13 April 2002
Waking up was brutal.
Ginny cracked her eyes open and immediately wished she hadn't. The sun had changed from a benign presence in the sky to a cruel enemy, piercing her eyeballs, and causing her to whimper. What the hell? Ginny thought blearily. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings, but that just served to increase her confusion. She was sprawled, completely naked, on top of a lightly snoring Harry.
When did I come back to Hogwarts?
Braving the evil rays of the sun again, she blinked. There were no covers on the bed except a plain with sheet. Instead, she was covered in bed curtains that had been pulled halfway off. Ginny had to close her eyes again - it felt like Cornish pixies were hammering her skull. Harry let out a sleepy murmur, and squeezed her bum lightly.
She took several shallow breaths - her stomach kept threatening to revolt - and lifted her head off Harry's chest. It looked as though disaster had struck the room. The bedclothes were nowhere to be seen, but the pillows were strewn about the room with abandon, as were all their clothes, leaving a trail out the door into Harry's sitting room.
Ginny squinted, lips curving in a pained wince. Is that my bra hanging from a wall sconce?
Ginny was too exhausted to ponder, this, however. And the Cornish pixies that had taken to hammering at her skull were now jumping up and down inside it, having entirely too much fun.Ughhhhhh. The pain wasn't something that she'd expected.
Dim memories of the night before were starting to surface. Ginny had left soon after Ron and Hermione, and had found Harry snoozing in his office chair. And she'd brought the bottle of firewhisky with her, and they'd finished it off. "Bad idea," she whispered out loud. "Shouldn't have done that." Even hazier memories flitted through her mind after that, and if she squinted really hard she could almost remember how they had gotten naked, and why all their clothes had been tossed aside with happy abandon.
She whimpered.
"Ginny?" Harry said, voice gravelly with sleep.
"Shhhh," she moaned. The sound of his voice, usually so welcome, was like encouragement to the Cornish pixies to attack her head even more exuberantly.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Ginny sat up, and lifted her hands to her head. Their bodies had been stuck together and made a funny sound when they pulled apart. And her mouth felt (and tasted) like something had crawled in there and died. An image of her attacking Harry and tugging at his clothes rose up in her mind and her stomach rolled. "I'm going to be sick," she said weakly.
Harry moved so quickly that she toppled over.
Ginny glared at him. Not that she didn't blame him, but she didn't want to vomit all over herself either. "Thanks for the help," she said, voice muffled.
"I'm going to help you to the bathroom," he said, hurt. And he tugged on her arm, doing just that. Together, they hobbled over to Harry's loo. "Do you want me to - er - be with you?" he asked uncomfortably.
Ginny had the perverse urge to tell him yes, that she absolutely needed him to hold her hair and make sounds of encouragement as she spilled the contents of her belly into the toilet. But she knew that he'd do exactly that, and if there was one thing she absolutely did not want to do, it was vomit in front of Harry. "No, thank you," she said grudgingly.
He muttered something under his breath.
"I'll be out in a minute - where's my wand?" she asked. Gazing around the room, she saw no evidence of either her wand or the Elder Wand. Instead, she saw Harry's broken holly wand, poking out of Arnold and Calliope's nest of knickers. Her eyes fixed on it and she barely noticed it when Harry stuck her wand in her hand. "Right, thanks," she said. And as she lurched into the loo, shut the door, and cast a Silencing Charm, she felt a pang of guilt for being short with him.
But the pain made it difficult to be nice. Thinking she had a minute at best before she could no longer control the waves of nausea that were crashing over her with growing fervor, she took down the charm. "I love you very much," she said, not even waiting for his reply before she shut him out again.
Ten minutes later, she exited the loo feeling only marginally better. "Why'd I drink so much?" she said in a small voice. Harry was sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes. He had put on a pair of trousers but hadn't yet bothered with a shirt. In fact - Ginny looked closer - it looked as though he'd halted mid-task, too exhausted to continue.
"I had fun," he said, slowly sitting up. He held out a small bottle to her. "It's a hangover potion," he explained. "I got it from Kreacher."
Ginny eyed it dubiously. It hardly seemed like she should accept a hangover potion from a deranged house-elf (even though Harry said he was reformed, Ginny didn't believe it fully. "Is it safe?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "But it isn't immediate - the pain will go away bit by bit."
Ginny shrugged a shoulder, thinking that it really couldn't get worse, grabbed it out of his hand, and drained it in one gulp. Several seconds slid by with nothing happening. But slowly, her stomach felt warmer and less prone to spew its contents.
"As soon as you want, I thought we could go to Grimmauld Place," Harry said. "I thought you might want to - there's a huge bath, I thought that would help you feel better."
It took so long to think. "A bath?" she said slowly.
"Yeah," he said. "You know - large tub, hot water, maybe some bubbles..."
"I know what a bath is," Ginny told him testily, gathering up her clothes and wishing that she could magic her clothes onto her body without having to do anything. "I'm just... well, I don't really feel up to having sex right now," she added.
"I don't want to have sex!" he said hurriedly. "Well - I would, but..." he grimaced a little, and Ginny thought that the idea of possibly being puked on had dampened his ardor. "Besides," he said in a different tone of voice. Ginny looked up at him; he was smiling quite smugly. "I'm still more than satisfied from last night."
"We had fun then, did we?" Ginny asked, pulling on her trousers. I'm not even going to bother with knickers, she thought. And her bra remained draped over the wall sconce.
"I had fun twice," Harry confirmed. "And you had fun several times."
Ginny allowed a small smile at the triumph in his tone. "I don't remember," she said, wishing that she could. "I mean - bits and pieces," she added. Like pushing him up against the wall... Ginny thought they might've had sex on his couch, but couldn't be entirely sure.
"We should do this more often," Harry said. When she glared at him in disbelief, he lifted his hands up in surrender. "I don't mean. Well, we don't have to drink too much. But..." his eyes were both serious and amused at the same time. "You were amazing last night. Just... totally wild."
Ginny really wished she could remember. But another wave of nausea churned in her belly, and she couldn't concentrate on anything but not vomiting on the floor of Harry's room. Through a daze, she heard him suggest leaving for Grimmauld Place right away, and was she sure she could make it through the floo?
She did make it through the whirling green flames. Barely. Her stomach rebelled, and she didn't even pay attention to her surroundings, or the fact that Harry kept having to keep the invisibility cloak from sliding off of her (both of them had decided that it was probably best that no one see her walking through the corridors in her state).
"Do you want me to carry you up the stairs?" Harry asked, once they had safely arrived in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Ginny squinted and stared around her - the room was very clean but dark, as though it was not often used. As far as she could remember, the nearest bathroom that had a bathtub was up three flights of stairs.
"Up three flights of stairs?" she asked dubiously, despite the fact that she wanted him to carry her; her conscience wouldn't let him hurt himself trying to help her.
"I'd charm you to make you really light," he said. Before she could say anything, he'd performed the charm and lifted her into his arms. It was a strange sensation, like floating.
Once inside the bathroom, he set her down and pointed his wand at the huge, tiled tub. Ginny gaped at it. It was the largest private bath she'd ever seen. How had she not known of this bathroom when she'd lived here for a summer, or when they'd stayed over Christmas? The aroma of perfumed bubbles filled the air.
"I'll be right back," Harry said. "Get ready - I just need to tell Kreacher a few things."
Through the door to the bathroom, Ginny heard Harry's voice getting closer as he gave final instructions to Kreacher. Steam was slowly filling the room as well as the delicate perfume of the bubbles, and even in her vulnerable state, Ginny admired the gracious size of the bathtub. Wrapping the towel around her tightly, she tilted her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes, wishing that Harry would come in and that the potion would take its full effect.
"-Yes, just make up one bed," Harry said exasperatedly, stopping just outside the door. "In the master bedroom."
Kreacher croaked something that Ginny couldn't quite hear.
"Fine. Make two beds if you want," Harry said. "But we're only going to use one. Don't give me that look. You aren't my mum."
A long stream of what sounded like an indignant bullfrog was all Ginny heard.
"You aren't her mum, either!" Harry called. He opened the door and stepped in, looking mutinous. His hair stuck up on all ends, and his mouth was set in mulish lines. As soon as the latch clicked shut - and he did it gently, to Ginny's great relief - he began to strip off the robes and trousers he'd hastily donned before they left his rooms at Hogwarts. Usually she loved to watch him undress - the long, lean lines of his body were pleasing to her - but now she just wished he'd hurry up so they could get in the bath.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, checking the temperature and laying his wand on the dark green tile. "Mother Kreacher was giving me a hard time."
"Someone needs to keep you in line," Ginny murmured half-heartedly.
"I have you for that," he said, giving her a lop-sided grin that made her stomach turn over; this time, in a good way. "I think you're excellent at keeping me on the straight and narrow."
"That's because I just encourage you," Ginny sighed heavily, but was able to give him a small smile before she dropped her towel. Harry stepped into the tub and sat down. Ginny followed him directly, settling herself between his legs, and sank down into the water. "Ahhhhhhhhh," she moaned as the warmth flowed over her. Whether it was the bath or the potion, she didn't know, but either way she almost immediately began to feel less like death.
Harry's arms went around her, anchoring her, and she leaned her head back to rest it against his chest. Minutes passed in a haze of lazy peace; neither of them spoke a word. But slowly, as her stomach really began to settle, she felt a little guilty for her grouchiness. "Mmm," she said. "I'm sorry for... being grumpy with you earlier."
"It's okay," he said softly, sounding totally relaxed. "Don't get mad - but... I thought it was kind of cute."
"Cute?" Ginny asked in disbelief. She'd seen herself in the mirror. Not a pretty sight.
"Uh huh," he told her. "My favorite part was when you yelled that you love me very much. You sounded very grumpy."
Ginny paused, and then snorted. Harry lifted her off him, and then reached for a bar of soap. He lathered his hands and rubbed slow circles on her back. Little bits of memory filtered back as he stroked her back and then her arms and chest. They did much to explain why even though the rest of her body was hurting, one part of her had woken up very satisfied and happy. "So..." she said. "We had fun last night?"
"Yes, a lot," he said, kissing the back of her neck. But neither his kiss nor his hands were actively seeking to arouse her, which strangely made her happy.
They'd been on the couch, Ginny knew. Wearing most of their clothes - this was right after she'd cajoled him into drinking a healthy amount of the firewhisky - with only the important bits bare. She furrowed her brow. She had the feeling that they'd talked about something, but what had been said slipped through her mind before she could register it. The next thing she remembered was leaning up against the wall and Harry kneeling in front of her, using his mouth to bring her to orgasm.
"Did we have sex on the couch?" she asked.
"For about a minute," Harry said. "Can I wash your hair?" he asked. Ginny nodded, and dunked fully under the water. By the time she sat up, Harry had the shampoo bottle in his hand, and he poured a healthy measure on the top of her head. His fingers gently lathered it, and Ginny couldn't help but moan. It felt incredible, and the pounding in her skull eased even further.
"Why only a minute?" she wondered.
Harry chuckled. Ginny marveled at the fact that a chuckle could sound so smug. "You made me finish pretty much right away," he told her cheerfully, working out the knots in her hair.
"What'd I do?"
It just seemed strange to her. He generally lasted longer than that, unless it was right after he'd used his mouth on her.
"You told me something," Harry said. Ginny felt his penis stir against her bum. But before she could ask what, he continued, "You told me that you think of me when you touch yourself. And as if that wasn't brilliant enough..." his voice trailed away dreamily. And then he smoothed wet strands of hair away from her ear and whispered the rest of what she'd said directly into it.
"What?!" Ginny squeaked, jerking. Her face flushed bright red.
"Of course I couldn't help but explode after that," he told her. If it weren't for the enthusiasm of his tone and his growing erection, Ginny might've tried to escape. Instead, she scooted over to the other side, pretending that she only wanted to rinse her hair under the tap, and not because she was mortified. All of the shampoo was out of her hair before she looked at him again.
He was across the tub from her. Most of the bubbles had faded, and she stared in the direction of his lap. He really likes that, Ginny thought in disbelief. "I can't believe I said that," she whispered.
"It was the most erotic thing I've ever heard," he said simply. Gesturing toward his erection, he added, "As you can see. But you can just ignore it," he added hastily.
Ginny nodded, and moved back to her original place, mind racing. She didn't think she'd actually keep her promise, especially the way he'd described it. And she couldn't believe she'd admitted that! But maybe... he'd been turned on thinking about it today, and it had made him finish quite quickly. But thinking about it made her head pulse; by the time she'd forced herself to worry about it later, his erection had disappeared.
"Ready to get out?" he asked, yawning. "I'm really sleepy again."
"All right," she agreed.
They got out of the bath and wrapped themselves in towels, even though Harry had used the Elder Wand to dry them both off. Harry poked his head out of the door, checking to make sure that Kreacher was nowhere in sight. "It's just down the hall," he said. They hurried by two doors and several portraits who gazed down at them sternly. One of them - an old woman in a flowery nightcap, appeared scandalized.
"I'm pretty sure people have been naked together in this house," Harry said irritably. "Sirius and Regulus didn't come out of nowhere."
Ginny giggled as a portly man in another portrait gasped and dropped his quizzing glass.
"If any of you say a word about 'besmirching the house of your forefathers,' I'm going to blast some portraits off the wall," Harry added warningly. He ushered her inside an open door, and shut it on the condemning eyes of Black ancestors, who were sputtering about decency and "young people these days." Just as the woman in the nightcap muttered something about marriage, Harry drew Ginny out of earshot.
Neither one of them wasted any time in dropping their towels and crawling into bed. Ginny couldn't help a moan when she slid into the soft and warm sheets. The only sign that it was actually daytime and not nighttime was a small spill of light that wasn't covered by the heavy draperies. She sighed and scooted closer to Harry, who wrapped his arm around her waist.
"I still can't believe I forgot," Harry said suddenly. "I know we talked about this last night, but..."
"Yeah, I know," Ginny said, yawning. And they had talked about it when she'd returned to his office, to find him still there, waiting for her. Most of the rest of the bottle of firewhisky had been drunk while expressing mutual incredulity over it. She felt a pang in her stomach when she thought of her family, who surely had as bad of hangovers as she did, and probably didn't feel a strange mixture of triumph and sadness.
Squeezing his hand, she added, "Thank you. Just... thank you for, you know, helping me forget."