Thanks everyone for the great feedback. I've made the time to write another bit for Harry and Ginny, and if this goes over well, I will add a lovely Remus and Tonks bit that has been fermenting in my mind. I'd love to do more, but I need some feedback as to what couples people might be interested in. A few caveats: no cheating, no threesomes, I'm not very good with slash. I'd love for a suggestion for a partner for Snape, since I love him and wish I had the guts to come up with my own OOC for him to be partnered with. If anyone out there wants to volunteer their OOC for a nice little dirty scene for me to write, I would be very grateful! Also, I'm looking for a beta, as I such at proofreading.

The young man with unruly black hair and the odd shaped scar on his forehead sat slumped over, his chin propped on his arms which rested on a large table. His normally piercing green eyes stared unseeing at a heavy tome open in front of him. It was very late, or very early, depending on your perspective, and the young man had been staring at one book or another for most of the long night. His friends had left to find their beds, but he had remained, focused with intensity beyond his seventeen years upon his task.

Still, youth would not be denied completely. Fatigue and longing had combined with the strange nature of the hour of two A.M. to plunge him into a waking dream involving a certain beautiful redhead, a waterfall, and a bathing suit which seemed enchanted to come off with the least provocation. As a result, he had a rather dreamy smile on his face, and his pants were getting uncomfortably tight.

He did not hear the door creaking open to an old, beat up wardrobe, or notice that self-same redhead creep up behind him, carrying a flagon of pumpkin juice and two goblets. She smiled, a slow seductive smile signaling a victory to be savored.

"Hello Harry. Happy to see me?"

The Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter, who had survived multiple onslaughts by the darkest and most powerful wizard of the age, was nearly killed as he jumped in his chair and fell over backward with a resounding crash.

"Oh, bugger me."

"Such language, Harry." She giggled as she helped him up. He held her hand a second longer than necessary, and bent to pick up the fallen chair. From his position, he had a marvelous view of her legs. He tried to chase such thoughts away, as they would remove his resolve to stay away from her, to protect her from himself. It was perfectly fine to daydream, but in her presence, the temptation to let his thoughts run away with him and pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless was overwhelming.

She certainly wasn't helping his efforts. Her wizard's robes nowhere to be seen, she wore a short muggle skirt and a little T-shirt. Nothing terribly revealing, but still, they hugged her curves and revealed enough of her pale lustrous skin to cause his heart to beat a bit faster. She pulled out another chair at the table and sat, and he returned to his chair.

"I thought you could use a bit of a break, if you refuse to sleep." She poured the contents of the flagon into the two cups, and seemed to spend quite a bit of time making sure that the cups were even, and every last drop had been gotten out of the flagon. She suddenly seemed as nervous as he felt, and he wondered why.

"Shouldn't you be asleep as well, Gin? I didn't hear you come in from the hall." He glanced at the still locked door leading into Hogwarts from the Room of Requirement.

"I'm a prefect now, remember?" She sighed. So few students had returned to Hogwarts, McGonagall had pressed her into service. "I think I can wander the halls a bit without anyone getting too riled up. No one is as uptight as Snape was." He flinched at the name. She went on, wishing she had not brought up the name of the man Harry still wanted to find and punish, almost more than Voldemort himself. "I was just having a bit of a talk with Hermione at Grimmauld." She indicated the cabinet she had entered through. Though Malfoy had used it to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, Arthur Weasley had confiscated it from Malfoy Manor and brought it to Grimmauld. It had become incredibly useful, as the Trio, and several of the DA, had begun to pore themselves into research in the immense collection of books that resided in the Room of Requirement.

To Harry it was especially useful, as it allowed him to see Ginny almost everyday, and yet still feel she was safe at Hogwarts. She had driven him crazy that summer, and had pestered Ron until she had showed up at Privet Drive, at Godric's Hollow, everywhere. She did not try to approach him romantically, but she refused to be left out, despite his vociferous protests. He had to say, that without her, they might not have found the two Horcrux they had. It had been Hermione her had figured out that RAB was Sirius' brother Regulus, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Black's portrait in the hall, who had aided in that particular discovery. It had been Fred and George who remembered that Muldungus Fletcher seemed to remove quite a bit of booty from the house the year previously after Sirius' death. But it had been Ginny's infamous Bat-Bogey Hex that had gotten Fletcher to tell them where the locket and the Hufflepuff cup had disappeared to.

She pushed one of the goblets toward him with deliberation, and then stared at it, and then back to her own. Something was definitely bothering her. She cleared her throat. "Any luck with the Ravenclaw thing?" Hermione had been certain that they were looking for an artifact of Rowena Ravenclaw. Ginny drank her cup down, draining it in one gulp.

"No, not yet. And no one has any plans for Nagini either." He reached for the cup.

She covered his hand with her own, almost knocking over the cup. "Stop, Harry." She blushed crimson. "I….don't drink it Harry. It's got a potion in it. I'm sorry."

He looked at the cup, and then at her. "What the…you drank yours."

She shook her head. "It won't work unless we both drink it."

He was intrigued. "What is it? A love potion?" You know you don't need that, Gin, he almost added.

"Not exactly." She blushed harder. "It…well, it's something to help us understand the other's feelings better."

"Oh." He was a bit lost, and he looked it.

"I need to know if…I hurt Harry." She stared down at the table. "It hurts so much to not know how you feel, to try and stay distant."

He couldn't stand to hurt her. He looked at the goblet. He grabbed it, and drank it down as she had, in one gulp. "I trust you, Gin." He looked at her, and she seemed shocked. A full minute passed, as they stared at each other. He could practically feel her breathe, he was so focused on her. They both leaned on the table, arms crossed in front of them, staring. She took a lock of her hair, and brushed her left arm. Unconsciously, he scratched the same spot on his own arm, which tickled as though she had brushed her hair over him. She smiled, a huge grin that light up her whole face and made her eyes sparkle.

"It worked!" She took out another vial from the pocket of her skirt, unstoppered it and drank down the contents, all under Harry's astonished gaze. "This will be fun."

Harry finally spoke, confusion writ on his face. "Do..do we have a long talk about our feelings or something?"

Ginny popped out of her chair, and before he could blink, she had climbed into his lap, straddling him and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. "Not those kind of feelings, love." She kissed him, and he couldn't possibly protest. She tasted of pumpkin juice, a bit of the bitter potion she had swallowed, and something warm and wonderful and indefinably Ginny. He thought he would allow himself this one kiss, and then he would pull back, protect her, let her go again. But this kiss was amazing. Sensation flooded him, doubled in fact, as though he was experiencing two kisses at once. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, and he felt the pull on his skull, and his hands tickled as though he could feel the hair himself. He sucked on her lip, and he felt the pleasing fullness of her, and her enjoyment of the action. It was too good to give up.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her full against him, her breasts squashed against his chest through their shirts. God, but she felt good. He wished he could feel her against himself completely, skin to skin, but he pushed the thought away. Ron would kill him, if he didn't beat himself senseless for taking advantage of her.

She giggled, her laugh filling him with happiness. He broke away, "What kind of potion was that anyway?"

She looked suddenly serious. "Amora miratum. We feel what each other feels. That way, you know how much I want you," She ran a hand over one puckered nipple, and his own tightened in response, a flare of incredible feeling.

He closed his eyes, in agony over the opposing dictates of his body, his heart, and his mind. She continued her torture, unrepentant, "And I can know how much you want me." She pushed her hips against his, his arousal evident and straining within his ragged jeans. He whimpered with the sensation, and so did she. He clutched her to him, crushing her lips with his. He felt her hands dive under his T-shirt, her nails scraping along the skin of his back, and he pulsed with need for her. She moaned, and seemed terribly upset as she reached the limits the fabric would allow. She muttered something under her breath, which sounded to him like, "Divesto".

Suddenly, he was shocked by the incredibly warm sensation of his cock rubbing against her bare nether regions. His eyes flew open, and hers rounded in shock. "You're not wearing knickers!" he croaked.

"And you're not wearing anything!" she threw back at him impudently. He looked down, and was right. His clothes were neatly folded on the floor, but he was naked, head to toe. He flushed with embarrassment, and she ran her hands over his naked chest. It was a delightful sensation. She practically purred, "Besides, if a girl sets out to seduce the man she loves, it helps to make access as easy as possible." She twitched her hips experimentally.

He groaned. He had lost this battle, he could no longer fight. She was aroused as he, her labia parted and swollen, so his cock was soon rubbing against those damp folds. She panted, making little moans that sent desire ripping through him, and all the blood in his body seemed to pool in his rock hard member. He took his revenge, and though he did not hold his want, thought of how much he wanted her naked and tried out her incantation.

"Divesto." He muttered, and was rewarded instantly with the longed for sight of her high pert breasts naked before him, the tips of her long red hair caressing the edge of pink puckered nipples.

She gasped, and her hands reflexively reached up to cover her breasts, regardless of the enticing sights of the red curls of her mons entwined with his black hair where their bodies touched.

Merlin, I love this woman, he thought. I've got to stop, I don't want to hurt her. She smiled, and let her hands drop, revealing those beautiful orbs to his rapturous gaze once again.

"I love you too, Harry Potter, you great, overly noble prat. You can't hurt me if you simply let us be together."

"You heard me? What I was thinking?" His mouth gaped.

"Perhaps this potion has some interesting side effects." She closed her eyes. "What am I thinking?"

His jaw grew slack at the vision that filled his head. He could do nothing but obey, bending his head to her breast and kissing the tip lightly. Holy Merlin, that felt good.

In response to desire, whether hers or his, he lost track, he pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Her groaned, and her head lolled back. Her hips bucked against his, and he felt the tip of his cock press against a hard, swollen nub of flesh. They both gasped at the contact.

Ginny moved her hips back and forth, and each brush against her clit set electric sparks through them both. His mind emptied, his every thought centered on the contact between their bodies, his lips on her breast. So he was startled when a thought flashed through his mind, This feels so much better than when I do it myself. An image of Ginny's nimble figures stroking herself as she thought of him sent a shockwave of pure lust through him, so much that he bit her. She moaned loudly in pleasure, and he let go, looking up into her face. Her eyes were wide and she flushed in embarrassment as she realized he knew what she had been thinking.

He gave her a devilish smile, and brought up a memory of him standing in the shower, one hand against the tile and the other wrapped around himself as he whispered her name repeatedly. Her mouth formed a shocked "o", and he moved his hips ever so slightly, bringing her mind back to the incredible pleasure they shared. She thrust against him, rocking back and forth, slick with wetness and need, and the sensations built to an incredible height. They panted together, the sound of their breathing louder than the rumble of the Hogwarts Express.

It was amazing, but he felt an overwhelming need to feel her wet warmth engulf him. At the same time, he sensed her own desire to be filled, to have him completely within her. Logic fled, and passion dictated as he pushed forward and she curled her hips just so. He thrust home, deep within her, and the immense pleasure was doused with a sudden sharp pain. Sanity returned, and he realized what he had done.

"Oh God, Ginny!" He lifted off the chair, his hands on her bum. He set her down on the bed that the table had become, this being the Room of Requirement, and withdrew from her, horrified that he had hurt her, that he had taken her virginity. She looked up at him with passion glazed eyes, anger evident in her face.

"Harry! What in Godric's name are you doing!"

"I'm so sorry." He kneeled on the soft carpet on the ground, and held his head in his hands.

She sat up, and leaned over the edge of the bed, looking down on him. "Harry, it wasn't that bad. Do I hurt anymore?"

He stopped the train of self-hating thoughts swirling in his brain, and considered. There was a dull throbbing in his groin, but there wasn't really pain.

I need you Harry. The thought filled his mind. And it was the truth. She did need him, he felt it so strongly he ached. And he realized, he needed her. More than his body needed her, his heart, his soul needed her like he needed breath. She made him feel stronger, more whole. Only with her did he not torture himself with the consequences of failure, did he believe he might win. He had thought that she was a distraction, that he would work better without worrying about her, but he knew he was wrong. He was at his best with her by his side.

She smiled, and beckoned him onto the bed. He returned the smile, and the lust he had felt a minute ago returned full force, as he looked at her gloriously naked body lying on the silk sheets. Gone was the room of books, the cabinet to Grimmauld and the door back to Hogwarts. Here there was nothing but them and the bed, a soft light filling the room, the smell of roses in the air.

With a thought, a small table and basin of water appeared next to the bed and he stood, wetting a washcloth as she looked on bemusedly. He knelt next to her, and bent over the woman he loved. She shuddered as he touched the cloth to her upper thighs, washing the smear of blood he found there. She took the cloth from him, and ran it over his length, the cool roughness of the terrycloth and the touch of her hands causing the blood to pulse visibly through his penis. One hand braced on the side of her hip, and he touched one finger to the pink folds of her sex, the sensation of her returning arousal filling him with the need to return to her.

At her unvoiced desire, he bent down, and flicked his tongue against the swollen nub of her clit, reveling in her gasp and the fire that pounded in him as her felt her pleasure. She was wet and sweet, and he lapped at her, filling himself with her taste and smell, her sensations mirrored back at him so his untutored enthusiasm was coached by direct knowledge of what caused the most pleasure. She writhed beneath him, and as the thought entered his head, she had maneuvered herself between his knees, and her hand gripped his shaft, her lips closing over the tip of his sex. His hips bucked in reaction and she giggled against him. Continue your previous occupation, please, she asked with a thought, her mouth too full of him to speak.

He obeyed with alacrity, though he could hardly think with her tongue doing amazing things to him. After a few stray licked, she had managed to figure out exactly what caused him the most pleasure, and they settled down into a pattern of licks and sucks, moans and frantic gasps until they both came with tremendous force, the force of both their orgasms multiplied, her wetness flooding his face and his semen filling her eager mouth. Wind howled through the room, and the table and basin had been knocked over by a wave of force, but neither noticed the crash.

Harry fell to his side, and Ginny flipped over, snuggling her naked body against his and tucking her head under his chin.

When each had enough brainpower to think and breath to speak, Harry quietly asked, "Amora miratum? I doubt Snape or Slughorn covered that his their classes?"

She punched his shoulder. "Hermione and I found it in a book during research. Some Italian wizard named Casanova wrote the recipe long ago."

"Really? Hermione?"

"She and Ron are probably similarly engaged at the moment. The potion took a week to brew, and we decided that now would be a good opportunity for seduction."

Harry blushed, and so did Ginny. They both laughed, and Harry enfolded her in his arms even tighter. "Did you know it would be this amazing?" he whispered.

"No." she said. "I didn't realize how much of each other we could feel. The translation was pretty bad, the Italian was really old, but Casanova, he said something like he had searched his whole life for his true love, and that he could feel almost nothing but a distant echo without that. He claimed that for those truly in love, they would feel everything the other felt. I didn't realize that would extend to hearing each other's thoughts."

"He was right, I can feel everything." His hand caressed her bare arm. Her skin felt better than the silk sheets beneath him, and the countless tiny freckles her saw sprinkle across her pale skin intrigued him. He wanted to find each and every one and kiss it. She giggled, and gave his cheek a peck. As she moved, her breast rubbed against his chest, and he felt his own body's awareness of that novelty and her own reaction, the subtle puckering of the skin with friction.

He wanted her again, he wanted to be inside her again, to feel the walls of her tight vagina that had filled him with such bliss the moment before he had torn through her hymen. His cock was already filling again, and he felt guilt flood him, but Ginny would have none of that. He could feel her subtle chastisement as she pulled him over her, locking her lips with his. I want you too, silly boy. I'm yours, I always have been.

I love you so much, he thought. His penis nestled against her again, and he could taste himself on her lips, as she could taste herself. She wrapped her legs around him. With one last second of sanity, an uncomfortable thought intruded.

"Ah, Ginny, um…could you, do you, umm…." He didn't know how to ask.

Fortunately, she could read his mind. "You know that other potion I took, after the pumpkin juice?" He nodded, "It's a contraceptive. Good for a whole month."

"Thank Merlin." He kissed her, and then reared back. They both used there hands to guide him into her opening, and he slide forward as slowly as he could stand, waiting for their mutual discomfort. But there was none, only immense pleasure. When he was inside completely, they both let out held breaths, and laughed at themselves. She arched against him, and he shuddered, the bizarre feeling of filling and being filled at the same time almost more than he could stand. He withdrew slightly and thrust again, and they both moaned in rapture. First slowly and then with increasing speed, they moved together in search of another round of mutual fulfillment. Ginny began to sing a long keening scream as her orgasm built, and when it crashed over them both, Harry roared and Ginny yelled, and it went on and on, ricocheting between them like waves in a pond.

When thought returned, Ginny noticed that they were levitating, above the bed, the sheets blown about in disarray. She let out a little hoarse screech and they landed back on the bed with a pleasant thump that wrung just the tiniest bit of leftover sensation from them with a groan.

They both laughed again, the chuckles rippling through them were they were still one. Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and gazed into Ginny's face. "You are the most amazing, incredible, beautiful woman in the world."

She blushed. "And you are the best, the most magnificent man." She giggled again, "And quite a good lover, although I haven't any experience to compare to."

He growled, "And you won't, not with anyone else if I have a say in the matter."

She kissed the tip of his nose. "How do you suppose we managed to levitate like that?"

He gave it some thought. "I don't know. Gosh, we even knocked over the table, the sheets….that must have been some wind we called up." He remembered something, "And how did you get my clothes off in the first place? Neither of us used a wand."

"I don't know."

It was hard to think about serious matters, not when she looked so incredibly kissable. He wanted to stay in this bed for the next year, but he knew it was impossible. They needed to eat. His stomach rumbled.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "You're as bad as Ron."

He paled slightly. "He's going to kill me, you know. Him and your other five brothers."

"Don't worry, dear, we can take them." She kissed him, and he forgot all about Ron, at least until pain shot through his scar, a pain he had not felt in almost a year.

Ginny let out a little scream, and wrapped her arms around him, and suddenly it was better, though her face was clenched with pain too. He fought back, using the little Occulmency that he remember, and remarkably, it worked. He felt her strength combine with his, and Voldemort was pushed away, far away, as he had never been able to do before.

He looked into her eyes, and he knew that this was vital. Together, they could fight better than he could alone.