his bed and opening the book to read.
"Chapter One: Breathing," he read. Breathing? He thought back to his session with Ginny the previous night, and how she had to keep reminding him to breathe. He wasn't sure a whole chapter devoted to breathing would be that interesting, but figured he'd at least read the first few pages. Very quickly he became fascinated. Who knew that the simple act of breathing could cleanse and restore the body's balance and something called the chakras?
"A simple breathing exercise, done daily for as little as five minutes, will calm the body and the mind and open the spirit to receive renewed vitality, energy and focus."
Harry read the next page.
"There is a breathing practice in yoga that uses the heroic breath," Harry read. "The heroic breath brings the mind inward, aligns the body with the mind, releases tension and increases mental focus and discipline. To achieve this heroic breath, seat yourself in a cross-legged position on top of several folded blankets. This allows the hips to rest higher than the knees, which allows for freer movement of the breath. Rest hands comfortably on the knees. Sit tall, with the spine in a natural curve, the shoulders back. Close the eyes and focus inward. The sound of the breath is what counts here. As you breathe in through the nostrils, focus on the gentle hiss of air as oxygen enters your lungs. As you breathe out through the mouth, hear the sound of the breath exit your lungs and your mouth. Pay attention to the movement of the abdomen and the chest as you breathe. Do not force the breath in and out."
Harry read over the instructions again. It sounded like a lot of hooey to him, but then again, last night breathing had been the thing that had kept him from losing himself. He felt a stirring in his groin again as he thought of his hands on Ginny, the way her tongue had tasted of peppermints.
"Knock it off," he said out loud to his crotch and blinking again.
He piled up some blankets and sat down on them in a cross-legged position. He was at least grateful that he wouldn't be required to make any weird humming noises, which Parvati Patil had done in her seventh year when she'd taken up meditation as a way, so she said, to open up her Inner Eye (Parvati was a big believer in Divination).
He let his hands rest on his knees and closed his eyes. He sat up tall and focused on his breathing. Into the nose, out the mouth. He heard the hissing noises as he breathed in and out, felt the way his abdomen expanded and contracted, felt his shoulders lift and fall gently with each breath.
He lost track of time. His mind was a blank slate. All he could hear was his own breathing. Into the nose, out the mouth. He felt himself grow strangely lighter. His body seemed to be almost floating, even though he knew he was still sitting on the blankets...
"I'm home!"
Harry jerked and his eyes flew open. He wasn't sure just how long he'd been meditating but it felt like quite some time. He was distinctly annoyed at Ron for having interrupted him. And he was even more annoyed when Ron burst into his room without knocking.
"Hey," said Ron, then took note of Harry, sitting cross-legged on the pile of blankets. "Uh, what are you doing?"
"Don't you knock?" Harry said irritably, getting up.
"Sorry," said Ron. "What's that you're reading?"
Harry felt his stomach give a lurch. He scooped up the book from the floor.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just...uh...something...something Lupin gave me."
"Lupin?" said Ron suspiciously.
"Yeah," said Harry, his mind searching for a lie. "Uh, it's a history of werewolves."
"Uh huh," said Ron. "Sounds boring."
"Not really," said Harry, hoping he sounded convincing. The truth was he and Ron hardly ever read books unless they had to.
"Maybe I could borrow it when you're done, then," Ron suggested, through narrowed blue eyes. He was now fully inside Harry's room; Harry resisted the urge to tell him to get the hell out. Who the hell did Ron think he was, anyway, barging in on him like this?
"Uh, sure," said Harry. "Whatever."
"Or maybe I could just borrow this one," said Ron, snatching the Kama Sutra from Harry's bed.
"Gimme that!" Harry snapped, reaching for it, but Ron held it up.
"What is this?" Ron asked turning around to try and look at the title of the book.
"Ron, dammit-" But Ron held the book up again, leaving Harry to jump up and down impotently in a futile attempt to retrieve the book. Damn Ron and his height, his long arms!
"Give it back!" Harry shouted.
"All right, all right, mate," said Ron, laughing. "Just quit jumping around like a bloody prat. You're embarrassing yourself."
"Sod you," said Harry angrily. "Maybe if you weren't so freakishly tall..."
"Six-foot-four is not freakishly tall," said Ron indignantly. "You're just jealous because you're so short."
"Five foot ten is NOT short," said Harry angrily, although of course he WAS jealous that Ron was so tall. "Now give me that book."
"Fine," said Ron, and he handed Harry the book, but not before his eyes caught the title.
"The Kama Sutra," he said, as Harry snatched the book away.
"It's...it's a history," said Harry quickly. "Of...of wizards in India."
"Oh, another history," said Ron dryly. "Nice try, mate. But I've read that one. If it's a history of anything it's a history of sex."
Harry went very red in the face and looked at the floor.
"So," said Ron, grinning, "trying to, uh, 'bone up' on your shagging skills?"
"Oh, shut UP!" said Harry angrily. "You know, just because you and Hermione screw every night doesn't mean you have to rub it in that I'm rubbish when it comes to girls!"
Ron stared at Harry in surprise. "Easy, mate," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean-"
"Yeah, whatever," said Harry, now in a temper.
"Look, Harry," said Ron quickly. "I'm sorry. Honest. I didn't know-"
"Well of course you didn't know!" Harry bellowed. "You're too busy fucking your brains out to notice much of anything these days! Meanwhile I'm out there making a complete arse of myself with women, none of whom will give me the time of day except to say that they went out on a date with the 'famous Harry Potter.' Except Famous Harry Potter is so pathetic every girl dumps him after the first date. It's lovely for you, isn't it, having a girl who's mad about you and who, after TWO AND A HALF YEARS, I might add, shags you stupid every bloody night. It must make you feel great to finally be better at something than me. Ron Weasley, Shag Champion of Britain. And look, there's Famous Harry Potter, what a loser. Only shagged two girls in his life-"
"Two?" Ron interrupted. Harry stopped mid-pace and swallowed. Oops. He hadn't meant to let THAT slip out.
"I thought you said Susan was the only girl," said Ron. "When did you...who's this second girl?"
Harry swallowed again and looked directly at Ron. "Nobody you know," lied Harry quickly, "and I don't feel like discussing it with you."
"Fine," said Ron, holding up his hands. He didn't seem too upset that Harry had just insulted him. If anything, he looked at Harry with sympathy, which only served to make Harry even angrier.
"Stop looking at me like I'm some freak!" he yelled.
"I'm not!" Ron yelled back. "Bloody hell, Harry, what's wrong with you? Look, I'm sorry you're having problems with girls, okay, but I'm not making fun of you, I swear. And it's not like I'm some bloody male tart or something, all right? I haven't been out there shagging half of Britain, remember? Hermione-you know, my girlfriend? My ONLY girl?"
"Dammit," said Harry, slamming 'Tantric Sex' onto his desk in frustration.
"I'm sorry, okay?" said Ron. "I didn't mean to-"
"Forget it," said Harry. "I'm sorry, too. Shit. I'm a mess. Reading these bloody books, trying to be 'cool' or something. I'm pathetic."
"You're not," said Ron firmly. "And those books are damn valuable, if you ask me." He grinned. "Taught me most everything I know."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's great, Ron. But you have a girlfriend, remember? I don't."
"Then why bother reading-"
"Because," Harry said heavily. He might as well come clean about it now. "Cho wrote me, okay? I know, I know," he added quickly, seeing Ron's expression go sour and his mouth open to say something.
"She wrote me last week and told me she's coming into town for her holiday," Harry explained. "She wants to get together and, in her words, start things up again."
Ron shook his head. "Harry, that girl is bad news and you know it," he said. "You and her couldn't even get along for two minutes without fighting."
"So?" said Harry defiantly. "I seem to recall you and Hermione having a row every ten minutes before you finally-"
"That was different," said Ron firmly. "We both liked each other at the time but were too stupid and stubborn to admit it. You and Cho-it just didn't work."
"Ron, I was fifteen," Harry protested. "I mean, not that I'm much better with girls now, of course, but I think I've grown up just a BIT since then. And...and I really like Cho, all right. I always have. I hate that things ended so badly between us. This is a second chance for us, you know? Neither of us has any more baggage hanging over us. I mean, it just might work this time."
Ron looked at Harry for a long moment. "I dunno, mate," he said at last. "I don't trust her. I mean, she played with your mind how many times, Harry?"
"It wasn't all her fault," said Harry stubbornly. "I was a mess, the timing was always bad."
"Yeah, well, maybe that's some higher power trying to tell you something," said Ron. "Maybe it's just not meant to happen between you two."
"I have to try," said Harry. "Okay? I have to give it a chance. I mean, we're both finally free, we're older. I have to try. I'm crazy about her."
Ron sighed and looked down. "All right, mate," he said. "You'll do what you want. But just be careful, okay?"
Harry nodded.
"Don't bother reading the later chapters of that," said Ron, pointing to the Kama Sutra. "Hermione and me tried one of those inverted positions. I can safely say it's not only damn near impossible but it's also damn uncomfortable."
"Uh, Ron, I REALLY didn't want to know that," said Harry, feeling a grin come over his face, relieved that Ron wasn't angry with him for his outburst.
"Hey, I'm just passing along some friendly advice," said Ron, holding up his hands and grinning back. "The Tantric stuff, though-that's excellent. Definitely read up on that. Since I've been doing that breathing stuff, I'm able to go at it for five hours straight-"
"GET OUT!" Harry yelled, laughing and throwing a pillow at Ron's head.
Harry and Ginny were kissing. Very passionately. Harry's hands were tangled in Ginny's soft red hair; her arms were around his waist. Little moans escaped from her throat.
Harry and Ginny were arguing. No, they were fighting. Ginny was sobbing angrily. Harry was red in the face from shouting. What were they fighting about?
Ginny turned on her heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a bang.
Harry sat up in bed, gasping. He blinked and looked around the room; thin streaks of sunlight peeked through the closed shutters. He was alone, in his bed, in his own room. His t-shirt and boxers were soaked with sweat.
He rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. As he stood up he saw to his extreme annoyance that once again he was standing at attention.
"Bloody hell," he thought. It was as if the appendage between his legs had a brain and a will all its own. He thought of dead kittens again and this time, the image worked.
He shook his head and took a swig of water from the glass on his nightstand, then checked his clock. Nearly nine o'clock in the morning-far earlier than he'd intended to get up, considering how late it had been when he'd finally gotten home from Ginny's flat. Ron and Hermione had spent the night at Hermione's parents' house, so Harry was alone.
For a moment he considered crawling back into bed, but he realized he was too awake to fall asleep. Then he remembered the books Ginny had given him last night.
"No time like the present," he muttered aloud, fetching the books from his desk.
His eyes scanned the title.
"The Kama Sutra," he read slowly. He opened the book to a random page and gasped out loud. He hadn't known what to expect when he read the books Ginny had given him, but he certainly hadn't expected pictures.
He studied the painting on the page again, blinking. It was clear what the two people in the picture were doing, but as Harry turned the book on its side to study the painting from a different angle, he wondered just how on earth two people could possibly have sex in the manner the two people in the painting were having it. He realized he'd have to start at the beginning with that one.
He put the first book down on his bed and glanced at the second.
"Tantric Sex," he read aloud. He looked on the back cover. "The complete guide to the ultimate in sexual and spiritual fulfillment. Learn how to discipline your body and mind to achieve excellent technique and amazing stamina, and how to achieve perfect pleasure for yourself and your partner."
That's more like it, Harry thought, sitting down on his bed and opening the book to read.
"Chapter One: Breathing," he read. Breathing? He thought back to his session with Ginny the previous night, and how she had to keep reminding him to breathe. He wasn't sure a whole chapter devoted to breathing would be that interesting, but figured he'd at least read the first few pages. Very quickly he became fascinated. Who knew that the simple act of breathing could cleanse and restore the body's balance and something called the chakras?
"A simple breathing exercise, done daily for as little as five minutes, will calm the body and the mind and open the spirit to receive renewed vitality, energy and focus."
Harry read the next page.
"There is a breathing practice in yoga that uses the heroic breath," Harry read. "The heroic breath brings the mind inward, aligns the body with the mind, releases tension and increases mental focus and discipline. To achieve this heroic breath, seat yourself in a cross-legged position on top of several folded blankets. This allows the hips to rest higher than the knees, which allows for freer movement of the breath. Rest hands comfortably on the knees. Sit tall, with the spine in a natural curve, the shoulders back. Close the eyes and focus inward. The sound of the breath is what counts here. As you breathe in through the nostrils, focus on the gentle hiss of air as oxygen enters your lungs. As you breathe out through the mouth, hear the sound of the breath exit your lungs and your mouth. Pay attention to the movement of the abdomen and the chest as you breathe. Do not force the breath in and out."
Harry read over the instructions again. It sounded like a lot of hooey to him, but then again, last night breathing had been the thing that had kept him from losing himself. He felt a stirring in his groin again as he thought of his hands on Ginny, the way her tongue had tasted of peppermints.
"Knock it off," he said out loud to his crotch and blinking again.
He piled up some blankets and sat down on them in a cross-legged position. He was at least grateful that he wouldn't be required to make any weird humming noises, which Parvati Patil had done in her seventh year when she'd taken up meditation as a way, so she said, to open up her Inner Eye (Parvati was a big believer in Divination).
He let his hands rest on his knees and closed his eyes. He sat up tall and focused on his breathing. Into the nose, out the mouth. He heard the hissing noises as he breathed in and out, felt the way his abdomen expanded and contracted, felt his shoulders lift and fall gently with each breath.
He lost track of time. His mind was a blank slate. All he could hear was his own breathing. Into the nose, out the mouth. He felt himself grow strangely lighter. His body seemed to be almost floating, even though he knew he was still sitting on the blankets...
"I'm home!"
Harry jerked and his eyes flew open. He wasn't sure just how long he'd been meditating but it felt like quite some time. He was distinctly annoyed at Ron for having interrupted him. And he was even more annoyed when Ron burst into his room without knocking.
"Hey," said Ron, then took note of Harry, sitting cross-legged on the pile of blankets. "Uh, what are you doing?"
"Don't you knock?" Harry said irritably, getting up.
"Sorry," said Ron. "What's that you're reading?"
Harry felt his stomach give a lurch. He scooped up the book from the floor.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just...uh...something...something Lupin gave me."
"Lupin?" said Ron suspiciously.
"Yeah," said Harry, his mind searching for a lie. "Uh, it's a history of werewolves."
"Uh huh," said Ron. "Sounds boring."
"Not really," said Harry, hoping he sounded convincing. The truth was he and Ron hardly ever read books unless they had to.
"Maybe I could borrow it when you're done, then," Ron suggested, through narrowed blue eyes. He was now fully inside Harry's room; Harry resisted the urge to tell him to get the hell out. Who the hell did Ron think he was, anyway, barging in on him like this?
"Uh, sure," said Harry. "Whatever."
"Or maybe I could just borrow this one," said Ron, snatching the Kama Sutra from Harry's bed.
"Gimme that!" Harry snapped, reaching for it, but Ron held it up.
"What is this?" Ron asked turning around to try and look at the title of the book.
"Ron, dammit-" But Ron held the book up again, leaving Harry to jump up and down impotently in a futile attempt to retrieve the book. Damn Ron and his height, his long arms!
"Give it back!" Harry shouted.
"All right, all right, mate," said Ron, laughing. "Just quit jumping around like a bloody prat. You're embarrassing yourself."
"Sod you," said Harry angrily. "Maybe if you weren't so freakishly tall..."
"Six-foot-four is not freakishly tall," said Ron indignantly. "You're just jealous because you're so short."
"Five foot ten is NOT short," said Harry angrily, although of course he WAS jealous that Ron was so tall. "Now give me that book."
"Fine," said Ron, and he handed Harry the book, but not before his eyes caught the title.
"The Kama Sutra," he said, as Harry snatched the book away.
"It's...it's a history," said Harry quickly. "Of...of wizards in India."
"Oh, another history," said Ron dryly. "Nice try, mate. But I've read that one. If it's a history of anything it's a history of sex."
Harry went very red in the face and looked at the floor.
"So," said Ron, grinning, "trying to, uh, 'bone up' on your shagging skills?"
"Oh, shut UP!" said Harry angrily. "You know, just because you and Hermione screw every night doesn't mean you have to rub it in that I'm rubbish when it comes to girls!"
Ron stared at Harry in surprise. "Easy, mate," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean-"
"Yeah, whatever," said Harry, now in a temper.
"Look, Harry," said Ron quickly. "I'm sorry. Honest. I didn't know-"
"Well of course you didn't know!" Harry bellowed. "You're too busy fucking your brains out to notice much of anything these days! Meanwhile I'm out there making a complete arse of myself with women, none of whom will give me the time of day except to say that they went out on a date with the 'famous Harry Potter.' Except Famous Harry Potter is so pathetic every girl dumps him after the first date. It's lovely for you, isn't it, having a girl who's mad about you and who, after TWO AND A HALF YEARS, I might add, shags you stupid every bloody night. It must make you feel great to finally be better at something than me. Ron Weasley, Shag Champion of Britain. And look, there's Famous Harry Potter, what a loser. Only shagged two girls in his life-"
"Two?" Ron interrupted. Harry stopped mid-pace and swallowed. Oops. He hadn't meant to let THAT slip out.
"I thought you said Susan was the only girl," said Ron. "When did you...who's this second girl?"
Harry swallowed again and looked directly at Ron. "Nobody you know," lied Harry quickly, "and I don't feel like discussing it with you."
"Fine," said Ron, holding up his hands. He didn't seem too upset that Harry had just insulted him. If anything, he looked at Harry with sympathy, which only served to make Harry even angrier.
"Stop looking at me like I'm some freak!" he yelled.
"I'm not!" Ron yelled back. "Bloody hell, Harry, what's wrong with you? Look, I'm sorry you're having problems with girls, okay, but I'm not making fun of you, I swear. And it's not like I'm some bloody male tart or something, all right? I haven't been out there shagging half of Britain, remember? Hermione-you know, my girlfriend? My ONLY girl?"
"Dammit," said Harry, slamming 'Tantric Sex' onto his desk in frustration.
"I'm sorry, okay?" said Ron. "I didn't mean to-"
"Forget it," said Harry. "I'm sorry, too. Shit. I'm a mess. Reading these bloody books, trying to be 'cool' or something. I'm pathetic."
"You're not," said Ron firmly. "And those books are damn valuable, if you ask me." He grinned. "Taught me most everything I know."
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's great, Ron. But you have a girlfriend, remember? I don't."
"Then why bother reading-"
"Because," Harry said heavily. He might as well come clean about it now. "Cho wrote me, okay? I know, I know," he added quickly, seeing Ron's expression go sour and his mouth open to say something.
"She wrote me last week and told me she's coming into town for her holiday," Harry explained. "She wants to get together and, in her words, start things up again."
Ron shook his head. "Harry, that girl is bad news and you know it," he said. "You and her couldn't even get along for two minutes without fighting."
"So?" said Harry defiantly. "I seem to recall you and Hermione having a row every ten minutes before you finally-"
"That was different," said Ron firmly. "We both liked each other at the time but were too stupid and stubborn to admit it. You and Cho-it just didn't work."
"Ron, I was fifteen," Harry protested. "I mean, not that I'm much better with girls now, of course, but I think I've grown up just a BIT since then. And...and I really like Cho, all right. I always have. I hate that things ended so badly between us. This is a second chance for us, you know? Neither of us has any more baggage hanging over us. I mean, it just might work this time."
Ron looked at Harry for a long moment. "I dunno, mate," he said at last. "I don't trust her. I mean, she played with your mind how many times, Harry?"
"It wasn't all her fault," said Harry stubbornly. "I was a mess, the timing was always bad."
"Yeah, well, maybe that's some higher power trying to tell you something," said Ron. "Maybe it's just not meant to happen between you two."
"I have to try," said Harry. "Okay? I have to give it a chance. I mean, we're both finally free, we're older. I have to try. I'm crazy about her."
Ron sighed and looked down. "All right, mate," he said. "You'll do what you want. But just be careful, okay?"
Harry nodded.
"Don't bother reading the later chapters of that," said Ron, pointing to the Kama Sutra. "Hermione and me tried one of those inverted positions. I can safely say it's not only damn near impossible but it's also damn uncomfortable."
"Uh, Ron, I REALLY didn't want to know that," said Harry, feeling a grin come over his face, relieved that Ron wasn't angry with him for his outburst.
"Hey, I'm just passing along some friendly advice," said Ron, holding up his hands and grinning back. "The Tantric stuff, though-that's excellent. Definitely read up on that. Since I've been doing that breathing stuff, I'm able to go at it for five hours straight-"
"GET OUT!" Harry yelled, laughing and throwing a pillow at Ron's head.
