Harry kept himself low on his broom, trying to figure out if he'd broken out of the Quidditch field's enchanted airspace and was now in an area where Muggles could see him. The Bludger was whizzing back and forth behind him, but he didn't dare swerve too far out of its path because he feared it would latch onto Ginny again. She was still close behind him and he vaguely heard her calling spells, trying to stop the ball. He wanted to yell at her to turn around and go back, but it was taking all his concentration to keep from being knocked off his broom. He had dropped his Beater's Bat when the ball had suddenly rounded on Ginny and now he was simply flying as fast as he could away from it.
Harry was more than uncomfortably reminded of second year, when another enchanted Bludger had chased him until he ended up breaking his arm. And then losing all the bones in it. He only hoped this ending would be less painful.
Ahead, he saw what looked like an open field and he began to gently arc himself in that direction, hoping that maybe he could figure out a way to land and then roll on top of the Bludger. He glanced back again, to check the progress of the Bludger and make sure Ginny was still okay, and completely missed the fact that the field sloped away down a hill.
By the time Harry looked back in front of him, he couldn't swerve fast enough to completely avoid the trees that suddenly loomed up ahead. He heard Ginny yell, but it was too late; the Bludger slammed into his back and knocked Harry into a large branch about fifteen feet off the ground. The impact must have broken the charm on the ball because it stopped short and fell to the ground like a brick.
Unfortunately, so did Harry. But he caught a couple of lower branches on his way down before he finally landed on his side under the tree.
For two long moments, he couldn't breathe; the force of the impact had knocked the wind out of him. After another minute, he caught his breath and wished he hadn't; every inch of him ached. His arms and the side of his face stung from where the branches had scraped the skin raw and he felt more than one trickle of blood on his face.
Reflexively, Harry wiggled his body and tried tensing his muscles – it was ingrained in him as an Auror to assess his injuries as soon as possible so to determine if he was able to continue the chase, escape if necessary, or instead needed to try to Disillusion himself.
Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken. Tomorrow he was going to be one, big bruise.
Slowly, Harry sat up, closing his eyes when the light started to blink and pop and his head began to spin. Bad idea. He began to lower himself back to a prone position, keeping his eyes closed.
"Harry!" Ginny's voice was suddenly right next to his and he felt her cool hand brush across his forehead. Her other arm was behind his back, supporting him as she helped him lay flat again. She spoke calmly, but the high pitch of her voice betrayed the fear lying just below the surface of her words.
"You disappeared all of a sudden and I couldn't see you when you dropped down behind that hill. The sun was in my eyes and when I finally realized you were not in front of me I couldn't figure out where you'd gone. Thank Merlin I found you so fast." Harry felt her other hand join the first on his face, and he leaned into the coolness.
"Can you open your eyes?"
"Yeah. Give me a minute." Harry swallowed hard until the dizziness passed and then looked up at her. She was leaning over him, biting her lower lip, but the tense look in her eyes eased a bit when she saw him open his.
"You're a mess. Is anything broken?" Her hand brushed down his cheek, wiping away a trickle of blood. Harry shuddered, and Ginny's hand froze.
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"Everything hurts," Harry admitted. "But I don't think anything's broken. And . . . no. That felt good. Your hand, I mean."
"You have some nasty scrapes," said Ginny. Harry felt her hand on his shoulder, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, which seemed to be falling away awfully easily. "This is completely ruined." Harry felt a cool breeze on his skin and a second later Ginny traced down his chest, following a gentle pattern across his ribs and down to Harry's hip. "You must have hit the tree branch straight on – the bruise covers half your torso." Her thumb rubbed across Harry's stomach and he shuddered again. "Do you want me to try to heal some of this? I know a bit of first aid."
"Yes, please." Harry said thickly. The aches in his muscles were becoming more pronounced and he felt more than one stinging cut on his skin. But he would have asked her to heal him even if he'd been in no pain at all, just so she would keep touching him like that.
Ginny shifted next to him so that she was sitting cross legged at his head. Her hands were back up at his face, one gently brushing back his fringe of hair and the other cupping his cheek. "I think I need to clean off the blood first. If I use Tergeo I'll end up poking the bruises too much. Hold on." A second later she had ripped away a piece of Harry's ruined shirt.
Harry heard her mutter the Augmenti charm and then he felt her brush the cool dampness across his forehead and down his cheek. He couldn't help wincing a bit; even with Ginny being as gentle as she could, it still stung. But then Ginny's fingers were pressing lightly along Harry's cheek and down to his jaw, probing softly, and Harry sighed. "Does that hurt?" she asked.
Hurt was the farthest thing from Harry's mind at that moment. Ginny was so close that her hair was brushing across his chest, and her breath raised goosebumps on his skin.
"No. Doesn't . . . hurt," he managed to gasp. He looked up into Ginny's face. She was staring at him with wide eyes, and as Harry watched, she swallowed hard, and he saw the barest flicker of her tongue as it suddenly darted out across her lips.
"That's good," she whispered. Her hands flitted above him as if she was suddenly not sure where they should go. "Let me . . . ummm . . . this arm is scraped up too," she finally said.
Ginny threaded her fingers in his and lifted Harry's hand into her lap. Lightly, her hand traced up and down his arm, and Harry heard her murmuring healing spells. With each place she touched, his skin got cooler for a second and then tingled with warmth. Slowly, the sting faded away, but Harry couldn't stop himself from shivering anyway as Ginny's hand traveled the length of his arm once more – from shoulder down to the tips of his fingers, with the barest of pressure.
Harry closed his eyes as Ginny's hands found his torso again, ghosting across the muscles of his stomach. He tensed automatically, then groaned as the bruising ache coursed through him.
Ginny's voice was quiet in his ear. "This is going to hurt a little more, I think,"
"S'okay," said Harry heavily, his eyes still closed. His limbs felt heavy, and he didn't want to move. He felt Ginny scoot down towards his waist and he held his breath in anticipation of the feel of her soft hand running over his skin. He barely heard her next whisper.
"I'll try to make it as painless as possible."
And then her mouth was on his chest, feathering softness over his skin right behind the cooling and warmth of her healing charms. Her hands were moving lower, caressing his bruised skin as the magic sunk into his muscles and bones, dulling the ache in them.
Harry groaned softly to himself as Ginny's lips and tongue moved to his stomach and one hand brushed gently through the thatch of dark hair that disappeared into his pants. He had no idea anymore if he still felt pain; his entire body was alive with want, and the throbbing in his limbs only fueled his desire.
He shifted under her mouth; now that much of the pain was gone, Harry was no longer able to hide his arousal. "Ginny . . ." he began, hoarsely.
Ginny's hand brushed across his erection. Her lips paused in their journey towards his hip and Harry felt her breath coming in faster, warm gasps against his skin.
"What . . . do the . . . rules say about . . . interrupting work if you're hurt?" Her voice was rough, her breathing as ragged as his. She brushed her hand against him again and then stopped right on top of the swelling bulge in his pants.
"I mean," she panted. "Is that one of the exceptions to not visiting you at your office?"
"I'm not at my office," mumbled Harry. He tried to gather his thoughts, but his brain wouldn't focus when Ginny's hand grew more forceful, grasping him firmly and pushing down. "Ohhh," he sighed. "I . . . think it counts as . . . being spontaneous."
"I think . . . I should check your legs," mumbled Ginny against his hip. "How do they feel?"
"They're . . . tingling," said Harry honestly. His whole body was tingling now.
"You shouldn't move," said Ginny, her hand now slowly moving at the waist of Harry's track pants. "The healing charms need to set."
Harry couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to. The heaviness in his arms and legs had spread to the rest of his body, but it wasn't numbing. Instead, he was barely aware of them anymore; they were nothing more than anchors holding onto the desire that surged through his belly and down between his legs.
Ginny eased down his pants until they were bunched around his ankles. She paused for a long moment at the waistband of his boxers before gently slipping her hand inside and caressing his length. Harry jerked involuntarily and hissed in pain as his muscles protested. Ginny froze, and then withdrew her hand.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea, right now," she said.
"No, it's fine," Harry replied quickly. "It's helping. I promise. I'll keep still."
Ginny still looked doubtful and Harry captured one of her hands in his. "Please," he said. "It . . . . feels really good. Even with the pain." He squeezed her hand. "It makes the pain . . . bearable."
Ginny nodded at him, then smiled. "Just try to keep still."
She put her hand back, but on top of his boxers this time, rubbing gently. Then she leaned down and her tongue found the crease between his stomach and hip; she slowly worked her way lower, pushing down the fabric as she did so, until Harry's boxers no longer covered anything of importance.
Ginny looked up from her ministrations. "This doesn't count as 'fully naked', does it?" Her tongue dipped lower and flicked against his balls and Harry couldn't answer her other than to mumbled a garbled, "Muh uhh."
Ginny must have understood Harry's attempt to say "no", because she pushed Harry's boxers all the way down past his knees and then moved to kneel between his legs. She put both hand on his penis and held them there for several seconds until his trembling eased.
"Relax," she said, beginning to run her hands up and down his length. "And don't move."
Harry forced himself to stay still as her hands slowly found their rhythm against him. She worked slowly, her soft hands firm but not frantic on him, allowing him to get used to each new sensation slowly before she increased her speed or changed her position.
Her thumb brushed gently across his tip and then circled the head and Harry shivered in enjoyment. She worked her hands down his length, constricting them as his arousal grew, grasping his base with a new pressure. Harry groaned to himself. This made hitting the tree worth it.
The minor throbs of ache Harry felt whenever some new jolt of pleasure moved through him barely bothered him at all; he'd never been attended to so carefully before, and the chance to be able to focus on every minute detail of Ginny's hands on him was delicious. His own hands found her hair but instead of tangling them in her tresses he stroked as gently as she did, running his hands lightly over her head and then down her face. He tilted her chin up so he could look at her. Ginny's face was flushed and her teeth captured her bottom lip as she stared back at him, not speaking. Her hands did not stop their pulsing, up and down, and Harry was finding it harder and harder not to thrust back. Ginny gave his penis a particularly firm stroke and Harry groaned with the pleasure of it, lifting his hips just enough to push against her hand.
Her eyes sparkled then and she raised her eyebrows before finally breaking eye contact with Harry and lowering her head to his waist. One hand left him and moved to cup his sac and Harry stilled until he felt Ginny's warm, soft mouth enclose him completely.
"Ahhhh," he groaned as she began to move up and down again, one hand still at the base, guiding him as she moved him inside her mouth and down almost into her throat. Harry propped himself up on one arm to watch. There was almost nothing as sexy as the sight of Ginny's head between his legs; red hair mingling with black, his penis bobbing in and out of sight as she moved above him.
Harry had been hardening slowly under Ginny's hand, but once he was in her mouth his erection grew with almost forceful intensity and he couldn't stop himself from pushing up into her. Ginny had stretched herself out and was pushing her own center against Harry's leg and as he watched, feeling his own pleasure mounting almost to the brink.
Dimly, Harry registered that maybe there was something else he should be doing, but then Ginny pulled back to purse her lips against the head of his penis, pushing her head down and letting him force her mouth open wide enough for him to enter. The thought flew right out of his mind and it took him long seconds to get it back.
"Wait, Ginny," he finally gasped beneath her.
Ginny stopped and looked up, concerned. "Is it too much? Am I hurting you?" she asked.
"No . . . it's wonderful. I just wondered . . . do you want to . . . you know? Cause I don't think it will hurt too much, if you're on top."
A memory flitted through his mind with his words. He'd always loved it when Ginny was on top when they had sex; it had become something of a joke between them, with Harry trying to come up with funnier and stranger reasons to be on the bottom. He had spent plenty of time on top himself, but the equality hadn't stopped them from always laughing about Harry's newest plan.
An instant of . . . something flashed across Ginny's features and Harry knew she was remembering too. A second later the smile was back though, and Ginny gave him a knowing look.
"So this is your newest plan to get me on top, huh, Potter? Crashing into a bloody tree?"
Harry shrugged and tried to look pathetic. "Well, whatever works, right?" He turned serious. "But only if you want to."
Ginny was already pushing down her own track pants and knickers, kicking them to one side. "Oh, I definitely want to. Lean back," she said authoritatively, pushing lightly on his chest until he was flat again on the ground. She straddled his waist, one hand buried in her curls and rubbing lightly. She must have gotten close to ready while performing fellatio because after less than a minute, she raised herself up until she was able to position the tip of Harry penis at her opening. Grasping it in her hand, she made a few light swipes around her folds before sighing and lowering herself onto him.
Harry sighed too; it felt so good. And Ginny was moving up and down, her hands splayed on his chest, pushing down hard and then stopping, rocking her pelvis with the tiniest of movements until he felt almost wild with ecstasy. Slowly, he began to rock his own hips, rising up to meet her downward thrusts. His hands moved up to grab both of hers, interlocking their fingers and pushing their palms against each other.
"Are . . . you . . . in pain?" Ginny panted. Her eyes were dilated and her hair tousled around her head and for a moment, Harry was struck by how very . . . beautiful . . .she looked. Get a grip, Potter, he told himself. He concentrated on the sensation of Ginny moving up and down around him.
"Not even a little," he managed. "But . . . I'm close."
In response, Ginny loosened on of her hands and moved it down to her clit, rubbing in circles and moaning lightly, even as her thrusts became faster and harder. Harry tensed every muscle in his body, using the immediate ache to help him focus on anything except his pending climax.
"Please . . . Ginny . . . Oh Merlin . . ." He didn't think he was going to be able to hold on, but suddenly Ginny groaned and Harry felt her thighs clench around him in a familiar rhythm and he let go.
Ginny collapsed on his chest; from where he lay, Harry could see her head rising and falling with each of his breaths. But just as he was going to wrap his arms around her and enjoy the weight, she gingerly rolled off him and grabbed her wand. She first waved it in the complex pattern he knew was the contraceptive spell for "immediately after," then, she cleaned them both off and pulled up her knickers and pants.
"Do you need help? How do you feel?" she asked.
Harry still didn't want to move. "I feel . . . pretty wonderful," he admitted, enjoying the smile that flitted across Ginny's face.
"Me too," she said. But then she bit her lip and looked behind where Harry lay. "But, don't you, umm, need to do . . . something, with that Bludger? She pointed, and Harry twisted around to see the ball, still laying quietly about a foot away.
"Right. I do. I do need to do . . . something, with it." Harry wasn't used to having to think so much after sex. But Ginny was right. He wasn't seriously hurt, and Kingsley needed to know what had happened. With a quiet groan, he let Ginny pull him to his feet. He was stiff, but not terribly so.
"Your healing charms are working," he commented as they walked to where their brooms lay. Miraculously, his had not been seriously damaged by the crash. "I barely feel a thing."
"Maybe it wasn't just the charms," Ginny said coyly, before throwing her leg over her broom and lifting off into the sky.
Definitely not just the charms, Harry thought to himself, following her.