Chapter Seven: How to Undress

"Harry, are you sure you're--"

"I'm fine," said Harry stiffly, trying to squelch his annoyance at Ginny for asking him this question a fifth time. They had Apparated out of the Quidditch stadium and into Diagon Alley.

He looked at Ginny as they stood outside her flat, and seeing her face made him feel like a world-class heel. She was concerned for him, and he was being rude to her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't expect to see--"

"I know," said Ginny softly. She smiled sadly at him and put a hand on his cheek. "You're going to be all right, you know."

Harry looked down at her and smiled back. "I know," he said, not feeling like he was going to be all right at all. "Are we--still on? For Wednesday?"

"Sure," said Ginny. "But I'll have to come to your place. Hermione's cooking Ron dinner here."

"Hermione cooks?"

"Not really, which is why I don't want to be here when she starts destroying the kitchen," said Ginny, giggling.

"All right then," said Harry, and he pulled Ginny into a hug, grateful that there was one girl on the planet who treated him like a human being, who didn't mess with his head or break his heart. "See you soon."

She pulled out of the hug and smiled. "Read up on those books," she said, smiling wryly. "I might quiz you."

Harry blushed. "That sounds wicked," he said, grinning wider. "Lots more fun than school quizzes."

Ginny laughed. "G'night, Harry."

"G'night," he said, and he kissed her lightly on the cheek. She turned to enter her flat and was halfway through the door when he stopped her.

"Ginny?" he said. "Thanks."

"You bet," she said, smiling one last sad smile before entering her flat and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days, Harry devoted to reading the two books Ginny had given him. His mind was filled with very vivid ideas of just what Ginny might quiz him on, but the reading itself proved to be rather more boring than Harry expected.

The information was certainly useful--the Kama Sutra alone offered a hundred different ways to bring pleasure to a woman (most of which Harry didn't think he'd be able to do without losing it). But after reading two hundred pages of stuff about sex he began to lose interest just a bit. Even the pictures--most of them rather graphic--struck Harry as humorous, not erotic.

Perhaps I'm just an immature git, he thought.

One thing he did practice was breathing. The idea that he could control himself simply by breathing filled Harry with hope, especially in light of the rather successful lesson he and Ginny had had last week. He found himself meditating several times a day, and he was amazed that it really did seem to calm him down and sharpen his mental focus.

On Wednesday morning Harry awoke early to meditate again, when he heard a soft flutter of wings.

Hedwig soared through his open window.

"Hey, girl," he said, getting out of bed and crossing to her. "What have you got for me?"

A letter, Harry saw. He took them from Hedwig's beak and stroked her wing gently. She nipped his finger affectionately and then fluttered over to her open cage, where she settled down for a good long sleep.

A letter, thought Harry. Who'd be writing to him? He looked at the first letter. It was from Cho. Harry smiled as he tore open the letter.

Dear Harry,

Can you believe I'll be in London in two weeks? I can't wait! I heard
about
Puddlemere United winning--that's amazing. I hate to admit, but that
Weasley girl is probably the best player I've heard of in a while. Of
course, playing against her was never as much fun as playing against
YOU. You always did look wonderful on a broom. Maybe you and I could
have a fly on our brooms, for old time's sake.

In the meantime I'm in Cairo. We have a day off between assignments. I
can't wait to get the hell out of here. This desert air is murder on my
complexion--you wouldn't believe how fast I go through moisturiser! At
the very least, I have a good tan, which you'll get to see every inch of, I
promise. I probably won't get another chance to write before I make my
appearance, so please just meet me at Heathrow. My flight gets in at four
o'clock, two weeks from this Friday. See you soon!

Love,

Cho

Harry read the letter again and shifted in his chair. Images of Cho's tan filled his mind and inspired all sorts of naughty thoughts. He couldn't wait to see her. All of her. This time he'd know what to do. He wouldn't lose himself just because she stood naked in front of him, with her gorgeous curves and sparkling hazel eyes her long, brilliant red hair flowing down her back--

Harry blinked. Black hair. Cho had black hair, not red. Cho's eyes were dark brown, not hazel.

"Stupid git," Harry muttered to himself, but then again, why wouldn't he be thinking of Ginny? He WAS getting sex lessons from her, wasn't he? Perfectly natural, then, for him to be thinking naughty thoughts about Ginny. Ginny's just as lovely as Cho, and I'm a bloke, aren't I? Cho's the one I want, but if I happen to think of Ginny from time to time, well, that's to be expected.

He read Cho's letter a third time, and noticed only then Cho's remark about Ginny. "That Weasley girl?" Harry thought, feeling just a little disgruntled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi."

Ginny was standing in the doorway, framed by the lamplight. She wore a very lovely, very feminine button down blouse, jeans, and sandals that showed off painted toes.

"Come in," said Harry, and as she passed by him he caught the scent of gardenias again.

"You cleaned up the place," said Ginny, her eyes scanning the living room.

"Uh, yeah," said Harry. It had only taken him all day to do it, and the entire time he wondered how the hell he and Ron had managed to let their flat turn into such a pigsty. "I cleaned my room, too," Harry added. "Uh, shall we--go up?"

"All right."

She started up the stairs, affording Harry a perfect view of her delightful backside. He clenched his fists and held them firmly at his sides to keep from groping her right there on the stairs.

She stepped aside as he opened the door to his room.

"Candles," she said appreciatively, as she entered. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well," said Harry, blushing. "I like how you look in candlelight."

"Oh," said Ginny. She blushed and looked down, a shy smile on her lips. She looked back up at him, and for a moment they said nothing.

"So," said Ginny abruptly, tearing her eyes away from Harry's, "should we, uh, get started?"

"Yeah," said Harry at once, already feeling his trousers pinch at him as he imagined Ginny stripped down to her knickers again. Or less.

"Have you been working on that breathing stuff?" Ginny asked, as she set down her handbag.

"Yeah," said Harry. "It helps, at least, I think it does."

"Good," she said. Another awkward silence as their eyes met again.

"So, uh, what's on the agenda tonight?" Harry asked.

"Oh!" said Ginny. "Right. Well, undressing."

"Un-undressing?" Harry swallowed.

"You know," said Ginny, smiling, "how to undress a woman properly."

Harry felt a rush of blood between his legs. Perhaps he needed to start wearing looser-fitting jeans.

"Uh," said Harry nervously, "there's a 'proper' way to undress a--a woman?"

"Naturally," said Ginny lightly, smiling at him and tilting her head. "A way that shows your partner you know what you're doing."

"Right," said Harry, laughing nervously.

Ginny took several steps toward him; he was frozen in place. She came to a stop only about a foot away from him. He could smell the peppermint on her breath.

"So, undress me," she said simply.

Harry felt his knees turn to water.

"I've never--I mean, uh, well, it's always been the girl--"

"No time like the present to learn," said Ginny lightly. "Now, just take a deep breath, and start taking off my clothes."

Harry closed his eyes, clenched his fists and looked into Ginny's eyes, which flickered and sparkled in the candlelight. He wasn't sure just what made him do it, but as he reached for her he didn't reach for the buttons of her blouse. He instead put his hands on either side of her face, leaned down and kissed her slowly, softly.

For a brief instant he felt her spine stiffen, but then she leaned into the kiss, opening her mouth and brushing her tongue against his. The kiss deepened and Harry heard a soft sigh in Ginny's throat. She started to reach up and put her hands in his hair, but he broke the kiss and lowered his hands, sliding them from her shoulders to the bodice of her blouse.

"What was that for?" she asked, her eyes glazed, her mouth red.

"Dunno," Harry breathed, as his fingers began to fumble with the top button of her blouse. "Seemed like the right thing to do."

"You have good instincts," said Ginny, smiling in a dreamy, sexy way. Harry managed to get the first button undone without even watching what he was doing. He moved lower, to the second button, which rested in the valley between her breasts.

"Not bad," said Ginny, as he released the second button and moved down to the third.

"Not too slow?" Harry asked, releasing the third button from its loop and moving down to the fourth.

"Slow is good," said Ginny, leaning into him just a little. He continued to unbutton her blouse, thinking briefly that it had a hell of a lot of buttons for something that was really quite small, but then he finished. The blouse hung open just a little, revealing a peek of white lace brassiere beneath.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but Harry silenced her by kissing her again in the same slow way he had previously. She gave a soft little moan and Harry felt himself straining against his trousers, hoping against hope that those sexy little sounds coming from her were real, not faked. He broke the kiss again and ran his right hand up her front, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her tummy and between her breasts.

"You're doing--really well," said Ginny, as Harry raised his other hand. He moved his hands just beneath the cotton of the blouse, brushing her shoulder blades with his palms, and he pushed the fabric of the blouse back, sliding it over her shoulders and dragging it slowly down her arms. The blouse dropped lightly to the floor.

Harry ran his hands back up her arms and brought them to rest on her neck, and kissed her a third time. This time his mouth moved to her jaw and down to her neck.

"Mmm, Harry," Ginny whispered, and she put her arms around him, pulling him close to her. He pulled back just a little, so that his forehead was touching hers; he could feel her breath mingling with his.

"How--how am I doing?" he asked. His whole body was on fire; his groin was throbbing. Her skin was like hot satin.

"Good," she murmured. "Really good. How do you feel?"

"Like I'm going to explode," Harry gasped.

"Breathe," she whispered, and she kissed him lightly. "Breathe."

But Harry couldn't breathe, because he was kissing her and burying his hands in her hair and she was pressed against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He kissed her neck again, a bit faster this time, and let his hands wander to her jean-covered bottom, then back up, then around. The feel of her breasts against him was making him go mad. He had to touch her there. He did, taking both breasts in his hands and feeling the weight of them through the thin lace of the brassiere.

"Take off my bra," Ginny whispered in his ear.

"Oh, thank god," Harry moaned. Ginny giggled.

He moved his hands from her breasts around her back and felt for the clasp of her bra. He found it and began to fumble with it. And fumble with it.

"Wait," he said, "I've almost got it."

Except that he didn't. He fumbled with the clasp for two full minutes.

"Dammit!" he said, feeling a bit desperate. "What's holding this thing together, anyway?"

Ginny's lips were pursed together; Harry saw that she was trying not to giggle.

"Don't laugh!" he said, still working the clasp of the bra and still not able to undo it.

"I'm not," she choked, biting her lip. "Honest."

"Shit," said Harry. "Where's my bloody wand?" Alohomora might work on that stupid thing, he thought.

"No wands," said Ginny. "You have to learn how to do this."

"Well, bloody hell!" said Harry, giving up. "How am I supposed to get that thing undone? It's like there's a padlock on it or something!"

"People do it all the time, Harry," said Ginny, smiling. "I take my bra off every night before I go to sleep."

"Well, bully for you," said Harry bitterly, fighting the urge to reach out and tear the stupid bra right off her.

"Try again."

Harry sighed. "Turn around, then."

"No," said Ginny. "You want to be able to do this with your arms around her."

"Her?"

"Cho."

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, his brain not working, his eyes still staring at Ginny's breasts, the nipples of which were just visible through the white lace.

"Better yet, you want to be able to unfasten it one-handed," Ginny went on. "But two hands are fine for now. And by the way, it's a hook-and-eye closure. Same as our school robes, but smaller."

"Oh," said Harry. "Why didn't you say that before?"

"I wanted to see if you could figure it out," said Ginny, grinning.

"You--you--are you DETERMINED to drive me out of my mind?" demanded Harry, his eyes darting from her face to her breasts and back again.

Ginny laughed--a happy, joyous laugh that filled Harry with a kind of warmth that had nothing to do with what was going on in his trousers. She should laugh more often, he thought. Her laugh is like music. And suddenly he wanted to kiss her again, so he did.

The kiss caught her by surprise but very quickly she was kissing him back. His lips moved to her earlobe and he nibbled the skin there, causing her to gasp.

"Try again," she whispered, her hands tangled in his hair.

Harry kissed her mouth again, tasting peppermint on her tongue, and his hands moved to the clasp of her bra again.

Hook-and-eye, he thought, just like our school robes. His fingers moved over the lump of the clasp and he found it. Using both hands, he unhooked the bra. She gasped again.

"Good," she breathed. She stepped back from him, the bra hanging loosely on her shoulders, covering her. Harry swallowed and reached for the straps of her bra. He slid the straps from her shoulders. Lower and lower they went. The lace slid slowly down, and then the bra was on the floor.

Harry didn't notice. He was too busy staring at Ginny, who was so lovely something seemed to catch in his throat. It wasn't just her breasts, though, he realized. It was everything. The slope of her collarbone, the dip at the base of her throat, the way her small, round breasts seemed to be just perfect for the rest of her.

"What?" she asked, looking suddenly very shy.

"You're beautiful," said Harry, looking into her eyes.

Ginny smiled shyly and blushed again. "Thanks," she murmured.

"I--I didn't really notice," said Harry, feeling a bit ashamed. "Before, I mean."

"I don't--I don't think I gave you much of a chance to notice," said Ginny, smiling. "Things were a bit frantic that night."

"Right," said Harry, now blushing himself and looking down. Of course what Ginny really meant was that Harry was so randy that night that he had lost himself in a matter of minutes and then, perfectly fulfilling the stereotype of the selfish male, had fallen asleep almost immediately afterward. "Sorry," he said, feeling stupid.

"Don't be," said Ginny, taking a step toward him. "That's--that's why we're here now. So you know how it feels--to go slow."

He looked up at her again and let his eyes drink her in. "I like slow," he said, grinning a bit wickedly.

"You're not done yet, you know," said Ginny, smirking. "My bottom half still has clothes on it."

Harry felt the grin on his lips widen. "I feel like I'm opening a Christmas present," he said. "Only I can't say I've ever gotten such a good Christmas present."

"Harry, if you don't get started we'll BE here until Christmas," said Ginny, putting her hands on her hips.

"I thought you liked me to go slow," Harry countered, pulling her close to him.

"I do, but there's slow and there's SLOW--"

"Right," said Harry, kissing her. His hands roamed of their own accord, over her back, her shoulders, finding her bare breasts. He heard a moan escape his throat. They felt incredible in his hands, and he began to stroke them, very softly.

"God, Harry," Ginny moaned, throwing her head back. His mouth moved from her mouth, to her neck, to her shoulder. He felt like he could devour her. She tasted delicious--like honey. He felt her arms around his neck and his mouth was drifting lower.

"Ginny," he groaned, putting his arms around her and lifting her. He was kneeling just slightly, his thighs burning from the effort, but then his mouth moved over her breasts, tasting each one in turn. He moaned again, louder, and she gasped. His hands found her bottom again. She was wearing entirely too many clothes. He had to get them off her.

His mouth moved away from her breasts and back up over her shoulder, along her neck, until he crushed his lips against hers.

"Take them off," she whispered against his mouth.

But his hands were already at the buttons of her jeans, opening them.

"Easy," she whispered, as he gripped the waistband of her jeans and gave them a rough tug.

"Right," he choked. His hands moved beneath her jeans and found her lace- covered bottom. He stroked her there and the jeans began to slide down her hips, lower, lower. Then they wouldn't go any lower. At least, not as long as he was in a liplock with her.

"Slide them off," Ginny murmured, breaking their kiss. Harry blinked. The room was spinning; he could hardly breathe. His trousers were bulging.

He knelt down and tugged slowly at her jeans, sliding them down her thighs, over her knees, until them came to rest in a crumpled pile at her ankles. She stepped lightly out of them and stepped back. Harry looked up.

She glowed in the candlelight. The only thing covering her now was a pair of white lace knickers.

"Oh, my god," Harry whispered.