Loser

AN:/ Sorry about the long wait, I became really busy. But the chapter is long and has some minor smut. Enjoy!


Virtue

V


The next evening, Ron found himself tucked away in his room, trying to write a letter to Hermione for almost two and a half hours. There was nothing on his parchment but wobbly squiggles and a few silly caricatures of a hacked off Snape and a very unflattering rendition of Draco Malfoy.

Ron’s room door was open partway, spilling light into the dim hallway. It was getting late but Harlan and Ginny were still talking in Ginny’s room. Because there was no one around but them, as Ron’s Mum was outside taking care of some evening gardening, he could hear their conversation quite clearly.

“I wish he’d just choose them or me,” Harlan said, Ron could hear her lazily flipping through a magazine, “At least then I’d know for certain.”

“Don’t waste your life pining for him,” Ginny said, “Besides, it’s not like you could have gotten married right away, anyway.”

“I know that,” Harlan said, annoyed, “Dad wants a proper courtship.”

“That’s so ancient,” Ginny snorted, “It’s not the sixteenth century!”

“It’s just, if I know who I want to marry and know a lot about them, then why the bleeding courtship? If I’m marrying Malfoy, I’ve known him since I was eleven. We fought the Dark Lord together! It’s not like there’s a chance he’d be a Death Eater in disguise!” Harlan huffed.

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed, “You’re not marrying a perfect stranger. A courtship is just mad.”

“I think he just doesn’t want me to move out. He’s convinced I’m going to abandon him the moment I’m married,” Harlan laughed, “If I do get married, my husband is just going to have to learn to put up with my Dad being a cantankerous old bugger.”

“He rescued you from the Dursleys when you were six and saved you from a Dark Lord over a dozen times. It would be a hard act for any husband to follow,” Ginny said, “Lets not forget he’s very good at emasculating people.”

“No kidding,” Harlan said, “He swears he knows over five-hundred and seventy-five hexes that turn male genetalia into shriveled grapes.”

Ginny winced, “I bet he loves to remind certain Slytherin boys of that fact.”

Harlan giggled.

“How’s Sirius doing?” Ginny asked, “Is he going home soon?”

“Yeah,” Harlan said her voice bright, “He’s doing as well as can be expected. He still forgets who I am half the time but he’ll be leaving St. Mungo’s with Remus in the next few days. I can go visit him whenever I want then.”

“That’s good Harry,” Ginny said, “I’m glad.”

Ron tuned them out when their conversation turned to less interesting things, like which Falcon player had the nicest arse and how Honeydukes stopped making their favourite chocolate snitch flavour. It was very late when all the voices shushed in the house and Ron’s parents came in from outdoors to go to bed.

Ron himself; couldn’t seem to fall asleep.

Late at night, a loud crack of thunder woke Ron up from an almost doze. Summertime in the countryside, had thunderstorms racing across the sky in great arcs. Usually, he slept through them easily but now he was restless and had to use the loo besides.

After he staggered out of the bathroom, he noticed that there was a step ladder down the hall, the one that led into the attic. Ron huffed, if someone had left it open from earlier in the day, they were asking for a puffskein infestation in the rest of the house.

He climbed up the ladder, almost snagging his pajama trousers on the rough wood. When he scrambled into the attic room, he could see Harlan sitting on a pile of boxes, cooing at something.

“What’re you doing?” Ron said, irritably.

Harlan jumped, “Oh. Sorry I woke you up.”

Ron wandered his way over to Harlan, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Is that a ham sandwich?” Ron said, staring at her curiously.

“Yeah,” she said, “ghouls like them.”

“Why are you feeding a sodding house ghoul?” Ron said, making a face.

Harlan snorted, “Because they’re like pets, almost.”

“Pets? Are you mental?” Ron said.

Mental or not, it didn’t stop Ron from sitting on a wooden crate next to Harlan.

“There was a whole nest of them when Dad and I first moved into our house,” Harlan said, “Course, they had to be fumigated. I felt so horrible, I cried for ages. Dad made sure the exterminators left one in the attic so I wouldn’t feel so bad. Found out loads about them. They’re really quite smart and they like ham sandwiches best of all. It’s a good way to get them to do tricks.”

Ron wasn’t sure what disturbed him more, imagining Snape being called ‘Dad’ to his face, or an ugly old ghoul prancing about for Harlan in some dingy attic, probably filled with dead animal parts and potions bottles.

“You’re barmy,” Ron said.

Harlan dropped the ham sandwich by a bunch of dodgy looking boxes. A grubby, gnarled hand snatched it into the darkness. There were sounds of nibbles and snorting in the dark.

“Well, that’s that,” Harlan said, wiping her hands together, “I didn’t get him to do tricks but I think I’m getting him to warm up to me.”

Ron scoffed, “How can you tell?”

Harlan looked up at Ron’s exposed chest, tilting her head.

“I have a way with cantankerous sods,” she said, smiling slightly.

Ron flushed, “You’re not normal, that’s for certain.”

“I kind of like being weird,” Harlan said, her eyes wandering appreciatively, “You’ve got a good build. Play a lot of quidditch?”

“Just practice mostly,” Ron said fidgeting, “Didn’t bother trying out for the team.”

“Would have made a nice Keeper, I’d wager,” she commented, her pale fingers reached out and gently touched his abdomen.

Ron willed himself not to flinch. There was no way he would back down from some Slytherin tart; Girl Who Lived and savior of the wizarding world not withstanding.

“I didn’t have time,” Ron blurted.

“Time?” Harlan snorted, “Outside of what? Getting sloshed with Seamus?”

Ron puffed up with irritation. If she thought she could play a Hermione on him, she was sorely mistaken. But the words that came out of her mouth next, were totally unexpected.

“You deserve better,” she said nervously, as if telling him a secret.

Ron’s jaw dropped open. However, it snapped shut immediately when her hand rested near the top of his thigh. She had inched closer, like a serpent moving in for the kill. Ron had the terrible notion that he was some kind of rodent being hunted for dinner.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, a mischievous smile playing on her face, “I can’t sleep and apparently you can’t either. That’s all this is.”

Quick as lightening, her deft thin fingers slipped into his pajama bottoms and pulled out his prick. Ron nearly choked on his own tongue, sorely wishing he’d been in the habit to wear underwear to bed, just to make the seduction less pitifully easy. She leaned down on her knees, with his prick already half hard in her hands, her black hair glinting darkly in the dim light.

“It’s huge,” she whispered, “Totally monstrous.”

Ron’s stomach simultaneously sunk and soared. It was probably the most wonderful thing anybody had ever said to him.

Then her pink lips wrapped around his cock and all he could do was make a terrible, embarrassing squeaking noise. He managed to dash a box to smithereens when he attempted to keep himself together but it was no good. She was a talented expert and had him moaning encouragements in seconds. He threaded his fingers in her black hair pulling on it gently. Ron came looking at her eyes, looking up at him; their deep green holding him prisoner until he could bare it no longer and shuddered, closing his eyes.

Breathing heavily, slumping slightly on the box they had been sharing only moments before, Ron regarded Harlan who wiped her mouth delicately and seemed quite pleased with herself. Her eyes rested on his prick, which was still fairly hard despite the recent orgasm. Ron flushed, embarrassed and stuffed himself back into his pajamas. Harlan giggled when he still managed to tent his pajama bottoms out to a ridiculous degree.

“Must be handy,” Harlan said wryly, “Not going down for ages.”

Ron snorted, “Doubtful. Makes her- ah, girls nervous more then anything.”

“Get around a lot?” Harlan asked, curiously.

“No!” Ron almost shouted, then winced lowering his voice, “Not that much anyway.”

Which was a horrible lie; he had gotten off quite a bit with Hermione but had never gone all the way with any girl, ever.

“What about you?” Ron said daringly, “Are all the stories about you true?”

Harlan rolled her eyes, “I wish I had such an exciting sex life. Two boys to my name and having it off with you, that’s all. Hardly scads of conquests.”

“Girls are supposed to be virtuous anyway,” Ron said shortly.

Harlan sniggered, “Virtuous? Is that what this is? Wizards are dreadful for double standards.”

Harlan sidled up to him, easily backing him into a corner and then nearly caused him to choke again, by resting her hand delicately against his crotch.

“Wizards all seem to want a witch to be fantastic in bed but still a virgin,” Harlan said, squeezing slightly, “They want to have their cake and eat it too.”

“I don’t-,” Ron swallowed, “I don’t care about any of that. Not really.”

“You’re sweet Ron,” Harlan said, then kissed him gently on the lips, “Better get back now though, it’s almost dawn. If Molly finds us up here together, she’ll kill us.”

It was making Ron’s head ache, to think of Harlan as the sexually charged tart that had seduced him effortlessly a few minutes ago and then reconcile that with the ordinary girl, who would go back to Ginny’s room after climbing down the ladder and sleep innocently under the covers.

In a few short moments, Ron was left alone in the attic, to ponder what in the name of Merlin had just happened.