The Death of a Soul

Warnings: HET in chapters One and Two.


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Chapter Two

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It took Harry several tries to finally convince Ginny to go back into the castle. She had insisted they stayed outside because walking back in would guarantee the end of their relationship. Harry assured her over and over that nothing could possibly destroy that. He wouldn’t let it. Ginny still didn’t believe him, but she allowed him to half-drag her back up to the common room. She stopped ever so often to plead with Harry again, saying it wasn’t too late. When they stood before the Gryffindor portrait, Ginny tried one last time.

“Harry, please. Please, if you love me, let’s go right now. You have enough money. We could go far away, and no one will ever find us,” she cried.

“Ginny! Listen to what you’re saying. You know I can’t do that.”

She heard his words, but was too distraught to listen. “Please, Harry. Please. I don’t want to lose you,” she pleaded.

Harry quickly took her in his arms, and she latched on tightly.

He stroked her soft curly hair, and whispered, “Ginny. I love you. I truly do. But we can’t run away from whatever might happen. You know how much I hate seeing you cry, but I have responsibilities and so do you…”

The young redhead nodded into Harry’s chest. “I know, Harry, and I do understand. It’s just… I’m afraid.”

Harry pulled away, and cupped her tear-streaked face. “Why, Ginny? Why do you think that we’ll break up?” he asked for the fifth time that day.

She slowly shook her head. “I know we will. I don’t know how I know, only that I know.”

She clung on to him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Harry whispered the password, and gently entered into the common room with her by his side. Sounds of laughter rang through the air, and it only silenced briefly when all eyes shifted to the young couple.

“Harry? Where were you two?” Fred asked laughing.

Fred and George had been asked by Professor McGonagall herself if they would come back to Hogwarts, and tutor a few of the first years in Transfigurations.

“Yeah, mate. Professor McGonagall has been here three times looking for you,” Ron explained.

“We told her you were probably busy,” George said with a wink.

Harry put his finger to his mouth, and indicated with his head toward Ginny who was buried in Harry’s jumper. Looks of curiosity came from everyone there, but Harry shook his head once with a frown to stop the impending questions. He made his way over to the over-stuffed chair and sat down, placing his girlfriend between his legs. She kept silent save for a few sobs.

“So, Harry,” Fred began. “We were just trying to guess what Snape’s Life-Debt will be.”

“Yeah. I said he’ll make you clean his lab with your tongue,” Seamus Finnegan chimed in.

“Boooring...” Dean Thomas replied. “I think he’ll make Harry give up four hundred points of Gryffindor's.”

“And I told you he can’t do that,” Ron quipped.

“Besides, you know Dumbledore wouldn’t allow that,” George said. “Though I know I would,” he joked.

“Professor Dumbledore, George,” Hermione spoke up, clearly disgusted.

Ignoring the young witch, he continued. “I said Snape will turn you into his slave.”

“Yeah. His eternal slave,” Seamus added.

Bouts of laughter erupted.

“Wait wait wait! His eternal SEX slave!” Fred cried out.

A deafening silence overcame the room followed by a chorus of, “Eeurghhh!”

“That is not the image I wanted to think about, Fred. Thanks,” Ron snorted.

Fred started giggling, and soon the others did, as well. Hermione kept a close watch on her friend, Ginny, who started shaking uncontrollably.

“Honestly!” Hermione spat, jumping up. “Can you not see what your mindless chatter is doing to her?”

All eyes fell upon Ginny who was being hugged possessively by Harry. Soft mumbles of apologies went out to her, but she still couldn’t stop trembling.

“Ginny?” Hermione whispered.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall entered, and the room instantly became tense.

She looked over to Harry, then down to the small frame of Ginny Weasley.

“Mr Potter. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape wish to speak to you first thing tomorrow morning.”

He gave her a soft nod of the head along with a quiet “Yes, Professor,” and she left without another word being spoken. As soon as the portrait door closed, Ginny jumped off Harry and ran upstairs.

“Ginny! Wait!” And Harry ran up after her.

Everyone watched the two disappear until Hermione cleared her throat.

“I hope you are all proud of yourselves,” she hissed before storming out of the common room.

The room became eerily quiet again.


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“Ginny?” Harry whispered through the small crack of the girl’s open door.

Obviously, she left the door open hoping Harry would follow.

“Ginny, I know that…” he started as he sat down on her bed.

The young Gryffindor witch sat up, and flung her arms around her boyfriend.

“Please stay with me tonight, Harry,” she begged.

Harry was shocked. Of all of the people at Hogwarts, she would’ve been the last one to knowingly break a forbidden school rule.

Before Harry could answer, she pleaded again. “Please, Harry.”


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Harry timidly escorted Ginny into the seventh year boy’s room. It took a while before the roaring, teasing crowd would give him an answer, but after ten minutes of jokes, they finally conceded. Sitting on his bed, Harry gently lowered Ginny on to her back whilst kissing her softly. She pulled him on top of her, and flung her legs around his.

“Ginny,” Harry gasped, rising up to his elbows.

She reached up and locked her fingers behind his head, rising up to meet his lips.

“Ginny, stop. Wait.”

“No, Harry. No. If we wait any longer it will be too late.”

“But really, love, I want this first time to be special.”

Soft hazel eyes gazed up at him, sending a warm and loving rush throughout his body. She ran her fingertips over his lips and smiled.

“It will be special.”


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Harry Potter woke the next morning with a smile on his face. Never in his life had he experienced such a wonderful feeling such as this. He rolled over to say good morning only to be greeted by a pillow with a small dent in it. He took hold of it, and covered his face, taking in her scent. Of course she’d be gone, but he still had last night’s memories.

It was better than he ever dreamed. She had tasted so sweet, and smelled like vanilla, just like the pillow she’d lain on did. He closed his eyes, and softly smiled thinking of her tender affections. They had seen each other naked before, and had come so close in the past until they had to stop, both restraining themselves. The couple had agreed to wait till they were properly married, but secretly knew they would give into their passion sooner or later. Harry never once imagined it would be this soon.

When the moment had arrived, both froze, and stared into each other’s eyes as Harry pressed against her. Ginny was already prepared, thanks to Harry, so when he entered her, they closed their eyes and gasped in pleasure at this new, intense and all-consuming feeling. Both stilled for a moment, savouring the sensations, and the knowledge that they were each other’s first. It didn’t last as long as they had hoped, but they still had all night. And they used each minute afterwards with as much passion as the beginning, if not more. Thank the Gods Harry put up a Silencing Spell.


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Harry leaned his head back, and watched the warm water fall down from the shower head. He sighed as the liquid flowed down his body, and he lightly stroked his chest, remembering her delicate skin and how it seemed to flush every time he touched her. His muscles were a little sore from last night, yet he was also so relaxed. Ginny had been right. It was special.

Harry finished his shower and towelled off, smiling all the while. He glanced at the clock while he dressed, and saw that he had a good half an hour before the ‘meeting’. Thoughts of Ginny filled his head again, and he realised there was no one else he’d rather spend that short time with. He went downstairs, and began looking for the young girl within the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be found. Harry spotted Hermione talking with Ron, and made his way through the loud, conversing students. He tugged gently on her sleeve, expecting a knowing smile. But she wasn’t smiling. Her eyes told Harry that she had been crying.

“Hermione?” he asked timidly.

The bushy-haired witch bit her lower lip as she looked at him, then concealed her face in Ron’s school robes.

“Ron…What’s…?”

“She’s not here, Harry. She left earlier with Professor McGonagall.”

“What! Why?”

The other Gryffindors hushed, and turned their attention to The Boy-Who-Lived. His heart sank to his stomach, fearing the worst.

Ron gulped and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“She’s not…expelled, is she?”

Ron’s eyes quickly diverted to his twin brothers for help.

“We don’t know, Harry, but McGonagall and Dumbledore found out about last night,” Fred intervened.

“What? How?”

No one spoke. Harry’s glare flew upon each student, demanding an answer.

“Mr Potter. You will come with me now,” Professor McGonagall said sharply.

All the young Gryffindors jumped except Harry.

He muttered “Fine,” and pushed his way through the crowd, not stopping once. He marched on ahead in front of his teacher, knowing he just angered her further. But he didn’t care. If anyone was to be blamed it should be him, not Ginny. He stood waiting for Professor McGonagall in front of the giant gargoyle, but she was already there beside him.

“Mr Potter, I am very disappointed in you and Miss Weasley,” she said curtly.

Harry said nothing. He only glared at the tall golden creature. He heard her give a frustrated sigh, then opened the stairway.

“Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you.”

Harry didn’t even bother to look back at his teacher as he climbed the moving stairs. He walked briskly to Dumbledore’s door, and loudly sighed before knocking.

“Enter, Mr Potter,” a deep voice came from behind the door.

Harry held his head up high as he opened, and closed the large, wooden door, and crossed the room.

“Sit down, Mr Potter.”

The young wizard stood tall and stoic.

“Please, Harry.”

Harry stayed in one place for a moment longer before giving in and sitting down in front of the man’s desk.

“I am sure you are aware by now that I know of last night’s activities,” he began.

“Professor, you cannot punish Ginny for this. I was the…”

Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him. “Unfortunately, the appropriate actions have already taken place, Harry. Mr Weasley arrived earlier, and had consented to our decision. In fact it was his…”

“What? Where is she?” he shouted, springing to his feet.

“It was his idea for the final punishment, given the circumstances,” he finished. “Please, Harry, sit back down.”

“No! Where is she? What circumstances?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Only Mr Weasley can say where she is now. Even his other children aren’t allowed to discuss this with anyone. Least of all you. I’m sorry, Harry, but as her father, he has the final say.”

“Then I’ll speak to him myself,” he spat.

He turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when Albus shouted after him.

“Harry! You will come back here at once.”

In all the time Harry had known Professor Dumbledore, not once had he raised his voice to him. Reluctantly, he walked back over standing in front of him with his head lowered.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” the boy whispered. He glanced up at Albus, then back down again. “It’s just... It’s so unfair.”

The older wizard nodded, then quietly said, “I know, Harry, but it’s not up to us. We had originally planned to punish Miss Weasley…Ginny, in a different manner.”

Harry gazed up at his teacher with hope, but it was shot down with a slow shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

His eyes fell to the floor again. Suddenly, Harry’s legs gave out, and he fell backwards onto the chair. A brief silence passed between them before Albus spoke again.

“Now there is a matter of your punishment.”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready,” he whispered.

Harry waited patiently for it but Dumbledore remained quiet. The young wizard peered over to him through his fringe only to find the older man’s eyes focused on the farthest wall.

“Professor?” he asked softly.

Albus closed his eyes, and it appeared as if he was having a conflict of emotions. Clearly this would be bad.

“Harry,” he began after he cleared his throat. “Your punishment has been overruled given the present circumstances.” Albus said that statement like he had rehearsed it like a line in a play. And there was that word again.

“Sir? I don’t understand. Why would my punishment be overruled? And what exactly is the …”

“Professor Snape has made his Life-Debt known.”

Harry’s green eyes became dark with fear. This was definitely going to be bad.

“He demands your hand in marriage.”


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