But I Won't Do That

Ginny crept through the halls of Hogwarts. It was incredibly quiet, and Ginny was under the Invisibility Cloak so she wouldn’t be caught, but she had no fears of that; clutched in her left hand was the marauder’s map, and it showed that no teachers were anywhere near her.

When she reached a certain landing, anyone who could see her would have been puzzled by her actions; she walked across the landing, then turned and walked back the other way – then did the same twice more. But her silent steps were not uncertain, as they would be if she’d lost her way – rather, they were incredibly sure, as though she’d done the same thing many times before. After the third repetition she stopped and turned to the door that had suddenly appeared in the wall beside her. Twisting the knob, she slipped through the door, shutting it behind her with a soft click.

Once inside, Ginny removed the cloak, and padded softly over to the bed on the far side of the room. As she approached, one of the figures looked up and saw her; he slipped quickly off the bed and began hastily pulling on his clothes. Ginny fought down a powerful surge of jealousy. There’s no point, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. It’s what he needs, that’s all that matters.

She stopped halfway to the bed and waited. The other figure finished doing up his belt and walked silently toward her, carrying his shoes as he went so as not to wake the other boy still sleeping. When he got close enough, Ginny whispered: “How is he?”

Draco scowled at her in exasperation. “Why do you all insist on asking me that ever single night?” He hissed back harshly. “You know perfectly well how he is, he’s a bloody wreck!”

Ginny stomped on an angry retort. She still couldn’t stand Malfoy. “I’m worried, just like you are, Malfoy! What do you except me to ask? ‘Have a good day, Draco?’”

Draco took a deep breath to calm himself; otherwise he’d start shouting, and that certainly wouldn’t help. “I thought it was Lovegood’s turn tonight.”

“It was, but she was exhausted, so I offered to take over for her.” Luna had been more than exhausted; she’d been so drained that she’d spent the afternoon in the hospital wing drinking revitalizing potions. Ginny knew Luna was giving everything she had and was slightly concerned Luna wouldn’t know where to stop. But in truth, Ginny wasn’t sure she knew where to stop, herself.

There was movement from the bed, and Ginny and Draco glanced over, holding their breaths, but it was just sleep-movement. When Ginny looked back at Draco, he was still staring at the bed, looking both furious and guilty. “I did that to him,” he whispered.

“No you didn’t, Draco,” Ginny replied wearily, in a tone that made it clear she was sick of the old argument. “No more than anyone else.”

“You don’t even know half the things I did to him,” Draco muttered. “Even he doesn’t know some of it…” he sighed, but quietly. “Right. Well, I’m off. He’s pretty worn out-” he smirked at Ginny’s scowl- “so he shouldn’t wake. Unless he has another nightmare.”

Ginny just nodded, not sure she could reply without starting another fight, and handed the Invisibility Cloak to Draco. Then she walked silently to the bed, put down her belongings and removed her robes, revealing some loose pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt. Not wanting to upset the bed, she sat in the chair beside it. She pulled out her wand and cast a quick Revival Charm on herself to keep her awake; it was after midnight, but she couldn’t sleep while she was there.

Ginny kept herself busy for the next couple hours with some of the homework she’d been neglecting. She wrote an essay for Professor Binns, and practiced a few wand movements for Charms, using a quill instead of her wand so as not to accidentally float something or change its color.

She was debating whether to start her essay for Potions when a whisper from the bed made her head snap up. “Draco?”

She immediately clambered onto the bed and met the green eyes with her own. “No, Harry, Draco left a while ago.”

“Ginny?” Harry glanced around, blinking in confusion; the covers slipped down, revealing his bare chest. “What time is it?”

“Around two,” Ginny said, slipping under the covers.

“Oh.” Harry looked lost. “My dreams…sometimes I’m not sure when they start, or when they end.”

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and pulled him close. “You’re awake, Harry,” she said softly. “There are people who love you here.”

Harry stiffened. “A lot fewer, as time goes on.”

“No, Harry,” Ginny said firmly, forcing him to look into her eyes. “We’ll always be here for you. I will always be here.” Ginny swallowed and fought back tears. “I’ll do anything for you, Harry,” she whispered. “Please believe me.”

“I know you will, Ginny,” Harry answered, and pulled her into a kiss. His tongue ran across her lips and she parted them willingly, kissing him back with all the passion that seven years of longing could cause. Her hand trailed down his cheek and along his neck; then over his chest, feeling the increased heartbeat.

Harry pulled her closer, sliding one hand down to her pajama bottoms and slipping inside them to cup her bum. She pressed against him, encouraging him, never breaking the kiss. Harry circled his hand around her slim body, still inside the band of her clothes, until his fingertips brushed against the curls and made her gasp. He pulled back and met her eyes then, asking, as he always did, for permission; and as always, Ginny nodded.

Harry pushed the sheets down and shoved off his boxers, and helped Ginny out of her clothes. She pushed him gently onto his back and lay next to him, facing the other way. She wrapped her long, thin fingers around Harry’s half-erect cock, and he stiffened, realizing what she was about to do. “Ginny, you don’t have to-”

“I know, Harry,” Ginny answered, turning her head to look at him. “I want to. I don’t have to do anything, do I?”

For some reason Harry flushed deeply, and wouldn’t meet Ginny’s eyes. But Ginny knew how much it hurt Harry to admit he needed anything – it was up to her and the others to provide it, whether he would admit the need or not. Taking a deep breath, Ginny leaned over and took the head of Harry’s cock in her mouth. She knew from the first time she’d tried that there was only so far she could go with this – she was a small girl, and Harry was rather large – but Harry liked it, and that was all she cared about. Harry hissed as Ginny’s tongue circled around him, and then he gasped as Ginny dipped her head, taking as much of Harry into her mouth as she could. He buried one hand in her hair and clutched at her as she slid her tongue up his entire length, then took him in again.

Ginny whined when Harry’s other hand slipped between her legs and started stroking her. She was already wet, and two of Harry’s fingers slid into her with no resistance. She quickly lost her concentration as Harry stroked her, pulling his fingers out long enough to rub the moisture over her clit, and then pushing them back in. Ginny tried valiantly to continue what she was doing, but Harry’s touch could almost instantly reduce her to a quivering wreck, as desperate in her need as he was.

Harry shifted suddenly, pushing Ginny onto her back and shoving his way between her legs. He pinned her wrists in one of his hands, holding them over her head. Ginny didn’t struggle at all; she gazed longingly at Harry as he positioned himself, letting him do whatever he needed to, and cried out as Harry plunged his cock into her all the way. Pleasure shot through her as Harry thrust wildly, his fingers cutting into her wrists, his other arm supporting him above her.

Ginny wrapped her legs around Harry and pulled him into her, meeting his thrusts. Now she struggled, tried ineffectually to pull free, pleaded, begged Harry to never stop, to love her, to need her…

Harry growled and came inside Ginny. His grip loosened on her wrists and her hands shot for his back, forcing him to keep thrusting even after he’d been spent; Ginny finally ground out her own release, at last allowing Harry to collapse on top of her as she mewled and shook.

Harry buried his face in Ginny’s neck, and her trembling arms stroked up and down his back soothingly. Ginny noticed dark spots on her wrists and winced as she realized Harry’s grip had bruised her. Then she saw several spots on Harry’s neck, near the back. She raised her head for a better look, and saw that they were teeth marks.

Ginny bit her lip until it bled to hold back her sobs, but a few tears managed to leak out. She hated this part of her life as much as she longed for it; hated sharing Harry, hated knowing he needed more than she had to give.

After Harry had witnessed his Godfather’s death at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, he’d entered a downward spiral of fear, pity and self-doubt. Having been forced to witness two deaths that were at least indirectly his own fault, and then learning of the prophecy foretelling either his death or his murder of Voldemort, had been the final straw. Any confidence he’d had had been completely shattered, and by the middle of his Sixth year Harry had hit bottom, leaving him little more than an emotional cripple.

His closest friends – and amazingly, one of his worst enemies – had come together to bring Harry a bit of peace and comfort. They had all quickly learned that Harry responded best to physical comfort – craving it, in fact, like an addict. Not truly surprising, considering how little he’d had in his life.

At first they’d been reluctant to allow Harry to become dependent on them, but Harry was too brittle to deny…and they all loved him. It hadn’t been long before all six of them had made an unspoken pact: they would give Harry what he needed.

It burned Ginny painfully that Harry sought comfort outside her arms – with Draco Malfoy of all people; with her own brother, and Hermione, and Luna and even Neville. But when she was in his arms, when his warm body was pressed against her, none of it mattered. He loved her, desperately, and she loved him, and he could find solace with her. That was what counted.

Harry raised himself up, and the fear was back in his eyes; fear that he’d gone too far, that he’d asked too much…so before he could say anything, Ginny said to him “I love you, Harry.”

And he cried, and begged her to say it again. “Please Ginny, I need to hear it….I need to know.”

So she repeated it, over and over, like a mantra, whispering “I love you. I love you, Harry. I love you,” until he finally drifted off to sleep.