A/n: Isn't this just the most special thing ever! Sorry if I'm just overly excited about the fact that we've gotten to chapter 6 on this, my very first fan fiction. I'd like to thank Jennifer for her encouraging ideas, Kara for staying up late with me as we would write, and my CDs for providing that oh so lovely mood setting music. Maybe I should have waited till the end to do this Oh and just so were clear and its not as if I'm creating f.f. Statutory rape, Ginny wasn't virgin when her and dean hooked up the second time. Not at hogwarts. I guess that's my bad for not explaining it more... oh well. If you feel like downloading weezer's butterfly to accompany this chapter (to just help with the mood_), feel free but don't feel obligated. On with the story? Yes, lets see... where were we? Oh, yes the morning after...
Some time ago, a very scrawny young man left his life behind him in the hopes of starting over. He threw the weight of the world off his tired shoulders and left wizards and left the magic world to fend for itself in terms of evil. The boy who lived was dead to him.
He disappeared into the shadows, abandoned his fortune, deserted his fame, and he cast aside his friends. Harry spent a month and a half wandering around England. Most of the time he had spent liquored-up and unconscious outside grimy bars. It took him a month more to sober up and realize that though he didn't want to be alive any more, he didn't want to kill himself. Harry packed up and began brushing his teeth again. He took his only possessions (which he loathed) and moved to London.
London was big, bright, loud and dominating. Its surly cityscape and historic vastness hovered over the civilians with passionate culture. Harry watched and observed the people walking down sidewalks in quick determination. Not one face stood out from any other. You were merely one star in a sky of bright lights, impossible to distinguish one from the next or the next. In short, it was perfect. Harry could sink into this new life without wizards, scary forests, beast hybrids, and unstoppable villains.
He got a job at a small bookshop only after 3 months of leaving Hogwarts. The shop was quiet and smelled of old pages. He liked the man that owned the shop. He had a fat-less face with sagging skin and tired yet wise eyes. The man reminded Harry of someone he once admired. Unfortunately, when the nightmares got worse, Harry stopped showing up for work. The venerable man had no choice but to fire poor harry.
Harry had money, wizard money, but he felt the same toward it as his invisibility cloak and wand, it was tainted. Not having a job left Harry devastated. Still depressed, jobless, and very much alone, he walked down the streets late at night. He began smoking regularly and drinking more than occasionally. Some nights he would become so desperate, that he would go out looking for "extra attention".
At first he would go to bars and pick up cheap women by sleazy lines and misleading misrepresentation. Harry had never been good with women back at Hogwarts. When he would go somewhere with the goal of seducing women, he would always seem to change. He could manipulate himself and others to think he was important and worth wile. When attempts failed, he would go out and pay for his relief in forms of dishonor and corrupted penury in short skirts.
In their services and his submission to velleity, Harry would plunge deeper and deeper, desperately searching for some form of contact. He wanted forgiveness most of all. In his climax he found temporary relief. Sometimes, they would ask for a phone number or some form of a lasting relationship the next day. He would not give them what they wanted. Harry knew that even if he did have a phone and wanted some lasting relationship, that in the end it would not be good for this woman. He was being "honorable" in hurting them.
Eventually, Harry got a job at the Starbucks about a block away from him after passing a help wanted sign. The store was just closing, and though he didn't want to, he needed to do something with his days once more. He needed to keep busy. To his surprise, he got the job and drowned himself in his work once more. Life resumed or at least as much as life could resume.
Harry awoke in the middle of the night after a nightmare. He found himself lying next to a young lady that he vaguely remembered from the night before. In the dull lights of the city he could stare at her face with a peculiar fascination. You couldn't really call her beautiful with her awkward freckles and bitten fingernails. However, she had this sort of mazy attraction which Harry could not explain. A stripling with red hair and soft cheeks lay next to him. He put his head beside hers, feeling satisfied. He did not love her, but right now there was an understandable comfort aching inside him. He drifted off into sleep once more expecting nightmares, but finding none. In his sleep he found blissful sanctuary. In his sleep he rested dreamless.
Ginny fell to the floor with a startling thud. Her legs were stiff and her arms dotted with Goosebumps. After that fall her hip began to feel quite sore as well. Her eyes panned the room searching for a sign of recognition. At first her surroundings were unfamiliar. They were unfamiliar until she distinguished the boy with green eyes as her bedmate. She felt as if her body was just thrown against the dark walls behind her. What had she done? If only she could have stopped herself.
"Dean!," she whispered to herself with guilty realization.
She lay her head down on the cold tile for a moment and wondered what she would do to solve this problem. She wasn't even thinking about the green-eyed boy who lay above her on the twin bed they shared the night before. She thought about telling him, telling him of how she lied to him and cheated on him. Though in an instant she had decided she simply would not let him know. What did it matter if he knew or not? It was not going to happen again. She had abrogated her problems there on the fourth floor of this small apartment building.
She stood up and looked out the window. The starless London sky was still dark. The city seamed to be at rest with the exception of the few cars still wandering the streets in the post midnight or pre morning routine. In the silence, her heart began beating and her eyes became warm with shame. She dusted those feelings off and grew tough in that dark hole. Ginny felt around and picked up articles of clothing and various items.
Before she closed the door soundlessly, she took one look at the boy who lay sleeping, the boy that lived. She had been avoiding even looking at him as she prepared to abandon him. He now lay still, naked and silent on the rectangular cradle. In a way she felt bad for him. But now it wasn't any matter of hers. Ginny had to worry about covering her own ass now as opposed to Harry's very exposed one.
Her aching body made it back to her flat with little difficulty other than her conscious. There was an owl waiting by her window to supply her with a letter. Plucking the parchment from the owl, it read: "I'm coming over since we couldn't do something last night. See you soon. Love, Dean". Nervous sweat washed over her body as the doorbell rang. All she had time for was to throw her hair up in a bun and rush to the door.
Dean stepped inside and kissed her quite plainly on the lips. She pulled away unnoticeably. He cluelessly beamed. She faked a smile.
"D'you sleep well" He said
"Alright" She said. She was littered with shameful guilt. She reeked with its deadly stench.
"I brought waffles," He joked, carrying a box of frozen waffles.
Laughing she muttered, "That's great. I love them." She could smell her own evil! Her skin her mouth her thighs, all dripping with that convictable scent.
"So how was your night?"
"My night?" This sinful presence hovered around her every time she looked at Deans face. His beautifully unknowing face was plain with love. Ginny felt the garbage of her conscience decomposing her filthy skin. She was bad because at this moment, standing there in her doorway with frozen waffles, was loving goodness.
"Yes, your night"
"Well-" She paused, dissimulated. What would she tell this man she loved so much. How could she lie. She swallowed hard as if trying to push away this guilt and self hatred. She thought about coming clean. She was scared. She was afraid to leave the sheltered comfort of her heated apartment, framed photographs and loving boyfriend. She lied. "I just went to bed. I was exhausted." On some level this was true. She simply left out who she had gone to bed with and what kind of exhaustion.
"Alright. What would you say to a little semi frozen cuisine and, well, morning recreation." With that he pulled her hips toward his and began to kiss her. His hands began to climb up to her shirt and fumble with buttons. It was the same shirt she had been removing the night before with Harry.
Before he could progress she pushed him back and snapped "N-No. Not today"
"Oh," he said, obviously disappointed. "I just thought that. . . never mind. I'll work my magic on these babies then." With that he picked up the frozen waffles. Their condensation pressing lightly against the plastic bag.
"Dean I'm sorry I just-"
"Don't worry about it"
"No, I didn't mean"
"It's fine," He said, still hurt.
Before she could say anything else to apologize for her questionable behavior he was gone. He had run off to the kitchen. Ginny fell back onto the wall with a hard thud. Her stench of sin had not faded, but rather grown rapidly. How could she have done this? At the same time she was thinking this, she also began to remember how satisfying that night had been. A sexual hunger within her had not been appeased. She just wouldn't allow herself to be aware of it. She would only allow this deep pain and self-hatred to dwell for now.
Across town Harry was behind a counter in a green apron making a frapuchinno. As he blended and added whipped cream he considered the consequences of his actions last night. After careful consideration, he realized he wasn't sorry. He did wonder. When he woke up and she was gone a part of him was happy that it was over, no strings attached. However, now it was over and normal life and repressing could resume. Or could it, he wondered as he headed outside for a cigarette in the sub-zero air of the approaching winter.
Some time ago, a very scrawny young man left his life behind him in the hopes of starting over. He threw the weight of the world off his tired shoulders and left wizards and left the magic world to fend for itself in terms of evil. The boy who lived was dead to him.
He disappeared into the shadows, abandoned his fortune, deserted his fame, and he cast aside his friends. Harry spent a month and a half wandering around England. Most of the time he had spent liquored-up and unconscious outside grimy bars. It took him a month more to sober up and realize that though he didn't want to be alive any more, he didn't want to kill himself. Harry packed up and began brushing his teeth again. He took his only possessions (which he loathed) and moved to London.
London was big, bright, loud and dominating. Its surly cityscape and historic vastness hovered over the civilians with passionate culture. Harry watched and observed the people walking down sidewalks in quick determination. Not one face stood out from any other. You were merely one star in a sky of bright lights, impossible to distinguish one from the next or the next. In short, it was perfect. Harry could sink into this new life without wizards, scary forests, beast hybrids, and unstoppable villains.
He got a job at a small bookshop only after 3 months of leaving Hogwarts. The shop was quiet and smelled of old pages. He liked the man that owned the shop. He had a fat-less face with sagging skin and tired yet wise eyes. The man reminded Harry of someone he once admired. Unfortunately, when the nightmares got worse, Harry stopped showing up for work. The venerable man had no choice but to fire poor harry.
Harry had money, wizard money, but he felt the same toward it as his invisibility cloak and wand, it was tainted. Not having a job left Harry devastated. Still depressed, jobless, and very much alone, he walked down the streets late at night. He began smoking regularly and drinking more than occasionally. Some nights he would become so desperate, that he would go out looking for "extra attention".
At first he would go to bars and pick up cheap women by sleazy lines and misleading misrepresentation. Harry had never been good with women back at Hogwarts. When he would go somewhere with the goal of seducing women, he would always seem to change. He could manipulate himself and others to think he was important and worth wile. When attempts failed, he would go out and pay for his relief in forms of dishonor and corrupted penury in short skirts.
In their services and his submission to velleity, Harry would plunge deeper and deeper, desperately searching for some form of contact. He wanted forgiveness most of all. In his climax he found temporary relief. Sometimes, they would ask for a phone number or some form of a lasting relationship the next day. He would not give them what they wanted. Harry knew that even if he did have a phone and wanted some lasting relationship, that in the end it would not be good for this woman. He was being "honorable" in hurting them.
Eventually, Harry got a job at the Starbucks about a block away from him after passing a help wanted sign. The store was just closing, and though he didn't want to, he needed to do something with his days once more. He needed to keep busy. To his surprise, he got the job and drowned himself in his work once more. Life resumed or at least as much as life could resume.
Harry awoke in the middle of the night after a nightmare. He found himself lying next to a young lady that he vaguely remembered from the night before. In the dull lights of the city he could stare at her face with a peculiar fascination. You couldn't really call her beautiful with her awkward freckles and bitten fingernails. However, she had this sort of mazy attraction which Harry could not explain. A stripling with red hair and soft cheeks lay next to him. He put his head beside hers, feeling satisfied. He did not love her, but right now there was an understandable comfort aching inside him. He drifted off into sleep once more expecting nightmares, but finding none. In his sleep he found blissful sanctuary. In his sleep he rested dreamless.
Ginny fell to the floor with a startling thud. Her legs were stiff and her arms dotted with Goosebumps. After that fall her hip began to feel quite sore as well. Her eyes panned the room searching for a sign of recognition. At first her surroundings were unfamiliar. They were unfamiliar until she distinguished the boy with green eyes as her bedmate. She felt as if her body was just thrown against the dark walls behind her. What had she done? If only she could have stopped herself.
"Dean!," she whispered to herself with guilty realization.
She lay her head down on the cold tile for a moment and wondered what she would do to solve this problem. She wasn't even thinking about the green-eyed boy who lay above her on the twin bed they shared the night before. She thought about telling him, telling him of how she lied to him and cheated on him. Though in an instant she had decided she simply would not let him know. What did it matter if he knew or not? It was not going to happen again. She had abrogated her problems there on the fourth floor of this small apartment building.
She stood up and looked out the window. The starless London sky was still dark. The city seamed to be at rest with the exception of the few cars still wandering the streets in the post midnight or pre morning routine. In the silence, her heart began beating and her eyes became warm with shame. She dusted those feelings off and grew tough in that dark hole. Ginny felt around and picked up articles of clothing and various items.
Before she closed the door soundlessly, she took one look at the boy who lay sleeping, the boy that lived. She had been avoiding even looking at him as she prepared to abandon him. He now lay still, naked and silent on the rectangular cradle. In a way she felt bad for him. But now it wasn't any matter of hers. Ginny had to worry about covering her own ass now as opposed to Harry's very exposed one.
Her aching body made it back to her flat with little difficulty other than her conscious. There was an owl waiting by her window to supply her with a letter. Plucking the parchment from the owl, it read: "I'm coming over since we couldn't do something last night. See you soon. Love, Dean". Nervous sweat washed over her body as the doorbell rang. All she had time for was to throw her hair up in a bun and rush to the door.
Dean stepped inside and kissed her quite plainly on the lips. She pulled away unnoticeably. He cluelessly beamed. She faked a smile.
"D'you sleep well" He said
"Alright" She said. She was littered with shameful guilt. She reeked with its deadly stench.
"I brought waffles," He joked, carrying a box of frozen waffles.
Laughing she muttered, "That's great. I love them." She could smell her own evil! Her skin her mouth her thighs, all dripping with that convictable scent.
"So how was your night?"
"My night?" This sinful presence hovered around her every time she looked at Deans face. His beautifully unknowing face was plain with love. Ginny felt the garbage of her conscience decomposing her filthy skin. She was bad because at this moment, standing there in her doorway with frozen waffles, was loving goodness.
"Yes, your night"
"Well-" She paused, dissimulated. What would she tell this man she loved so much. How could she lie. She swallowed hard as if trying to push away this guilt and self hatred. She thought about coming clean. She was scared. She was afraid to leave the sheltered comfort of her heated apartment, framed photographs and loving boyfriend. She lied. "I just went to bed. I was exhausted." On some level this was true. She simply left out who she had gone to bed with and what kind of exhaustion.
"Alright. What would you say to a little semi frozen cuisine and, well, morning recreation." With that he pulled her hips toward his and began to kiss her. His hands began to climb up to her shirt and fumble with buttons. It was the same shirt she had been removing the night before with Harry.
Before he could progress she pushed him back and snapped "N-No. Not today"
"Oh," he said, obviously disappointed. "I just thought that. . . never mind. I'll work my magic on these babies then." With that he picked up the frozen waffles. Their condensation pressing lightly against the plastic bag.
"Dean I'm sorry I just-"
"Don't worry about it"
"No, I didn't mean"
"It's fine," He said, still hurt.
Before she could say anything else to apologize for her questionable behavior he was gone. He had run off to the kitchen. Ginny fell back onto the wall with a hard thud. Her stench of sin had not faded, but rather grown rapidly. How could she have done this? At the same time she was thinking this, she also began to remember how satisfying that night had been. A sexual hunger within her had not been appeased. She just wouldn't allow herself to be aware of it. She would only allow this deep pain and self-hatred to dwell for now.
Across town Harry was behind a counter in a green apron making a frapuchinno. As he blended and added whipped cream he considered the consequences of his actions last night. After careful consideration, he realized he wasn't sorry. He did wonder. When he woke up and she was gone a part of him was happy that it was over, no strings attached. However, now it was over and normal life and repressing could resume. Or could it, he wondered as he headed outside for a cigarette in the sub-zero air of the approaching winter.