As Harry climbed the stairs he began to think of the different things he could say in an apology and how they would help or worsen the situation. Nothing seemed to come to mind and he felt a twang of fear. He'd rather face the Basilisk right now.
As he reached the common room he encountered a very familiar face, that of the Fat Lady.
"Oh! Harry Potter!" She squealed in her soprano, fluttering her eyelashes at him and nudging the woman in the portrait to the right of hers "Hey, hey! It's Harry Potter! The choooosen one, Fran, look! I always knew it, since I first saw him, as a little tacker, Fran, I knew it. He was going to defeat You-Know-Who! Or I should say Voldemort!" She chuckled a long hearty sound and looked back sweetly at Harry "Now what can I do for you, dear?"
"Uhhh, Mimbilus mimbletonia?" He muttered the password hopefully.
Her face looked disappointed, "Of course, of course, my dear, in you go.." And she swung open to allow Harry into the common room.
As he entered, he saw Ginny reading a book, a biography of the Weird Sisters her mother had given her for Christmas, and did not look up as he entered. He gulped back his fear of her fiery temper and spoke up.
"Um, Ginny?" He faltered and looked at her trying to pull off the puppy-dog look, thinking: Hey, it works for Ron! He stuck out his bottom lip and widened his eyes for maximum innocence.
"Harry," she muttered looking up briefly from her book and raised one eyebrow, "I have five brothers who all use that same face. I'm immune" she looked back down at her book. She stiffened and quietly corrected herself, "Four brothers"
Harry's face fell as he realised how selfish he was being, he didn't realise how affected his own girlfriend was by the outcome of the battle. Her own brother died and he was acting like the world revolved only around his losses.
He softened and sat down beside her chair and put his hand on her arm, his face serious.
"Tell me everything" He whispered to her.
"What?"
"We're only fighting because I'm too ignorant to get whats making you sad, and we never talk, Ginny, please just open up to me?" He thought he sounded like a girl. But it was too late now, he was punching himself in his head, but he could only sit and wait for her to tell him he sounded super-gay.
"Look Harry, we don't need to talk about it, it's fine" She smiled at him sadly, and he confusedly watched her far-away expression turn into one that he recognised fully. It was her seduction-face. Her lips were pouted and her eyes were half open, her long lashes in full view and her body leaned towards his and she pushed her chest against his.
"Your dorm, or mine?" She purred, her words dripping with lust, lust that Harry didn't currently share but he sighed internally, knowing that if he refused she would think he was off her. And that would just lead to more problems.
"Mine." He tried to imitate her intimate tone and she led him by the hand to the deserted boy's dormitory.
"Babe, I'm not quite in the mood right this momen-" He began softly as she started undressing.
"Well, we're going to have to change that, now, aren't we?" She grinned, and he couldn't deny how good she looked with nothing but her blue bra and matching skimpy underwear. He turned red and let her push him onto his bed and she kissed his lips, then his neck, then nibbled on his collarbone while removing his T-shirt and started downwards. She kissed him all the way to his navel and undid the zip of his jeans with her teeth, and he felt his hard-on pressing against the moving zip. Ginny slid down his boxers and grasped his boner with both hands. She started to lick his dick slowly, and only at the tip, teasing him as he began to breathe more heavily.
"Oh god, Gin" "D-don't stop there..." "Ahh that's it" Were some of the exclamations said within the next few minutes. Before Harry knew it, her whole mouth was on it, she made rapid movements on it, up and down and swishing against him with her darting pink tongue.
"Don't come yet, baby, I want..." She didn't finish her sentence, and he restrained himself from finishing. She straddled him, both hands on his chest, her underwear off, and her hips moved wildly. His hands found the clutch of her bra that held her soft, large breasts in place and undid it. She started to seize up, her nails digging into his arms. She bit her lip, a telltale sign she was going to climax. As she did, she yelled out shrilly and started panting incredulously. He felt like he was going to come and started thrusting harder and she yowled and moaned in ecstasy and he groaned and closed his eyes only for them to flicker open and not to see his girlfriend, but a pale body, toned, and a swish of short, shiny blonde hair.
"...What...the...fuck?..." he was shocked, he recognised that blonde hair. But it couldn't be. Not at all.
He didn't stop though, he didn't want to. If anything, he was more turned on by this completely unusual vision. He came long and hard, partnered with a satisfied moan, and proceeded to be confused and worried. He was so shocked by what he saw, and even more by his reaction to it that he didn't even hear Ginny breathe about how amazing that was. And it was amazing.
At that moment the dormitory door opened before either Ginny or Harry had a moment to move and in walked Hermione and Ron.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLINS LEFT TESTICLE-?" Ron roared, and was promptly steered out by a blushing Hermione, who Harry mouthed a silent "thank you" to. Ginny glared at Harry.
"You didn't put a fucking locking charm on the door, did you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Harry took the defensive.
"Oi! It was your idea to do it in the dorms! What did you think would happen!" Harry hissed
"Don't give me that SHIT, Harry James Potter!" She shrieked, "I've never been so embarrased in my life! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"It's not my fault, stop being so crazy!" He yelled, irate.
Ginny growled at him and fled the dormitory, desperately hoping not to run into her brother again.
Harry put his head in his hands and sat back down on his bed. This relationship is weird, he thought, fucking weird. I don't get girls at all. As he thought he gulped. Maybe the blonde hair didn't belong to the blonde boy he despised. It was probably... He struggled to think of a girl with that white-blonde shade of hair. He thought of how toned the blonde's cautious body was, probably from Quidditch. He thought of the flick of his hair and the flicker of a grey-coloured eye. He thought of the expression of pleasure and lust. He thought of a dead puppy, because he felt himself, to his horror, getting hard again.
