CHAPTER FOUR: DREAMS & NIGHTMARES

Harry's lips pressed hard against hers as he led them to his bed. Ginny pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down gently before pushing him backwards and straddling him. Rubbing her core against him, she gasped in pleasure. Oh, he felt so good against her.

Ginny kissed him on the lips again, trailing kisses down his torso as she lifted his shirt. She needed to touch his skin, to feel all of him against her own skin. She made her way down past his belly button and undid his jeans, pulling them down his thighs. She placed a soft kiss against his erection trapped in his briefs as she removed the trousers even further. She nibbled on his thigh for a moment, taking pride in hearing him curse.

She made her way back up his body again, rubbing her core against him once more.

"Oh, Harry, please," she whined.

Without skipping a beat, he flipped them over so that he was on top of her.

"Tell me what you want, Ginny," he said, touching her aching center.

"Please, Harry. I want you inside me."

"Your wish is my command," he whispered. He pulled her trousers off her, cursing as they got caught on her feet. She giggled lightly until he rubbed his body against her.

She whimpered. "Oh, Harry."

He grabbed her breast, and her brain went haywire for a moment.

She wasn't sure how they became completely naked, but she accepted it wholeheartedly. Harry guided himself to her entrance, looking into her eyes for one more approval before he sheathed himself in her.

There were no thoughts in her head except the words finally and home floating amidst the pleasure.

"You feel so good inside me," Ginny gasped out.

Harry grunted something unintelligible back to her as he continued to thrust into her.

He brought his hand back to her nub and rubbed it, and that was all it took for Ginny—again. Her back arched as she was overcome by waves of pleasure. "Oh, fuck," she moaned. Harry brought her mouth to his and kissed her, passion in every movement.

"I want to see you on top of me," Harry whispered huskily. She nodded, but still pouted as he pulled out of her. As soon as they were resituated, Ginny mounted him, groaning in approval once he was back inside her.

Harry's green eyes were darker than she'd ever seen, she thought vaguely as she rode him. She admired how his hands looked on her waist and breast, his darker skin tone beautiful against her creamy one. She could get used to this—wouldn't mind a repeat performance, she thought right before she saw stars again.

She felt him twitching inside her and the warm liquid filled her. She kissed him as he came, relishing the look on his face.

When she felt that he was done, she rolled off him and cuddled into his side. She felt boneless and happy. Sated in a way that she never had been before. She realized as she came back down from the high that they were both panting.

"That was… amazing," Harry whispered.

She could only nod for a moment as she nestled herself further into his arms.

So warm.

"Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know I don't usually do this. Go home with someone without knowing them."

"I know," he told her.

"And how do you know that?" Ginny looked up into his face earnestly, extremely curious while somehow dreading his answer.

"I feel like I know you," Harry informed her. "Not that it would matter if you did go home with wizards often," he assured, running his hand through her hair reverently.

"No?" Ginny asked.

"All that matters is that you're with me, right now," Harry said, kissing her forehead.

She ran her fingers over his bare chest, taking in the softness of his skin, the way his sheets felt against her bare bottom, and the way his hair was slightly sweaty, sticking to his forehead. She placed a chaste kiss on his chest. She wanted to stay here forever—but she really couldn't.

"I'd better get going," she told him after some moments of silence.

He looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned on his face. "Are you sure you don't want to shower first, and maybe eat something?"

Both of those things sounded so nice, Ginny thought. She had some things around her flat she needed to do… but food, after that bit of indulgence, seemed like something that was important.

"Well, maybe a quick bite, but then I do really have to go," she acquiesced.

He grinned. "I can make anything you want. Anything you're in the mood for?"

Ginny thought about it. No, nothing sounded particularly good. "Surprise me," she told him.

"Can do," he replied. He placed a kiss on her head before he gently got out from underneath her, disentangling his limbs. Ginny admired his bare bum as he bent over to pick up a pair of shorts. She had always had a thing for bums, she had to admit. And Harry's bum was the finest she'd seen in a long time—if ever.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she'd been at work, wondering what his body would feel like against hers, and now here she was in his bed. Harry's bed. Merlin, she thought, as she did the math. That had only been two or three days before. She'd never made such quick work of someone before. Then again, she had never wanted someone the way she wanted Harry.

Even after the amazing shag, Ginny still wanted Harry. It was as if she couldn't get enough of him.

She heard him puttering about in the kitchen and Ginny wondered if she should get up and help, or if she should stay in bed. Would it be presumptuous for her to stay in bed, and expect Harry to wait on her? She thought the bed was awfully comfortable and warm. She also felt that if she got out of bed, she'd have to find her clothes sooner, and she didn't quite feel up to that yet.

She resolved to stay in his bed until it was time for her to leave, which would happen more quickly than she would like. She snuggled into the blankets, covering her head, and closing her eyes.

Even now in her post-coital bliss, those potions were calling to her. It was an ache within her, whispering for her attention. She was completely sober right now, she realized. The pain that she normally felt when sober was a small phantom, echoing inside of her quietly. Usually it was like a steam-engine.

She clenched her eyes shut more tightly and tried to ignore the siren call. She focused on what she'd just felt with Harry, and the way his bum had looked as he'd gotten up. She pictured him in the little kitchenette she'd vaguely noticed on her way to the bedroom with him, wearing shorts and nothing else as he fried something up.

She was vacillating between her craving for two entirely different drugs and she felt as if she might fall off the cliff if she indulged too much in either.

She heard the door creak as it opened further and distracted from her inner war. She opened her eyes and poked her head out from the covers.

"Asleep already?" Harry joked. He was carrying two plates and two mugs.

She smiled at him and sat up, the covers falling away from her chest as she did so. She noticed Harry's eyes linger on her breasts as it fell away, and the heat his gaze caused nearly overwhelmed her for a moment. Merlin, she thought yet again, he'll be my undoing.

Another thought followed closely behind the first one: he already has been your undoing, multiple times.

Ginny pushed away the thoughts and focused on the plate Harry was handing her. It was beans and cheese on toast, with two slices of thick bacon on the side

"You sure know the way to a girl's heart, Potter," she told him. "Or at least, her pants." She took the mug from him again as he laughed.

"I figured it would be good sustenance for whatever you've got going at this ungodly hour," he said.

She took a sip from the mug, happily surprised to find that it was warm and creamy Lady Grey tea. "How'd you guess about the Lady Grey?" she asked.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "It's a twist on a classic."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but instead of saying anything further, she took a bite of bacon.

"Sweet Merlin, this is good," she said around a mouthful.

Harry laughed again, and she silently rejoiced in the sound of it as she continued to finish her bite. "Is there anything you're not good at?" she asked.

"Erm… well, I'm pants at cleaning charms," Harry told her.

"That's a weakness, for sure," Ginny agreed. "It's all in your intention."

"That's what I've been told, but I can't seem to get the laundry to fold straight, or for the dishes to completely clean."

She cut into the beans and toast, spearing it on her fork and savoring it as it entered her mouth. It was like a mouth orgasm, the flavours producing a tingle of pleasure on her taste buds.

After she recovered, she said, "There's manuals for that, you know. Or, if you're brave, you can always attend the Molly Weasley Household Charms Bootcamp. It's a sleepaway camp where you're subjected to overeating and household chores every day."

As she took another bite, she realized that she may have inadvertently invited him to meet her mother. Surely, he would take it for the joke it was. After all, they hadn't even been on a date yet. Or maybe never, she thought. Maybe this was a one-time thing. Who knew? Not her.

Harry was eating his own beans and toast with cheese, munching away as he, too, looked lost in thought. Should she say something else? Had she made it awkward? Should anything feel awkward after she'd shared herself with him? Even though she felt like he should know her by heart after their romp, she knew there were things she couldn't tell him.

No, there were many things in her life that Ginny would never be able to tell him. Things that were buried beneath layers of shame and secrecy that no one knew. She realized that no one knew her completely. Not even those that had known her during the war and had witnessed the lengths she'd gone to not only keep herself safe, but those around her who were more vulnerable. She'd gone to great lengths to try to keep the younger students' innocence intact, but she knew she hadn't succeeded as well as she could have.

And still, she didn't feel nearly as much shame about those things as she did about the state her life was in currently. And Harry could never know about it.

He was an Auror, she thought with more clarity than she had all night. How could she even think about dating an Auror? This was all a mistake, Ginny told herself.

Ginny's appetite for the beans and toast had vanished instantly as she realized the implications of her actions. She looked at Harry, who still was eating and looking deep in thought.

"I have to go now," she told him, perhaps more coldly than she'd meant to.

He looked at her in surprise but nodded. "I can take your dishes and walk you out," he told her.

"Thank you," she said. She stood up and looked around for her clothes. There were her knickers, on the floor across the bedroom. And her trousers were a few feet away, as well. She pulled them both on quickly, feeling dirty and guilty.

Ginny walked into the living room, finding both her bra and her blouse on the floor near the sofa. She put them on quickly, and then pulled on her shoes too.

When she turned around, Harry was standing behind her, completely clothed. He was running a hand through his messy, raven hair, looking a little lost.

"I can walk myself to the Apparition point," she told him.

He looked like he was debating with himself. "If you don't mind, I'll walk with you," he finally replied.

Ginny nodded without saying anything and allowed him to lead her out of his flat. The walk seemed even longer than it had on the way up, and now there was a coldness between them. Now she'd made things awkward. She felt awful about it. She didn't want it to end like this, but it had to.

Her life was one that he couldn't enter. No, he didn't belong in the world that she'd immersed herself in. He was too good for it, she told herself. Not only that, but he couldn't ever find out about her sideline activities. She bit her lip as she looked up at him, still wanting Harry with every fibre of her being. The heat of wanting was filling her up, threatening to burn her from the inside out.

She couldn't ever have him again, she told herself. It was the reality of the life she led.

They finally reached the Apparition point and she waved at him as she blinked out of existence.

Ginny found herself a block from her own flat and continued to walk. It was colder than she'd noticed at Harry's, and she realized that autumn would be here before she knew it. She pulled her jacket more tightly against her, feeling as if the weight of the world were pressing down on her.

All she could think about was the sweet relief the potion would bring her. She wouldn't feel so nasty once she had it down her throat. Sometimes she didn't think there was anything as good as the rush she got right after she took it. Everything else—besides Harry, apparently—had paled as soon as she'd been given the potion after her Quidditch injury.

She knew she'd have to kick the habit once she saved enough money to go to Curse-breaking school, but for now, it was her life. She enjoyed it. It made her art better, too, she thought. It lent her more creativity, made her brushstrokes more beautiful.

And, of course, it took away any pain she felt.

Ginny found herself nearly running up the stairs to her flat, foregoing the lift, as that would take even longer. She could almost feel the warmth of it inside her body, the way she'd feel whole again. She just needed to get her hands on it, and she would be happy.

She unlocked her door with her password, not even caring who may be around to hear, and slammed the door behind her as she walked quickly to its hiding place beneath her bed.

She pressed her thumb against the lock and heard it click. She opened the box, and grabbed a vial, unstopping it in moments. She poured the whole vial back in ecstasy, ready for the relief and happiness it would bring.

Only, there was no lessening of the pain in her back. And she still felt like shite about leaving Harry the way she had. Merlin, she wanted him still. Why didn't she feel better? She wondered. Maybe she should take more, she decided. Should she do a smaller portion, or the whole next vial?

Ginny decided to wait a little bit and see.

She laid down on her small twin-sized bed, feeling as if the world was simultaneously spinning and crushing her.

She needed something and she wasn't sure what anymore. What was she missing? She wanted Harry again, for one thing. And for another, she wanted normalcy. What was that, anyway?

What was normal, anymore? She hadn't been normal for years. Maybe since before Hogwarts, even. What would her life be like if Tom Riddle had never even existed?

Normal, she guessed, unable to picture it.

She decided another vial of potion wouldn't hurt and reached down to the box on the floor to grab it. It was the second to last one, she realized.

She opened it and knocked it back, dropping it on her bedside table.

The clatter it made startled her for a moment, not having been expecting it to be quite so loud. She laid back against her pillow, thinking it had never felt comfier. The room was spinning now, too, the bed beginning to tilt unpleasantly beneath her. She felt like she was on one of those muggle rollie-coasters, and she closed her eyes, hoping it would help. It seemed to continue, even though she couldn't see the room spinning anymore.

She felt something claw its way up her stomach, and she tried to push it down. Unable to quash it, she leaned over the side of the bed and retched onto the floor. On and on it went before the world blackened around her.

When she awoke, Ginny was in her old dormitory at Hogwarts, and it was nighttime. There was no pain in her back now, only a feeling of intense fear.

She got up from her bed as quietly as possible and tip-toed around the room. Her dorm mates were all sleeping in their own four-poster beds, and safe, as far as she could tell.

She left the dorm room and quietly made her way downstairs. She wasn't wearing a nightdress, like she expected, but her school robes. Had she fallen asleep wearing them? she wondered.

The Gryffindor common room was empty, and the fire mere ashes in the fireplace. No one ever kept the fire going late anymore. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and disillusioned herself. It was a spell they had been working on in the D.A. lately, and Ginny had found herself rather talented at them.

She climbed into the portrait-hole and pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait, carefully stepping down onto the flagstone. She quietly closed the portrait and could almost have sworn she made eye contact with the Fat Lady as the portrait whispered, "Who is there? You'd best get back to bed!"

She ignored the Fat Lady and continued her quest. She had overheard Alecto Carrow making plans with another Death Eater on the floo one day as she'd been leaving detention, and her own plan had been born.

She couldn't continue to allow things to happen in her school. None of them were safe here. Especially with the Carrows running rampant. It was up to Ginny to stop Alecto and Amycus.

There was only one thing Ginny could do that would put a permanent stop to her Death Eater professors.

She trudged down further to the dungeons, feeling sick to her stomach all the while. You must do this, Ginny, she told herself. You must keep everyone safe. You must be safe.

When was the last time she'd felt safe? Sometime before all this. When she was thirteen, she realized. She was seventeen now. It had been four fucking years, Ginny thought. All she wanted was to feel safe again.

With renewed fervor, she marched to Alecto's quarters, and knocked on the door. It took a few moments, but the door opened with a faint creak.

Alecto looked around. "What the fuck?" She muttered, unable to see Ginny.

Ginny slid past her into her quarters, waiting until Alecto closed the door again before wordlessly placing a silencing charm on the room. Another skill she had been practicing in the D.A.

She cancelled her disillusionment charm, and dramatically knocked an ink pot over on the desk next to the door.

Alecto spun around; eyes narrowed. However, when they fell upon Ginny, she began to sneer. "What are you doing in my quarters, Weasley?"

"Oh, you know. Just being a blood traitor," she told Alecto lightly. "Ruining the cause one Death Eater at a time."

"You'll rot in detention for this, you brat!"

"Oh, I'm not the one who will be doing the rotting," Ginny taunted again.

"Why—you!"

Ginny had an advantage on Alecto, she knew. Alecto still hadn't drawn her wand, for whatever reason. "Petrificus Totalus!" Ginny shouted.

Alecto froze and fell backward. Ginny walked closer and stood over her. "How does it feel to be powerless, Alecto?"

Alecto, obviously, didn't answer.

"How does it feel to know that I could snuff you out, or leave you here to die?" Ginny didn't know where this was coming from anymore, but out it poured.

She had planned this out, but she suddenly wondered if there was any honour at all in killing someone who was unable to defend themselves. She stepped back and thought a moment before deciding that she did not give a flying fuck about honour right now.

There was no honour in war, only survival. And she would be the one to survive this war, even if she had to kill Tom Riddle himself if it came down to it. She wouldn't be a casualty.

Alecto would, though. "Avada Kedavra," Ginny whispered, wand pointing at the Death Eater. Her hand didn't even quiver as she cast the spell.

The sickly green light travelled from her wand to Alecto on the floor, and Ginny felt the releasing of her previous spell as the life left the Death Eater's body in the space of a second.

Alecto Carrow was dead, and Ginny Weasley had killed her. Now, what to do with the body? Feed it to the acromantulas? Dump it in the lake? Hang it in the entrance hall for all to see?

The acromantulas would leave the least amount of evidence against her, she reasoned.

She wasn't sure how she did it, but she made her way to the Forbidden Forest with Alecto's body and left it where she knew the nest was.

She stumbled back towards the castle, and the images played in her mind endlessly. She didn't feel victorious, and she still didn't feel safe.

She only felt dirty. She felt vile, even. She had murdered someone, in cold blood. It wasn't self-defence if she hadn't been in danger at the time. Her stomach revolted as she remembered. Vomit made its way up her throat, burning everything in its path.

She fell on all fours, still retching, and then, she woke up.

Again, but this time in her flat, on her bed, vomit dried on her face and next to her bed.

Merlin's saggy y-fronts, it smelled putrid. She wiped at her face and stared at the clock on her bedside table, trying to focus her eyes on the time.

It was four in the afternoon. Sunlight was shining in through her one, tiny window. Gods, her head hurt like hell, too.

She tried to remember the night before, but all she could envision was her dream, her memory from Hogwarts. Why did she dream of that awful night?

She stumbled out of her bed, making sure to avoid her pile of sick. Where was her wand?

She looked desperately for it, finally finding it on the floor by her doorway. What had she done last night?

"Evanesco," she muttered, vanishing the sick. She desperately needed a shower. As she stood under the hot water, hair plastered to her head, darkening from copper to auburn, she remembered.

The Burrow, Seamus' pub, Harry. Shagging Harry Potter. And it hadn't been just any shag, but it had been the best shag of her life. Her head was still pounding, but she pushed through to remember the rest of it. Leaving him, deciding she couldn't see him. And then, the potion.

Merlin, she could have died from the amount she'd taken! No wonder she'd been sick. As she lathered her hair with shampoo, she realized that she'd missed her shift, too.

Shite, she thought. She needed this job. She was supposed to be there at half-nine, and here she was, eight hours later, waking up. How could she be so fucking irresponsible? She should have known better, Ginny berated herself.

She'd have to owl her boss as soon as she was out of the shower and explain that she'd come down with a bug of some sort. She really needed this job.

She hurried through her shower, still feeling like shit. Towel wrapped around her body, she scampered to her desk and grabbed her quill, shaking the images of the inkwell from her memory.

She apologized profusely in her note, making an excuse that she was ill, and that she hadn't known she'd sleep through her alarms. She grabbed the post ordering form and pressed her wand to a small, quick looking owl. Hopefully, it would arrive from the nearest owl order office quickly. She knew the office wasn't too far away.

She made sure everything in her flat was clean of any of her vomit as she pulled on a pair of comfortable shorts and that old Gryffindor t-shirt. She just wanted to be comfortable, she still felt as if she had a massive hangover.

She'd never done that before, and she was not eager for a repeat performance.

She had never even finished what she'd set out to do the night before when she'd left Harry's flat.

She pulled out the roll of canvas she'd been sent by an owl that matched the painting she'd given Master Doru and grabbed her paints from beneath the sink. She set her paint corner up, making sure that she had the perfect lighting for what she needed to do.

Ginny had always loved painting, but she had really taken it up after the war. Painting and Quidditch were her two favourite things, though she didn't have Quidditch anymore.

Ginny turned on her wireless and began to paint.