Disclaimer:

The Characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this site, and is for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Notes:

This is an Alternate Universe Story in the Harry Potter Series in that it branches off from the series before the final Chapter of The Order of Phoenix. Also, the ages of Charlie and Bill Weasley were conceived prior to the announcement by JKR. For the purposes of this story they are Twenty-eight and Thirty, respectively.

This version has been modified from the original NC-17 version, housed at Specifically, explicatives have been modified and sexual situations made less explicit. Any large changes will be pointed out in author's notes. Thank you and enjoy.

Of Hearts and Heroes

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ginny was in a carriage, snuggled into a warm body, with a heavy masculine arm around her shoulders. The sway and movement of the carriage felt peculiar. She glanced out the window. Oh, they were flying. That explained it.

The arm around her pulled her closer and she felt warm; warm and loved…but there was an tension that radiated from the man who held her close. Helana looked up into the uneasy eyes of her husband.

Wow...Harry's in there. Ginny wanted to call out to him, to somehow communicate, but as hard as she willed it she could not make Helana speak or move. Ginny was trapped inside of her.

Finally she spoke. "You're worried," she stated and Ginny was disappointed that they weren't the words she wanted…the word actually. She continued to scream, 'Harry' in her head.

Alexi shook his head. "I'm just disappointed. I wanted more time alone with you." He gave her a look that caused her to feel warm and tingly….oh god, Harry's in there.

"Yes, but you're worried," Helana corrected and Alex smiled in a tender guilty way. "Why?" she asked.

He swallowed, his eyes fixated out of the window. "I don't like your sister. I don't want you around her."

Helana looked away from him. Ginny felt that Helana didn't like her either…she was afraid of her. "She's family, Alex," she said softly.

"Her husband's death is suspicious."

"He wasn't a nice person."

"Neither is your sister."

Helana looked at him, her fear intensifying. "Are you saying that you think Hilda is responsible for his death?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm saying I don't like you around her and…." He smiled down at her sweetly in what was an obvious attempt to change the subject. "…I would prefer to spend the time alone with you."

He leaned toward her and Ginny felt a rush of panic and excitement. Harry was going to kiss her. Harry was going to kiss her.

But it wasn't Harry she reminded herself, mustn't think that it was…

Then Helana's eyes fluttered shut and Alex's large hand cupped her head. When his lips slide across hers, it felt like Harry. Felt like Harry's tongue stroking her lips and begging entrance, making her feel warm and alive, loved and cherished.

He pulled away without deepening the kiss further. Helana whimpered and opened her eyes.

It wasn't Harry

Ginny felt cheated. Cheated out of a first kiss with Harry that may or may not have ever happen. Out of a kiss where she knew her emotions were hers and the man kissing her wanted to kiss her. Ginny wanted to go away and hide; to feel miserable, but this woman's annoyingly pleasant feelings kept getting in the way.

Alex was coming in for another kiss and Ginny didn't want it, but Helana did and she parted her lips eagerly.

If Ginny was feeling forced, how must it feel for Harry? He didn't even want to kiss her. It must feel like rape to him.

Ginny held onto that horrible thought for as long as she could, trying as hard as she could to separate herself from Helana, but the love and desire the woman was feeling were overwhelming. It didn't help that Ginny did want to be kissing Harry.

His tongue was stroking hers and Helana was responding in a passionate way, tangling their tongues together. This body knew this man, knew what to do. She must have had a hell of a lot of practice in the last month.

Alex's hands were wandering, making Ginny desperate for him to both stop and keep going. She was relieved beyond measure when the carriage jerked and Alex pulled away with a sigh. Ginny searched desperately for Harry in his eyes and thought she saw him somewhere in there.

He rested his forehead against hers, asking, "Are you sure about this?"

Helana wasn't sure, Ginny could tell. Actually, Helana wasn't sure of anything. She was teaming with different emotions. It was difficult to sort out and bloody annoying, actually.

Alex helped her out and Ginny noted that it had been a pair of jet black Hippogriffs pulling the carriage. She didn't have time to ponder this as they walked resolutely toward the castle, her hand in the crook of her husband's arm.

As they approached, Ginny felt waves of emotion overcome her… grief… anger…hatred. The closer she came to the castle the more intense it became. Ginny didn't understand why she was feeling this way, but it was choking her.

When she stepped through the front gates, a particularly harsh wave hit her and she stumbled. Harry…Alexi was there with an arm around her waist to keep her upright. He looked at her with concern and a new wave of fear hit her, but this time she also felt love.

"I'm fine," Helana reassured with a smile.

Fine? Fine! They were not fine. For whatever reason they were drowning in despair and terror…and it made no sense.

A house elf came up to them and Alex chose to direct his frustration at the poor creature. "Take us to her father. Now!" he snapped.

Ginny barely noticed where they were going as Alex dragged her beside him. The elf led them through the castle. Helana was concentrating on her breathing, which Ginny found helpful.

At the top of a winding staircase was a door where the elf stopped and bowed before opening it. Before the door opened, Ginny could hear screaming. "How dare you, Stephan!" Helana recognized her sister's screech.

"How dare I? I beg you Hilda; give me one reason to believe it was not my sister who caused the death of my best friend."

"He was my husband," she hissed and Stephan scoffed.

Alexi led Helana into the room, holding her firmly. She recognized her father who was smiling at her sadly. She felt confusion, concern, and despair. She looked upon the man…her brother and was over come with grief and rage. She tore her eyes away to look at her sister and felt…anger and cold determination.

Helana gasped as the absolute knowledge that her sister had poisoned her husband came over her. Her knees gave way. The room began to spin. Her vision disintegrated into a million dots and gave way to grey.

As the world faded into blackness, Ginny thought she heard Harry calling her name.

Harry felt Ginny collapse in his arms with rising panic. He knew it was just Helana, but somehow it felt like Ginny. Something really bad was happening. Really, really bad. Harry tried to call out to her as Alexi lifted her against him, murmuring, "Helana?"

No…no…Is Ginny ok?

This was all Harry's fault. Why had he shown her the watch? Why had he let it seduce him? Why had he needed to keep it a secret? Because he was a selfish git, that's why.

'Ginny!' he tried to call. Enough, he had to wake up. Wake up! He tried to force his eyes open with all his might. Wake up! Wake up!

His eyes snapped open and he saw the curtains of his bed. He heard Hermione let out a soft moan from the bed next to him. Were they ever going to remember the Imperturbable?

It didn't matter. Harry scrambled out of bed and quickly made his way to Ginny's room. If something happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. If he hadn't been so curious, if he hadn't wanted to feel that sensation again, if he hadn't been so weak…

Harry entered the room without knocking. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Ginny sitting up. She was hugging her knees to her chest. When she turned he saw that tears drenched her face.

His guilt was a fiery pit in his stomach. He approached her, instinctively sitting beside her and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned into him, sniffling, but didn't loosen her grip on her knees.

"It was awful, Harry."

He swallowed. He was such a piece of shite. Harry stroked her long, smooth hair without thinking. "Are you all right? When you went down, I… you scared me."

"I'm fine, I think. I don't know."

He felt her tears against his chest and rocked her. It just felt like the right thing to do.

"I think she killed him, Harry. I mean I'm sure she did," Ginny whispered into his shirt.

It took him a moment to comprehend. "Hilda and her husband? How do you know?" Harry wasn't sure why he was asking. He should just bury the damn watch and be done with it.

Ginny pulled her head away and looked up at him. She looked so young and innocent in that moment, fragile. "Harry, I felt it."

He shook his head, wanting to understand, but not…

"When I looked at Hilda I felt this anger and…and ice and darkness, then I just knew she killed him. She felt evil, Harry."

Harry took a sharp breath and blew it out slowly. "And you felt this?"

"I felt a lot of things that it didn't make sense for Helana to feel….despair, fear, rage. It was overwhelming in that castle."

"Did it feel like it was coming from other people?"

She shook her head. "I dunno…it felt…" Ginny searched his face. "Do you think Helana's an Empath?"

He couldn't look at her anymore. It hurt him. "Must be…shite, I should have told Adrianna. I'm so stupid."

Ginny pulled out of his grasp. "We agreed not to tell her. If you're stupid, then so am I."

Harry shook his head. "I was selfish….I wanted something that was just ours…that no one could touch and it hurt you…you almost…."

"I didn't almost anything," she snapped, wiping her cheeks roughly and sitting up straight. "It was a dream…I'm fine. I was just…still reacting to the other people's emotions. I'm fine now."

Harry knew what Ginny was doing. She was trying to convince him that she was strong. Make him believe that it wasn't his fault, but it was. "You could have been hurt. I knew better, after Riddle's Diary…"

He cut off at Ginny's sharp intake of breath. "This is nothing like the diary, Harry," she snapped, red faced, and looked away. But the lady had protested a tad too hastily. "It was my decision. I get to decide what I do, not you."

He watched her for a moment. "Well, given the new information, I think we should tell Adrianna. What do you think?"

Ginny looked away from him. "I agree. We'll tell her tomorrow. But this is because she's an Empath and it might have something to do with her…not because I think we should stop."

Harry's jaw dropped. She wanted to keep doing it. For some reason the knowledge filled him with elation. He didn't really want to stop, until the end the dream had been… pretty amazing. He thought about what it had been like to kiss Ginny…Helana. Alexi kissed Helana, he reminded himself, but no matter who was doing it, it had felt incredible.

He had been so afraid that she would feel violated, disgusted even. But if she wanted to do it again…. "Is that what you'd like, Ginny? To do it again?" Harry wished that he didn't sound so vulnerable.

Ginny set her jaw. "Do you?" she challenged.

Harry felt like it was a test. He hadn't studied. "I don't want you to get hurt, but yeah, I reckon I do."

"Then so do I," she said in a firm way that made him chuckle. Sometimes she was so like her mother. He looked around the room, suddenly uneasy.

"So, then…do you mind if I sleep in Hermione's bed for the rest of the night. Ron and Hermione forgot the Imperturbable again." And the dreams might come back. He wanted to be next to her if they did.

Ginny grimaced. "Ick, what's wrong with them? Of course you can stay here. Though I should warn you that the image that you just put into my head will most likely give me nightmares."

Harry chuckled gratefully and looked at her through his lashes. "Thanks, Gin."

"Any time," she said seriously.

Harry didn't sleep that much that might. Mostly he watched Ginny for signs of nightmares.

Hermione didn't know how long she lay there, awake, next to a sexy…wet… snoring Ron. It may have been hours.

It was a difficult paradox that she was trying to resolve. The one where she had somehow managed to be both a pathetic, naive little girl, complete with childlike body and a rampaging whore at the same time. Not an easy feat. Kudos to her.

But however she had managed it; it had been just the trick to send Ron into the complete coma he was currently in. He lay there, relaxed and peaceful, while her body practically twitched with energy. She was stiff from the restraint it took to not touch him.

How had she gotten here? Deliriously happy this afternoon, wallowing in self pity now. Lying in bed with the boy she was in love with. The boy who thought they were just Practicing. Practicing for what? Who was she anymore?

And the worst part….she wouldn't even care if only he'd wake up and touch her.

Hermione suddenly had to get out of that room. She scrambled to pull the curtains back and slip off into the dark. Just as her feet hit the ground she felt a hand close over her arm.

"Where ya goin', 'Mione?" Ron asked, his voice heavy from sleep.

She was caught! She panicked. Just tell him she was going to the loo…tell him… "I couldn't sleep."

There was an insistent tug on her arm. "I'll keep you company. Come back to bed." His voice was warm and thick, sending shivers down her spine.

Hermione let herself be pulled back to bed, knowing that she was weak and lacked self-respect. She just needed to be with him. She was unable to resist him as he pulled her into his warm embrace and stretched like a cat against her.

The throbbing, the energy, it was confusing her again. Hermione didn't know….oh, hell with it. She grabbed his head and yanked it down to hers. She kissed him with all the energy building up inside of her, all the frustration, and all the anger at him for not feeling the same.

Ron was slack with surprise and she took advantage, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and clawing at his shoulders. Hermione pushed him onto his back with a surge of strength; he went easily. She climbed above him and attacked him more vigorously. She slipped her hands over his chest and down to his waist. They moved under his shirt, having a desperate need to touch the skin that she had seen earlier that night.

The feel of it was more than she expected and she moaned against his mouth. She dug her nails into his flesh to punish him for making her act this way, making her feel like this. Ron allowed her to take her frustrations out on him, giving her the upper hand. His arms were only lightly resting on her back; he kissed her, but he stayed passive.

Hermione knew the exact moment when dominance slipped away from her. There was a violent surge through Ron's body as he suddenly engaged in the battle. His whole body seemed to wrap itself around hers and pull her painfully closer. His tongue and teeth fought hers. She dug her nails in as deep as they could go.

Ron growled, flipping her easily onto her back and pinning her beneath him. Grabbing her hands he yanked them over her head, trapping them there. Hermione bucked underneath him, twisting and turning to regain the upper hand, but all she succeeded in doing was increase the heat and throbbing in her body. She bit his lip in frustration.

He pulled away and stared at her with wide, wild eyes, his breaths rapid. "What the hell has gotten into you tonight, 'Mione?"

She seemed to have lost the power of speech because all she could do was growl and try to pull her arms free. He yanked them more firmly above her head and held them easily with one hand. The other ran back down her arm and shoulder, over her chin and cupped her cheek. Her eyes had long since rolled back into her head from the pleasure of it. She leaned into his hand, then angry at the weakness it wrought in her, she nipped at it.

He was half lying across her, one leg pinning hers. "Tell me what you want?" he breathed in her ear. "Do you want me to let you go?"

God, help her, she didn't. But she couldn't tell him that. Hermione squeezed her eyes and lips shut, feeling completely exposed.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Ron asked.

God yes. "Please." Once she started moaning it she couldn't seem to stop. It came out as a litany. "Please, please, please…"

His hand touched her neck, stroking her. "I don't know what you want. Tell me."

There was a desperate, pleading quality to his voice that seemed to pull the words from her. "Touch me," she said in a small, sobbing voice. "Like you did this afternoon." She was a slag, but it didn't matter. She was his.

Ron's breath hitched, but his hand moved, leaving a path of bliss across her throat and chest to cup her breast. "Like this?" His voice had lost all teasing. His question was unsure.

His touch wasn't enough. "Under, please, Ron, please." She couldn't bear look him in the eyes, so she concentrated on the sound of his breath speeding up. Concentrated on the feel of it as it puffed against her ear and cheek…and on his hand as it tentatively crept under her pajama shirt and traveled up.

He was going so damned slowly. Ron froze completely when he reached the under edge of her breast. She snarled with frustration. Wasn't begging enough? "Ron, please!"

Ron cupped her and she thought she'd die of the pleasure. He squeezed and she arched off the bed into him.

His other hand left her wrists, but she kept them there as if she was still restrained. She felt the air on her chest as he fully exposed her and heard his quick intake of breath. She squeezed her lids more tightly together so as to not see his disappointment.

Both hands were cupping her now, kneading her. It was too much. She listed back and forth. "Ron, please, please."

"Like this?' he asked as he caressed her. She nodded vigorously, desperate for him to not stop. Liquid warmth was flooding her lower body. It was too intense. She couldn't stand it any more. Hermione pulled his hand away. She looked up into his heated gaze and found she was drowning.

"Ron, what's happening to me?" she sobbed out, clutching his shoulders. She buried her head in his chest and soaked it with frustrated tears.

He laid her back, stiffly, but carefully. "Shhh, it's ok, it's ok," he told her in a frightened sort of voice, as he held her to him and stroked her back.

"Something's wrong with me," she told him and felt him shake his head against her.

"Nothing's wrong with you. Nothing at all. You're perfect. My 'Mione, shh." He kept the litany going and lulled her into a troubled sleep.

Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair. Well, more tense than usual. Mrs. Weasley was in quite a thither, as she bustled about getting ready to leave on holiday and drilling poor Bill on his skills as a chaperone. It seemed this morning she found him perhaps the least responsible wizard on the planet.

As for Ginny, she was apprehensive and anxious. She and Harry had agreed to tell Adrianna and Charlie about the watch directly after breakfast. However, at the moment it didn't feel like Ginny's decision at all but instead a product of her caving in to Harry's overprotective nonsense.

It was sure to be one of the least fun conversations of Ginny's life. She was sure to get, at the very least, a lecture about her stupidity and immaturity. She had already decided to count how many times Riddle's diary came up, just to see if it hit double digits. She really should have put money on it with Harry.

At worst, they'd tell her parents and it would be used as evidence against making any of her own decisions until she was at least thirty-five. At best, they'd just take the watch.

Maybe she could still talk Harry out of telling them. The thought of never again feeling the sensation of when she and Harry touched the watch together made her mildly ill. And how would they ever know what happened to Helena and her Alexi? How would they ever know whatever it was that they wanted them to know?

Harry was completely overreacting. It wasn't dangerous at all. It had just been a little intense, that's all. Ginny wasn't use to feeling all those emotions, to being an Empath, but it couldn't hurt her. Adrianna felt that way all the time and she was just fine.

Ginny's eyes found Adrianna at the table. Wow, she felt that way all the time. How could she stand it? How did she walk around every day and get things done and be calm and composed?

Come to think of it, at the moment, she didn't look so calm and composed. Actually, Adrianna's careful demeanour had been slowly slipping over the last few days and this morning…well, if Ginny didn't know better she'd say she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Ginny's mother was going through a litany of reasons that she shouldn't entrust her 'babies' to Bill…and Adrianna's name came up quite a lot. Every argument she was made ended with "and you never once mentioned Adrianna in all these years." For obvious reasons Charlie was getting his fair share of the scolding as well.

'Drana was quiet, occasionally grimacing or frowning, rubbing her temples and poking at her food.

Mrs. Weasley was in the middle of her latest tirade. "…and you never once told us Fleur was a Veela… or her age for that matter and you've been dating her for a year! Though, I don't suppose I should be surprised, given your brother never once brought Adrianna home after seven years."

Adrianna froze at the insinuation of the nature of her relationship with Charlie. She closed her eyes as if she were in pain. When she opened them she had the look of a woman who had been pushed too far.

"To be fair, Mrs. Weasley," she said. "That's my fault. Charlie invited me to England multiple times, I wouldn't come."

All conversation at the table stopped at the rare gift of information from the past.

Molly looked at Adrianna incredulously, "Well, why ever not?"

"Well, you see, I hate England," she replied.

Charlie broke the stunned silence, trying to soften her words. "'Drana doesn't hate England…she has a sort of fear of it….a phobia of sorts." He shot her a warning look.

Adrianna rolled her eyes. "Tomato, tomahto, whatever. I wouldn't come."

Ginny couldn't help but ask the obvious question, "But why?"

The Empath stabbed her eggs rather violently. "Well you see, the last time I was here my father was killed rather violently and I felt the entire thing. I had pretty much decided I was never coming back."

The next silence stretched even longer.

"But you did," Harry whispered, his pallor ashen.

"Yes, well I didn't have much choice now. I had a vision. Your safety was a bit more important than my 'phobia.'" Adrianna's eyes darted to Harry and back to her plate. She seemed to have lost the ability to maintain eye contact.

"But Dumbledore…" Harry choked. "The Pensieve…"

Adrianna just shrugged in response.

"What about Dumbledore and the Pensieve?" Charlie asked insistently.

Her jaw hardened and she looked at him challengingly. "The first day I arrived, Dumbledore took Harry and me into the Pensieve and showed us the day my father died. How's that for irony?"

Ginny heard Hermione take a sharp intake of breath and knew she was thinking the same thing. So that's what was behind Adrianna's disrespect of the headmaster.

Charlie looked enraged. "I can't believe…why would he do such a thing?"

"It was for Harry, Charlie…It made sense if you were there." Her tone became soft. "There were things that Harry had to understand."

"By reliving the worst day of your life?" Ginny was surprised to find that she had said the question out loud.

Adrianna fixed her with piercing grey-blue eyes. "Second worst," she stated matter-of-factly. "It was the second worst day of my life." Adrianna tried to go back to eating, but didn't seem to be able to make her hands work. She set down her fork and hastily wiped her hands on a napkin. "Excuse me," she muttered and the astonished group watched her flee the room.

Ginny's eyes fell on Charlie who looked stricken and pale.

"Charlie…" their mum began.

"Sorry," he interrupted. "I have some errands to run." Crack. He Disapparated.

Ginny shared a long look with Harry. She reckoned she didn't need to worry about telling Adrianna and Charlie about the watch after all.

It wasn't until evening that Harry had a chance to get Ginny alone. Their plan to talk to Adrianna and Charlie had kind of gone to hell after the breakfast catastrophe.

Adrianna had emerged for training with bloodshot eyes and a distant expression. She had a calm relentlessness about her teaching…and Harry thought he had never seen her having such a difficult time reading thoughts. Charlie hadn't shown himself until dinner, which Adrianna didn't attend. After the meal she had pulled them into yet another training session, until Charlie had finally come and physically hauled her away to "talk."

When the bloody hell was the wanker going to go back to Romania, was what Harry wanted to know. He had spied on his cousin's closed and Imperturbable door from across the hall for over an hour. He contemplated the guilt he felt for being the reason that Adrianna had relived her father's death. He raged at Dumbledore for being so thoughtless and at Charlie…for somehow being involved in the worst day of her life.

Charlie shouldn't be the one in there "talking" to Adrianna. It should be Harry comforting her. He wished she would confide in him.

When Charlie finally emerged, Harry found Adrianna calmly reading on her bed, insisting everything was "fine" and that she was just "tired."

Disgusted, Harry had left to find Ginny and discuss their situation, as he was suddenly having real difficulties with the plan to tell Adrianna and Charlie anything. Anyway, if she didn't care enough to read his mind, than she didn't deserve to know. Yet…. if keeping the secret hurt Ginny, he would never forgive himself.

He found Ginny in the drawing room with Hermione. They were both reading. Ginny was curled up in a soft arm chair and Hermione was on the sofa. Harry stood in the doorway gesturing wildly, in an attempt to get Ginny's attention without alerting his best friend.

When he finally caught her eye she gave him a look that suggested she believed he had gone quite mad, but she excused herself and slipped away in a skilled way that wouldn't have made even old Mad-Eye suspicious.

When she neared him it was with a wickedly challenging smile that he found somewhat unsettling. Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her into her room, closing the door. When he turned, she was wearing an expectant look cousin to the earlier one that made him blush for some reason and shift nervously on his feet.

He sat at the edge of her bed, suddenly having difficulty figuring out what he wanted to say.

"So?" she prompted, sitting next to him.

"So, I …er…I figured we'd better discuss things since our plan kind of fell apart." He glanced at her sideways and then down at the floor.

"The plan?" she asked in a teasing tone. He couldn't decide how much of it was play.

"Yeah, you know, to tell Adrianna and Charlie."

"Oh," she sounded a bit disappointed. "Do you want to tell them now?"

Was she crazy? He gave her an incredulous look. "Do you value your limbs, because I have a feeling that putting them both in a room and telling them we've been lying and playing with old magic might not be so safe at the moment."

Ginny bit her lip; "So, we wait?" The intense look in her golden-brown eyes was making him uncomfortable.

Harry shrugged, not able to maintain eye contact; as he leaned his elbows on his knees and tapped his hands together nervously. Waiting wasn't exactly what he had been thinking of.

"Harry?" Ginny asked cautiously. "Did you have something else in mind?" He shrugged again. "You do still want to tell?"

"I don't want you to get hurt," he stated softly.

She gave an annoyed grunt. "I'm not as weak as you think I am, Harry."

Her harsh angry tone pulled his eyes back to hers. "I don't," he denied, blushing because it was true, because he couldn't come up with any more convincing words. He looked away. "I just…lots of strong people have been hurt because of me before."

"No one's been hurt because of you, Harry. They made a decision. A decision that was theirs to make and someone else hurt them. Someone evil. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know?" Her passionate speech ended and Ginny's eyes widened as if she were surprised at herself.

Harry had to smile. The world didn't revolve around him; he should remember that. He took a deep breath to give him the strength to once again meet her intense brown eyes. "So what's your decision, Ginevra Weasley?"

Her bravado had already left her and she was gnawing carefully on her bottom lip. "About the watch?" she asked apprehensively. At his sober nod, Ginny sat up straight and assumed a more resolute look. It only wavered a bit when she said, "I want to keep doing it. I want to have more dreams from the watch."

Every bit of air left Harry's lungs. He nodded. "And not tell?"

"Well, I can't imagine that they'll let us keep it if we do."

"No," he said distractedly, carefully choosing his next words. "I was thinking that maybe it would be ok if we tried it again, if…for both our safety…I stayed in Hermione's bed…just in case something goes wrong." Harry didn't dare look at her.

"Okay," she said quickly. Much more quickly than he had anticipated.

He looked at her swiftly. "Okay?"

Ginny nodded. She had a strange look on her face. It was a look that Harry couldn't name, but she was smiling.

He smiled back, suddenly feeling awkward as if she had just agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him or something. "Okay then, I'll um…" he stood shuffling his feet. "I'll, um, be back after Ron and Hermione, you know, go to sleep and stuff."

She nodded, with the same intense smile, and he tried not to run from the room. There was a bounce in his step as he climbed the steps.

When he got to his room Ron was sitting on his bed. Harry was surprised to also find Fred in the middle of the room with a large box at his feet. "Hey," he greeted him, confused. Fred wasn't supposed to be here for the party until tomorrow.

"Hey mate, just dropping by to leave a little gift for Ronniekins. See you blokes at the party. Enjoy!" He smiled wickedly at his brother and Crack, he was gone.

"Uh huh," Ron's belated response followed after him as he stared wide-eyed at a magazine.

Harry took a closer look. "Holy Shite, Ron! Is that…?"

Ron nodded, absently, "Wicked, Wicked Witches."

Harry scrambled round to sit next to him. "They're all starkers?" he whispered, feeling clammy.

"Harry, they're not just starkers."

Harry's mouth dropped open at the sight of the lured, sexual, moving pictures. "Whoa!"

"Yeah."

"What is that?"

Both boys' eyes shot up guiltily, to find Hermione standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

Her expression said she knew exactly what that was.