Killer Queen

Chapter Five: Just Right
She followed Harry through a lovely clear night to a clearing in the middle of the woods, to the quiet side of a small pond. He led her to a spot under a tree, a nice soft, spot that was shady in the sunlight, cool and quiet in the dark.
Ginny got the feeling Harry had something to say to her, so she just waited for him to say it.
“This is me place. And I mean me own place. There’s a spell on these trees; they won’t let anyone in but me. I never brought your brother or Hermione here, or Cho. They wouldn’t understand why I need to come to a place like this. Whole people, people walking around with Mums and Dads and grandparents and uncles and brothers and sisters and rotten piss-ant cousins, they don’t know what it’s like.”
Harry took a flask out of the pocket of his jacket, had a drink and exhaled pungent smoke through his nostrils.
Idly, Ginny wondered where he had gotten the Horntail from.
Then, he lit one of his English Ovals.
“It’s never enough. Never enough booze, never enough dope, never enough bints, or enough fights. That fucker Voldemort put a black hole right through the middle of me. He took me Mum and me Dad and even me godfather, and left me to twist in the wind in a houseful of strangers supposed to be me family who only quit treating me like an utter piece of shit because they became afraid of me. The only one of ‘em worth a shit is me grandfather, and he’s been in prison for racketeering and murder since 1975. Goddamn Tom fucking Riddle. He put his mark on me, so I have to be the one to save the world from him. A world full of punters who don’t give a fuck if I die, as long as I save their cowardly, lily-white arses before I do it. I hate him. And I hate them. It’s like the fires of hell burning inside me. I can’t face it sober. I’d burn up alive. And you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re the only person who does.”
“Fucking right I do! Me Mum and Dad think it’s some kind of phase I’m going through. Phase my arse. It’s like in History class, when Frodo says that when he closes his eyes, all he can see is the ring of fire that is Sauron’s eye, and all he can smell is sulphur. I feel like I’m losing me mind, Harry. I’ve done something terrible. And right now, I’m doing something incredibly fucking stupid.”
“Tell me.” Harry encouraged her.
Ginny decided to bite the bullet.
“You know about my Lucius Malfoy project?”
“If you mean insane obsessive vendetta when you say “project”, then, sure.” Harry replied.
“It’s taken a rather strange turn. Since the beginning of the school year, I’ve been going to Malfoy Manor, every Thursday night. And not to play cards. I suppose I’ll get around to killing Luke, eventually, but right now I don’t feel like it. He’s knows I’m going to do it, too, he knows all about my, ah, insane obsessive vendetta, and it don’t bother him. As long as I use the Killing Curse so his family can have an open casket wedding.” Ginny admitted
Harry had a strange reaction.
“That poor bastard. Past all hope. You’d be doing him a favour, killing him. God, I hope I never get that bad.”
He took another drink.
“Any more confessions?” he asked.
“I seduced Remus Lupin. I sort of did it for a lark, but I’m beginning to feel terrible about it. He’s so…emotional. You know how werewolves are. No, I expect you don’t. Well, they’re very fucking emotional. And he’s in love with another woman. He wants to end it, and I think we should, but he doesn’t want to leave me alone in the world with Luke Malfoy. Which doesn’t suit me, neither. He’s so standoffish.”
“Poor Ginny. Porridge too hot? Porridge too cold? Where, oh where, is just right?”
“That’s what I want to know. Is that all you have to say, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“Sure. Who’m I to judge you? I’ve done some things I wouldn’t tell the Devil about. Sex can be a funny thing. You find yourself fucking people under the oddest circumstances. At least I do.” Harry replied.
“Now you sound like Luke. You both drink the same cheap firewhiskey, and smoke the same fags.”
“Well it makes sense, don’t it?. He’s just Voldemort’s patsy. Just like me. I’m destined to sacrifice me life killing the wicked old bastard and Malfoy is destined to sacrifice his life saving him. Maybe neither of us is satisfied with destiny, anymore. Either way, Ginny, I’m not going to live to see thirty. Or even twenty-one. No time to fuck about. Me point is, you and me, we’re a lot alike. And you’ve always got me back, anyway. Let’s face it. Remus is right. You shouldn’t be alone with Malfoy. And you’re right, you should get the hell out of the way of Professor Lupin and Tonks’ crazy yes-I-will, no-I-can’t love affair. I think I have a solution for you. The only thing either of us have got to keep us from ending up like that sad bastard Malfoy is each other. You’re looking at Mr. Just Right.”
“Harry, I’m not girlfriend material.”
“Good. I’m not boyfriend material. Not for any other witch but you. I already know you’ll fuck around on me. And you know I’ll fuck around on you? So what? Who cares? That kind of middle class bullshit isn’t important to me. And it isn’t important to you, either. I’ll be your Number One Bloke, and you can be my Number One Bird. I need you, Ginny. And you need me. For one thing, all this tension is getting in the way of us being best mates, and we can’t have that, can we? For another, you need a bloke who actually understands you and gives a shit about you, but who isn’t going to smother you with slosh or try to make you follow some stupid fucking rules of how to be a girl or any of that other shit that don’t matter. And I need a woman who gives a damn if I live or die. God knows every groupie who jumps on me cock because it’s a foot long and I’m Harry Potter, doesn’t.” Harry finished
“Merlin’s balls, Harry, is it really a foot long?” Ginny asked.
She realised that might not have been the best thing to say to anybody else, but Harry just winked and smiled broadly, because he knew that meant she was saying yes.
He grinned a lecher’s leer.
“Sure it is. And let me tell you what, I know a little something about birds, I’ve had enough of ‘em. I’m not just fucking about, I been carefully taught what it is makes a woman happy. And I know a bird built like you, she’s got a spot where there’s an itch that no bloke can really seem to reach. Even Lord Superfuck Malfoy. I know just where it is, and I can reach it. Aren’t you tired of fucking about with boys who don’t give a shit about you and don’t know what they’re doing? I may only be 16, Ginny, but I’m a man. I want to be your man. I’m a fucking wreck, and I don’t know I’ll live to see 21, and all I have to give you is 12 inches and all the heart and soul I got left to me. Please, let me.”
It wasn’t a romantic speech, as romantic speeches go, but Ginny was deeply moved by it.
“I wish you would, Harry.” She replied.
Harry kissed her.
Maybe Harry was Mr. Just Right. Maybe he wasn’t just talking about something physical; maybe he meant that it was the emotional satisfaction they were both missing; the simple pleasure of fucking someone you cared about who cared about you.
“Do you want to go home, now?” Harry teased her.
“Not half! But there’s one more thing I have to tell you about. The terrible thing. You’re…well you’re not just following Remus Lupin and Lucius Malfoy and a multitude of Killer Queen groupies. Before I knew that Tom Riddle was Lord Voldemort, when he was just this lad who hopped out of my diary…well, I shagged him. On several occasions.”
To Ginny’s surprise, Harry just started to laugh.
“I can top that. I lost me cherry to Rita Skeeter when I was 14. And I knew exactly who she was at the time. I still go see Rita. She’s not so bad. We have a couple drinks, a few laughs, a puff or two of weed, I feed her some dope for her column about people I can’t stand. Who does what to who in the Alley. That sort of thing. She’s not bad, for an old girl. And she always keeps good firewhiskey around. Yunno, the expensive shit they make ‘ere in Scotland.” He confessed.
“A right couple of villians we are, ain’t we, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“Worst kind of fucking degenerates.” Harry agreed.
Ginny pointed at him.
“Divesto!”
“Wandless magic, eh? Not bad.” Harry said.
“Remus taught me a few simple spells.” Ginny explained.
He certainly looked like a man. He was rawboned and wiry, and had hair on his arms and his long, flat, wiry thighs and even a little on his chest. He kissed her with passion and authority; he didn’t knock her head on an errant rock when he lowered her onto the ground; and he had his Invisibility Cloak spread out beneath them.
He didn’t use a spell, he undressed her with his own two hands.
“God damn, Ginny, your hair’s so fucking long. You’ve always looked like an Elf, when you’re naked. You could be an Elf, and this could be a Faery ring, and you’re going to take me away from here. Forever.” Harry told her.
He kissed her ears and the hollow of her neck, as he muttered his endearment, rolling her nipple between his fingertips, moaning into her white throat.
It was an odd thing to say, odd and tender.
No one ever said odd and tender things to Ginny while they were fucking her. They grunted and said dirty things, or muttered corny shit that sounded like it came from the love stories her Mum liked to watch, but never anything like that.
Harry wasn’t just bragging about knowing what he was doing. He could read every move she made; she didn’t have to tell him to touch her here or kiss her there and she didn’t have to push his head down between her legs or hold it there.
And when he took a breath he kept muttering odd, tender things; he ran his hungry mouth all over her whole body, kissing her and licking her and sucking her until she was crying and misty-eyed with pleasure.
“I can’t breathe. I don’t know where I am, anymore.” She panted.
He was scratching that itch she had, and scratching it good.
“How d’you want me, Ginny luv? Tell me.” Harry asked her.
She opened up her eyes.
You saw things like that in the movies, but you never expected to see such a thing in real life.
Luke was amazingly well hung, and Remus more so, but Harry was ridiculously well-hung. Somewhere in his family there must have been a centaur or a satyr. It really was a foot long, a real monster, almost as big around as a beer can with an immense purple head that winked its one eye at her, conspiratorially, as it peered from under its hood.
“Let me get on it. You been doing everything to me, Harry, now let me do something to you.”
He lay down on his back and Ginny leaned over to kiss him on the lips.
She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but she meant to do it.
Harry moaned when her lips closed over his cock, and she started working her way down its length, patiently, deliberately, like the snake swallowing it’s prey, whole.
“Oh shit! Merlin’s balls, that feels good! Ohhhh, Ginny…” Harry moaned, ecstatically.
No witch had ever been able to deep throat him before, but Ginny managed it, talking him all the way in until his balls, which were also huge, bounced against her chin.
She wanted to do something to make him feel good; Ginny got the feeling that wasn’t very important to his usual clientele.
Harry was weeping with pleasure as Ginny straddled him, carefully aiming his monstrous cock with her hand.
“We’ll see about that spot.” She panted.
“It’s there.” Harry assured her.
He put his hands on her arse, and they slid her slowly, exquisitely down the length of his cock.
It hit the spot, and Ginny’s ears started ringing like a fire alarm.
She roared, tossed her mane about and started riding him in earnest.
Harry never had a witch like her, never ever. She was like a volcano erupting from the pit of Hell, and came two or three times like an express train crashing into his body before she collapsed on top of him in a near faint.
Harry gently rolled her over on her back, and she seemed exhausted, but in a few strokes she was crazy with desire again, pushing back against him.
Harry didn’t have to hold back with Ginny, he could pour his naked, raw lust over her like lava and she’d meet his most molten heat. She took it all and shouted to him for more, cheering him on and spewing obscenities. He wanted to make it last longer, but as Ginny came off one last time she hit Harry with the full fury of her own naked, raw lust, raging and muscular.
He came quite helplessly, moaning and grunting and even laughing as Ginny’s roars subsided into those lovely purring sounds she made.
They lolled onto the ground, breathless and spent.
When he had strength to, Harry rolled over and pulled Ginny into his arms.
“Can you do acccio, without a wand, Ginny, luv? I need me fags and I can’t make a fist.” he asked.
Ginny got him his cigarettes and Harry used the lighter he kept in the pack to light up.
She watched him lazily blow smoke rings into the air.
“Oi, Harry?”
“Hmmm?”
“Just right.”
Harry laughed.
After he had his smoke, he fell asleep.
Ginny wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around them both, and she fell asleep, too.
***
The birds outside her window seemed to be tweeting awfully loudly, until Ginny realised she was still outside with the birds.
It was morning, and she and Harry were still lying naked under the tree with their clothes strewn all over the bank.
She was still in his arms, and it was a lovely morning, but they had class in less than an hour.
“WAKE UP, HARRY!” Ginny yelled.
Harry sat up, and began feeling around for his glasses.
He put them on.
“Where the fuck are we?”
“In your happy place. Where’s me shoes? Where’s me pants? Those are your pants. Get dressed, we have to go!”
***
Ginny was still thinking about the previous night as she was supposed to be eating her lunch.
She looked over at Hermione, who had a similar dreamy leer on her face.
Spymaster Snape must be some kind of man, wicked nasty old tosser that he was.
Harry was busy wolfing his lunch, and Ron was watching him with a look of grim fascination.
“Don’t look, Ron, it’ll put you off.” Ginny told him.
Ron pushed his plate away.
“Too late.” He said.
“D’you want this, mate?” Harry asked.
“Go ahead. Chow down. You need your strength for killing Death Eaters and rumping groupies.” Ron replied.
“Cheers. Brilliant. Thanks.” Harry said and began devouring Ron’s food.
Malfoy made his regularly scheduled stop at their table.
If he was a double agent, he was damn good at it.
“You owe me twenty galleons, you disgusting pig.” He told Harry.
“Sue me, fucko.” Harry told his plate.
“I’ll give you twenty galleons worth of GBH, Malfoy! Harry showed me a bag of oregano that wasn’t worth twenty pence! What will your father think when he finds out you’ve been dealing on the side, shorting your usual customers, and lining your own pockets, fucking him and Tom Riddle both?” Ginny insisted.
“Why would my father listen to you?” Draco snorted.
“He has his reasons.” Ginny said, meaningfully.
Draco opened his mouth and closed it again, like a fish.
“Harry and I will be at the Hog’s Head tonight at ten. If you’re not there with the real goods, come Thursday next I’ll be singing to your old man like a fucking canary. Get me?” Ginny snarled.
“Will you have my twenty galleons?” Draco asked.
“I want to see the stuff, first.” Ginny insisted.
“Deal.” Draco agreed.
He took one last swipe at Harry.
“I see you have a new personal secretary, Potter. I do hope you’re getting all the services Miss Weasley has to offer.”
Ron got up from his chair and got his wand out, but Harry was there ahead of him, and he was holding Draco high in the air.
By the throat.
With one hand.
“Don’t you talk like that about my woman, you nasty little Slytherin fuck! I’ll rip your heart out with me bare hands and make you watch it stop beating as you die!” Harry insisted.
“Put him down! Snape will see you!” Hermione encouraged Harry.
Harry put Draco down.
“Congrats, Potter. And to you too, Weasley. Harry Potter and the Killer Queen. A real match made in Hell.” He sniped, before making a fast getaway.
“Did I say you could date my sister?” Ron asked.
“Mum thinks Harry and I are dating.” Ginny reminded him.
“Mum has no idea what the two of you are really like. Harry, I don’t want you treating Ginny the way you treat your Boy Who Lived groupies, all knickers down and what was your name, again. And Ginny, I don’t want you abusing poor Harry the way you do with the likes of the lot you entertain, expecting them all to be Johnny Holmes and then slagging them all over the Wizarding World if they’re not. I don’t want the two of you doing unto each other as other people have done unto you, yunno?” Ron replied.
“Ron, I swear, I’d never do anything to hurt Ginny. She’s different. I…well...we understand each other.” Harry said.
“That’s right, Ron. You know I’m good to Harry. And he’ll be good to me.” Ginny assured her brother.
“If you put my sister in the club, or if you give her some disease, I’ll cripple you.” Ron told him.
“I’ll help.” Hermione agreed.
“I won’t lay a finger on her.” Harry said.
Harry reached for Ginny’s hand under the table and she could feel his crossed fingers.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, right.” She said.
“It’s not your finger I’m worried about.” Ron muttered.
Ginny looked over at the Slytherin’s table, and all of them looked away.
She squeezed Harry’s hand.
“So, Hermione, how are things with Old Snape? I hope he’s not being too hard on you during all of those strenuous after-school activities.” Ginny teased.
“Ewwww. That’s so foul!” Ron exclaimed.
“Oh, it’s not too much for me.” Hermione replied, lightly.
She winked at Ginny and Ginny winked back.


***
Ginny was sweating out the inevitable reply from home. It came a week later, while she was sitting in the Common Room, by the window.
Pig flew in, hooting madly, with a reply from home, and a package.
It wasn’t a howler, and that was a good sign, but Ginny was still nervous about what her mother might have said.
She took the letter into her dorm room, closed herself up in bed, and read it.
Dear Ginny,
It was so nice to finally get a letter from you that wasn’t all rosy lies and half-truths. You haven’t been fooling me. I’m your mother, and I at least had my suspicions about what you’ve been up to. I also had a rather sobering visit from Professor Snape not too long ago, so I know all about you and Harry and Knockturn Alley.
I wanted to pull you out of school, and ground you until you were 30. I was prepared to chain you to your bed with mithril, if I had to, but Professor Snape convinced me otherwise. I understand that you were just trying to take care of Harry, but there are better ways for you to do that.
You can start by taking care of yourself.
Those boys are using you. I know you think I’m your old fuddy-duddy traditional Mum having the horrors about you sowing a few wild oats. But I’m not objecting to what you’ve done on moral grounds. For one thing, you could catch any number of terrible diseases that birth control doesn’t affect. For another, despite your pretence to having no feelings, you can’t tell me it isn’t somehow dehumanising to have these boys pass through you and leave without so much as knowing their names. You must wonder why they never say hello to you when they see you; why they never seem to acknowledge that you exist or that anything happened between you. I’m sure it’s a terribly lonely feeling, isolating and sad.
And Harry is going through the same thing. You both think you’re getting over, but all you’re getting is abused. And he drinks, and you fight, and things get worse and you both wonder why life has no joy or meaning.
Because you aren’t an island, and you aren’t made of stone. If you want to have two or three boyfriends, I suppose I will have to live with that. It would be an improvement; that would be two or three boys who know you and care for you in some way; people with whom you have some kind of trust and friendship.
I think you and Harry ought to become a couple, because he does understand you, and he is your best friend, and the two of you care very deeply for each other. As your mother I of course hope to see the two of you settle down someday, and I wouldn’t mind Harry becoming an official member of the family.
It’s hard for me to understand why you’ve done some of these things, Ginervra, and as your mother it hurts me deeply to know that you are in so much pain, and that there’s so little I can do to help you. I want you to be honest with me, and know that you can ask me for advice on anything, and come to me about anything, no matter what it is. Remember, I’m still your mother, and I love you. But please, be careful! I know you hate it when I talk about these kinds of things, but don’t let Harry get you drinking and stay away from drugs, and I hope that you haven’t done anything with any of these boys without using a contraceptive spell and condoms. Every time! NO EXCEPTIONS! Don’t go making me a grandmother yet!
All that said, your father has no idea about any of this, & I will see to it that it stays that way. Tell Harry that I’m not angry with him, and that if he needs me as a stand-in for motherly advice, I’ll be glad to help him.
If you need me to make your costumes this year for the Halloween Ball, I will. I know Harry has the money to buy costumes, but sometimes the home-made ones are nicer.
I packed you up a box of home-made treats for you and your brother, but there’s enough to share with Harry and Hermione. Be careful, stay safe and try to have a little more respect and regard for yourself. Professor Snape thinks you’re an excellent student, a good soldier, and a loyal friend. I agree. You’re also a wonderful daughter and a good girl. Be proud of that, and don’t worry about the rest. Everyone makes mistakes; the idea is to learn from them.
Love
Mum
Ginny had to read the letter twice to make sure it really said what it said.
She didn’t notice that Harry had opened up the curtains and climbed into bed with her until she heard him opening the box.
“Molly’s homemade biscuits! And cupcakes! Popcorn balls, pumpkin crèmes, chocolate marshmallow cats…” he kept exclaiming, digging through the seemingly-bottomless box.
Ginny folded up the letter and put it under the bed. She turned to Harry and found him stuffing his face with treats, one after the other.
“They’re not all for you, for fuck’s sake! Save some for me and Ron and Hermione, will you?” she bawled, grabbing the box from him.
She took out a few biscuits and a cupcake, closed up the box and put it under the bed.
“Can I have one more biscuit?” Harry asked.
“No! What do I do if you eat yourself into a coma and pass out?” Ginny replied.
“Can I have one more biscuit after you’ve had your injection, then?” Harry rejoined.
Ginny couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes.” She managed to say.
One thing about her and Harry, they always had a real good time.