There Had BETTER be an Explanation for this…
"HARRY POTTER, WHEN WILL YOU GET A BLOODY CLUE?!" Ginny spun on her heel and stormed up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Harry froze for a second, and then ran after her.
"Ginny! Wait! I didn't mean--"
The minute he set foot on the stairs, they turned into a giant stone slide. He had forgotten about those god-awful death-traps.
Ginny screamed as she slid down on her stomach.
Before Harry could think to move, he somehow found himself knocked down on his back with Ginny in a very compromising position.
Ginny had settled herself nicely straddling his torso.
Ginny's skirt was completely rolled up, exposing her knickers. His hair was being more unruly than usual, giving Harry a devilishly sexy look about him.
Both of their eyes went wide.
Both of their faces went impossibly red.
Both of their lips were drawing closer to each other by an invisible force…
Soon, Ginny couldn't even remember anymore why she was so mad at him.
The Slytherin Sex God?
How am I going to pull this off?!? Ginny thought desperately as she strode through the dark corridor under the Invisibility cloak.
The night had started off as a normal, Gryffindor Girls Night. Painting each others' nails, gossiping, flipping through Witch Weekly, giggling. Until Lavender suggested the inevitable game—
Truth or Dare.
Ginny was now on a rather daring quest to find the answer to the question on everybody's minds—
Draco Malfoy: Boxers or Briefs?
Hermione had "borrowed" the cloak, and then Ginny was pushed out of the common room before she could object.
How can I get into the Slytherin dorms without a password, anyway? AND get proof that I was there?!?
This turning out to be quite literally impossible.
Until Fate decided to be cruel and full of irony.
Guess who else just HAPPENED to be out for a midnight stroll?
In white cotton boxers with little red hearts on them that actually lit up?
They were just so MANLY, absolutely REEKING of Slytherin Sex God-iness.
Ginny smirked.