These Wrongs I've Done
Author: Otaku Neko Ninja Miko Tenshi
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine; however, all original work is mine. The quotes at the beginning of each one-shot are taken from Vocaloid songs corresponding to the chapter's sin.
—For The Sorting Hat's Challenge (question 7); The Dance Competition (merengue); Het vs Slash Competition (HarryGinny); The Seven Deadly Sins Competition (Lust); The Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge (Eros); Harry Potter Chapter Competition (Aunt Marge's Big Mistake); Ye Old Icelandic Sayings Challenge (#13); Teen Wolf Quote Challenge (random); Pick a Card, Any Card Challenge (Jack of Hearts); The "As Many As You Want Comp.; As Much As You Can Competition.
Happy Halloween!—
WARNING: UNDERAGE DRINKING, DEPRESSION, FOUL LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, NON-CONSENSUAL KISSING, PERVERSION, IMPLIED SEX, UNDERAGE SEX, UNDERAGE PREGNANCY, TEENAGE LUST.
LUST: Lost in Translation
Once the clothes come off, there's no return to reality
Dumbledore was dead.
"Firewhisky and a room," Harry muttered lowly, tossing three Galleons over. The silent bartender at the Hog's Head wordlessly poured the stranger a shot, scooping up the money lithely. Ignoring the sub-par hygiene level, Harry knocked back the alcohol – the burn was like Fiendfyre in his neck, and he wanted more.
"Scotch."
Chink.
"...Harry?"
Ginny stared forlornly at robed figure, watching them roll their shot glass. The man working the bar didn't even glance at her as he served Harry with a mug of brown on the rocks; the redheaded girl opened her mouth to call him again, but the sixteen-year-old suddenly rose and strode away with his drink.
"Harry-!"
She grabbed desperately at his clothing, but a sharp swat batted her hands away; Ginny glanced at the bartender hopelessly, but he just gazed back blankly. Harry staggered upstairs to where he had reserved a room, and, not knowing what else to do, Ginny followed him in.
"Go away."
Ginny shook her head and reached out to touch his shoulder. "Harry, stop this. I know that ever since Dumbledore-"
"Go away!" he roared, turning on her; spittle struck her in the face, and she flinched at the volume of his voice. Harry span away without warning, stalking into his rented room and slamming the door. Ginny stopped it and joined him.
"I'm waiting."
He didn't say a thing, and Ginny felt rage lick at her insides.
"I build this relationship up," she began, voice quivering as her eyeballs burned with salt "Brick by fucking brick, and this is how you repay me?"
No reaction still. Ginny laughed crudely.
"Is that how it is?" she taunted hollowly "The Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter, knocked by the death of one old man?"
Harry's eyes trained onto hers. "You take that back."
A sick pleasure curled her lips as she clung onto that sense of recognition. She'd put up for his crap for too long.
She leaned in slowly, lips shaping the two syllables: "Make me."
Her hand jumped out and grabbed his untouched scotch; she gulped down the poison, her throat screaming at the dry pain, but her pride swelled greatly at the thunderstruck on Harry's face. Her work was done.
Ginny didn't make two steps before she was swung back. Her hands bolted up automatically, but instead of reaching for her face, Harry's palms grabbed at her hips. Yanking her towards him, he slammed the girl's front against his; she yelped, but Harry wasted no time in smashing his lips against hers. Ginny squawked when her wand dropped to the ground, and she shoved at his shoulders, but Harry held firm and pushed his mouth against hers. His tongue swept across the cleft between her lips, but then recoiled.
The Weaslette stared at him in bewilderment. "What the fuck is your problem?!"
He grabbed for her again, resistant against her clawing and kicking – she struggled violently, cursing the superior strength of her boyfriend. He slanted his lips over hers, brilliant green eyes locked with shocked brown, and for a brief moment, Ginny remembered who he had once been.
That was all he needed.
Harry loosened his embrace, relaxing his face to kiss her more gently as his lids slid shut. That mouth, so familiar, began to gingerly coax hers into opening; Ginny, stock-still, didn't stop him as his tongue slipped inside and began to stroke hers. Against her will, she moaned quietly - she could taste the alcohol on his breath, but this was the love of her life. She hesitantly withdrew, and Harry gazed into her eyes solemnly.
She knew he was sorry, so she kissed him again.
Ginny was intoxicated, and her body couldn't help but succumb to the addiction. Harry kissed her with equal passion, rotating to guide her backwards. The supple flesh of her calves hit the bed first, the impact so unexpected that she stumbled and fell back onto the sheets; her boyfriend descended upon her as she writhed.
"Harry, no," she gasped "You're drunk-"
He leant back, expression hurt. Ginny suddenly felt horrible, but this was wrong. She pushed against his chest, but her hands stilled when she felt the fine network of Seeker muscle flex under her fingertips.
"Ginny," Harry mumbled "Please, I need this..."
He leant in and kissed her softly, one hand gliding down and following the curves of her side. Ginny shivered.
'You're underage!' Her conscience screamed 'This is wrong!'
Harry separated, groaning needily at her hazy face, pleading. Ginny wet her lips nervously.
'Don't-!'
"Yes," she whispered.
Ginny awoke the next morning, sheets thrown haphazardly over her naked form; she sat up as dusty memories filtered through, and she cringed at the soreness between her legs. Her hands clutched the Hog's Head duvet against her chest when she felt a rising sense of anxiety. Something was wrong.
Palm drifting to the side, the redhead groped at the bed. Empty.
Panicking, Ginny threw off her shield and flung herself out of bed. Her head pounded with the alcohol she'd consumed the previous day as she sought out her wand; the rod had been abandoned in her early struggle last night, and she frantically grasped it.
"Accio Harry James Potter!"
A beat passed. Two...
Ginny couldn't move. Instead she stood there, staring unseeingly around for any sign of her beloved. A note:
I'm sorry.
It took her minutes to realise that she was crying, more to notice that the wails were coming from her. She sobbed hysterically on the floor, thinking of teenagers with hypnotic eyes and the gall to take advantage of someone younger.
She stopped.
As she tightened the grip on her wand, Ginny's hands shuddered for an entirely different reason.
"Deprehensio," she whimpered. The tip glowed red.
Clatter. Her wand slipped onto the ground. Horrified, Ginny pressed her hand to her stomach.
"Oh no."
(Word count: 1,000)
*Chosen prompts: brick; write about a couple that won't open up to each other; lust; write about a lustful relationship; write about someone losing their temper; 'Take these gifts and use them well'; 'When your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break... you get your best friend drunk'; Ginny/Harry, Weasley, please, Galleons, first, lips, shiver, pleading, firewhisky, upstairs, bedroom, sobbing hysterically; write about a one-night stand*
Author's note: Yay, Halloween! ...I did nothing, not even carve my Monokuma pumpkin; there was no pumpkin to carve. Me sad. Anywho, have this addition to the HP archive! I'd like to give a nod to Lucy Kent, who gave me enough time to mass-edit this to splice it down to the maximum word count. On another note, Gakupo's "The Madness of Duke Venomania" was the first Vocaloid song I listened to :D
Deprehensio is a spell I made up, being Latin for "detection"; if you didn't pick up on it, Ginny was pregnant at the end. Yes, the pacing is horrific.
Stay safe, Trick or Treat-ers,
-ONNMT