A Little Help From Big Brother

Title: A Little Help from Big Brother

Disclaimer: Absolutely no redeeming quality whatsoever. J.K.R. should have me tar and feathered. Not even willing to admit I wrote this, let alone take any credit, money or blame for it.

Rating: NC-17


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Bill Weasley shut off the water and listened to the sound of the drain gurgling and the last drip-drip-drip from the old showerhead. Nothing else. Pure, blessed silence, which at the Burrow was harder to come by than Galleons aometometimes more precious.

Not that Galleons were much of a problem around the old place, lately. Now that Harry Potter had put old Voldemort in his grave, or whatever passed for a grave for a semi-immortal, not-quite-human wizard, things had been looking decidedly up for Arthur Weasley. The fact that the famous Boy Who Lived, now a young man, was living with Arthur and his family had the unforeseen effect of boosting Arthur’s career, to to mention the continual showering of gifts on Harry and his adopted family.

Even now, the entire clan, minus the eldest son, were at the latest folderol celebrating the downfall of Voldemort and the triumph of Harry Potter. Truth be told, Bill was a bit worn out by the constant celebrating, which was why he was here at home, taking leave from his job at Gringotts. The few weeks after the Battle, as it was known, had seen Bill run ragged as Gringotts and the Ministry together had reviewed the contents of every confirmed Death Eater’s bank vault, resulting in a steady stream of cursed items for Bill’s expertise to review.

Now that he finally had some time off, he was not going to waste it by tagging along on every occasion. Ron always went, as Harry refused to be celebrated without acknowledging his best friend’s contributions. Molly usually went along as a representative of Harry’s adopted family, and Ginny usually attended as Harry’s shield against the many young witches who threw themselves at the hero in the mistaken impression that Harry was single and looking for a good time.

Bill couldn’t quite put his finger on the moment when Harry and Ginny stopped being separate people and instead became a Harry-and-Ginny conglomerate. He hadn’t really thought much about his little sister’s love life, being some twelve years older than she. It wasn’t until some time after she’d started at Hogwarts that his adoring little sister had suddenly and surprisingly shifted her affections from himself to someone else.

At first, the name ‘Harry’ had meant little to Bill. It was not an uncommon name, and the fact that his youngest brother Ron had a new best friend named Harry had meant nothing to him. It was just before Ron’s fourth year in school, when Arthur had gotten tickets to the World Cup for the entire family, that his mother had casually mentioned that Ron’s friends were coming as well and would spend the last few days before school at the Burrow. He’d been more surprised to find out Ron had a female friend, and Muggle-born at that.

But when his mother had fussed about the conditions Harry endured with his horrid Muggle relatives, Bill’s single-minded brain finally put two and two together and realized Ron and his bushy-haired friend and most importantly little Ginny were talking about THAT Harry Potter.

Which explained a lot of things. Like why his mothersed sed so much over yet another one of her sons’ friends. And more than anything, it explained why Ginny, who normally greeted his infrequent visits with an exuberant hug, had instead given him an absent-minded wave.

The three years since then had only gotten worse, as the little girl who used to hang on her oldest brother’s every word now worshiped at another alter altogether. In an attempt to be supportive, Bill had suppressed his worry (he refused to call it jealousy) and gave his full support to Ginny’s infatuation with Harry Potter. If it proved that Harry felt no more than affection for the youngest Weasley, well, Bill would be there for her to cry on when her heart broke, wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately, Harry Potter wasn’t stupid, and somewhere in the past few years he’d finally figured out what a good thing he had going in Ginny Weasley. Bill had reluctantly stepped back, and had made sure his legion of brothers didn’t crowd the young couple either. Which didn’t mean a sharp eye couldn’t be kept on them both. After seeing what Harry put up with, both before and after his epic duel with Voldemort, Bill was grudgingly willing to admit he was a worthy suitor for Ginny.

He was also worthy of all the honors and gifts being thrust on him, but the constant attention didn’t make living with Harry Potter in the house any easier. Bill was seriously considering moving back to his apartment in Alexandria as he came down the stairs of the Burrow barefoot with his shirt slung over his shoulder. A rumble in his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten yet today and dinner was still two hours away.

A slight sound from the sitting room caught his ear, and his curse-breaker reflexes sent him to investigate before he considered the fact he was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. He was surprised to see Ginny slumped miserably in the sofa.

“Ginny?” he questioned, coming over to stand in front of her. “What’s the matter, Peach?”

“Nothing,” she told him, supremely unconvincing. Her face was nearly buried in the open neck of her button-down shirt as she glanced up at him.

“Right. Come on, tell your old brother.”

“I can’t.”

“What problem is so bad you can’t tell me?”

Ginny bit her lip, blushing to the roots of her hair, and Bill blushed as he figured it out.

“Ah. Must be about Harry.”

“Yeah,” she said, picking at the fabric of the sofa. Her blush didn’t diminish one whit, and he made the next logical deduction.

“So you two are getting...” he tried to find an appropriate adjective.

“Yeah. Kinda.”

Bill plopped himself on the sofa next to Ginny and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “Well, the path of true love, all that rot.”

“Path?” Ginny snorted. “I think I need a machete to find that path.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Bill! Honestly, do you really want to discuss the gruesome details of my sex life?”

“How gruesome?” he growled, immediately shifting into protective brother mode.

“Not. That’s the problem.”

“You’ve lost me, Ginny.”

She stared determinedly at her fingers, which had stopped tormenting the worn sofa fabric and had moved onto her buttons. “Do you really want to hear how Harry and I are not having sex?”

“I caught you snogging just last week. You looked pretty close to...” again, the command of his native language escaped him.

“We were. We are. It’s just not what I thought. I mean, I’ve never done it, and Harry’s been too busy trying not to get killed to do it, so neither one of us has a clue WHAT we’re doing.”

“Ah. This I can answer. Just do what feels good,” he told her sagely.

To his surprise, she slumped against the sofa cushions once more. “What if nothing feels good?” she asked tentatively.

“Ginny, I do have more experience here. I’m telling you, making love does feel good.”

“Well, about the third time I say ow, Harry gets discouraged and goes off on his broom somewhere.”

Bill frowned. “And why would you be saying ow?”

Tilting her head to one side, Ginny pulled on the collar of her shirt to show him the large red lovebite on her neck. Bill whistled.

“For the love of Mike, he needs to slow down, but that’s not really all that bad.”

Wordlessly she fiddled open the first two buttons of her blouse. The plackets parted and revealed the lacy cup of her bra, and just under the scalloped edge, a livid purple bruise as large as Bill’s thumb. Without thinking he hooked his finger in the lace and pulled it down to see the entire mark, tooth-marks and all.

“It’s not so bad,” Ginny told him, attempting to head off the protective big brother instinct. “The thing is, Harry can be very single-minded, when he wants to be. You know that. And lately he’s been acting like this is a task from the Tri-Wizard’s tournament. Something he needs to get over with.”

“I suppose - if you promise not to hex me - I guess I could talk to him,” Bill offered.

“Would you, really?” she asked, too grateful to be embarrassed.

“No problem. And I’ll give you some advice, too, little sis. Just tell him what you want. Not all men are born sex gods, you know. All he needs is a few pointers. I was about his age… Okay, I was fifteen when a very wise upperclassman told me something very valuable.”

“Who? What did he tell you?”

“Sirius Black. He was visiting the Gryffindor team and was chatting up Charlie and me. My girlfriend had just broken up with me, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

“Sirius Black was not my idea of a proper mentor,” Ginny said with a frown.

“Mine either,” Bill laughed, “and what he told me wasn’t exactly proper. Damned handy, though. He told me a woman is like a loaf of fresh bread.”

“What!? Goodness, how very romantic,” Ginny drawled, her voice dripping sarcasm.

“Well, if you think about it the right way. Think about it, Ginny. Men are usually only interested in a few things. Food and sex,”

“And Quidditch,” she added.

“Exactly. And a woman should be treated like a delicious loaf of fresh bread, and not a lump of bread dough to be kneaded and thumped on. Harry’s smarter than Ron, and even Ron’s figured it out.”

Ginny smiled slightly and nodded, but still looked pensive.

“What if I don’t know what feels good?” she asked softly.

“Just tell him, Ginny,” Bill said in the same intimate voice. “Use a little tact, so you don’t shred his ego, and he’ll be all yours.”

Without thinking, Bill leaned forward and softly kissed the bruise on her breast, just as he had kissed a myriad of his sister’s small hurts through the years. He might have imagined it, but he thought her heard her breath hitch, ever so slightly. When he looked up, she was staring at him with wide brown eyes. She wet her lips, and Bill found himself fascinated with the tip of her little pink tongue.

“What do you do, when you’re making love to a girl for the first time?”

“Well,” Bill began reluctantly, “I usually kiss her for a while.” He realized his finger was still in the cup of his sister’s bra, her shirt hanging open just inches from his face. “That’s always a good start.”

“Then?” Ginny breathed.

Bill didn’t answer, engrossed in the deep brown of Ginny’s eyes. Her moist lips parted and Bill’s did the same, his breathing quickening. When had Ginny grown up so much? When had the knock-kneed, pigtailed little girl become a lovely siren?

Slowly, Ginny moved to straddle Bill’s legs. She put her hands on his shoulders, and as she leaned forward, her breast pushed into his palm.

“Then what?” she repeated.

“Then I...” Bill pulled his wandering thoughts back from the feel of Ginny’s nipple in his hand. “Then I make a solid pass at her. Feel her bum, or her tits.”

Ginny pressed her hand against his, molding his fingers around her small, pert breast. “Like this?” she asked breathlessly.

Slowly shaking his head, Bill corrected his grip, gently cupping and squeezing, and getting a moan from Ginny. Experimenting, he pinched the nipple lightly and got a gasp for his efforts.

Bill was grateful he was tall when he had a girl in this position, and leaned up to kiss Ginny’s strawberry red lips. Without actually thinking about it, his free hand had gone around her waist, his grip bringing her hips firmly against his lower torso.

Resisting the urge to crush his mouth against hers, Bill slowly tasted her lips, then teased her mouth open, giving her the benefit of his experience. She was a fast learner, he thought, his brain slowly losing all higher functions. His other hand slid up beneath her shirt until it encountered her bra. A pinch and twist, and the hooks came loose.

Ginny arched her back as the straps came down her arms, and Bill helped the last few buttons of her shirt come undone. A tug on the tail pulled the shirt off her shoulders. Bill looked at her saucy breasts, the tips pale pink and tightening up as he watched. With a groan he leaned forward and took one in his mouth.

She leaned into him, her entwined bra and shirt trapping her arms to her sides as the long strands of his damp, glowing red hair brushed over her skin. One hand cupped her free breast, thumb rubbing the nipple hard and erect even as his tongue teased its mate. Grabbing her waist, he leaned sideways on the sofa and stretched out, pulled her down on top of him, kissing her throat and breasts.

She shifted atop her brother, grinding down on his crotch. One of his hands found her breast again, bringing it up to his mouth as the other stroked down her back to the hem of her short summer skirt. When his hand reversed directions, the fabric went with it. His next stroke went down the length of the skirt to find her bare thigh, and this time went up and under. The expanse of warm skin was exhilarating, especially when it went on and on.

“Ginny, are you not wearing any knickers?” He questioned, as he circled her bare hipbone with his thumb.

A thong. For Harry,” she said breathlessly.

Feeling almost possessive and less than gentle, Bill bit down on the nipple in his mouth and got a delicious whimper for his troubles. His fingers followed the curve of her hip up until he found the elastic waistband of her thong, traced it to the flat of her behind, then followed the fabric down until it disappeared between the firm young buttocks. She moaned as his fingers cupped and kneaded the bare flesh, while his tongue and lips teased each nipple to erect attention.

Sprawled on her brother’s bare chest, Ginny could feel his fingers probing between her ass cheeks. She felt wanton and incredibly aroused, far more than what Harry had ever done for her. For a moment she felt a pang of guilt, then Bill’s fingers tugged the thong from its home and replaced the frilly lace strip with his own warm, calloused touch. She shuddered as he flirted with the tight pucker of her anus then delved further down, touching her and finding her already wet.

She let out a sobbing breath as he stroked gently between her parted thighs, teasing, never quite firm enough, until she bucked backwards, seeking more. The broad chest under her rumbled slightly as Bill chuckled at her impatience, and the scratch of his chest hair on her bare breasts was maddening.

His arms pulled her up so his mouth could find her breasts again, while his fingers continued to spread her wetness around, gliding just inside her to gather more of the silky fluid before spreading it up and down her cunt. With a single heave, Bill flipped them over, pinning her to the sofa.

While his mouth suckled insistently at her breasts, his finger slowly penetrated her virginity, drawing incredible sounds from her throat that went straight to his cock. He started to pump his finger into her, taking his time and making sure her body was ready for each additional inch before giving her more.

He abruptly pulled his mouth from her breasts and kissed her mouth deeply. He could kiss her for hours, he thought, all the while his finger stroked in and out of her, the heel of his hand applying a slow, circular pressure to her clitoris.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he whispered in her ear, and it shook his self-control when she voiced her frustration in a whispered obscenity that would have shocked their mother. Nails with a coat of light pink nail polish dug into his shoulders as he nipped at her earlobe, deliberately drawing his unshaven chin over the soft skin of her neck. “I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m just not gonna.”

Moving down, he gave each of her nipples a final firm tongue-lashing and suckle before kissing her belly. The skin shivered under his mouth, and he smiled when her voice trembled as it called his name. His knees settled on the floor between her sprawled legs.

“Shh,” he told her, moving down further, past the bra across her flat little tummy and the waistband of her skirt. He pushed the denim fabric up and raised an appreciative eyebrow at the nearly transparent silk of her panties. The scanty strip of lace between her legs moved easily to the side and allowed him to investigate the copper curls on her mons with his tongue. She shivered as he blew across the damp skin, and blocked her effort to close her legs with his arm.

“It’s all right,” he soothed as he stroked her inner thighs with his hands, watching her sex ripple with involuntary reaction to his breath. He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, moving closer and closer with each salute of his lips until her legs shuddered with anticipation.

A chaste kiss on her labia made her jerk and moan, and he grinned. “Like that?” he asked, then did it again, lingering this time, licking the juices off his lips.

“Gods, Bill,” she moaned.

Bill placed a broad palm on thi thigh and held her exposed and still while he slowly licked her opening, cleaning off the juices as he went. Gradually he deepened his strokes, flirting with the button of pleasure at the top, spreading her glistening pink opening wide with his thumbs. Settling in, he slowly penetrated her once more with his finger, swiveling until he found just the right spot. His other hand crept up to find a taunt nipple and tweak it gently.

Ginny jumped as Bill’s finger found something inside her, and the incredible tension she’d been feeling abruptly pooled low in her belly, swirling higher and hotter as he turned his hand to the side and added a second finger, slowly stretching her virgin passage. His lips sucked at her clitoris, his tongue making frequent forays further down to where his fingers pumped in and out in a measured, maddening rhythm that threatened her very sanity.

“Like that, do you Ginny?” he purred, turning his fingers over inside her again and finding that spot once more. “Say it, Gin.”

“OH. Bill. GODS! Please!” she pleaded, but he continued the exquisite torture. “Bill, please,” she begged, almost sobbing.

In response he shoved harder, while he sucked the little bundle of nerves into his mouth and flicked it repeatedly with his tongue.

Ginny screamed and bucked, the pool of heat abruptly boiling over, pouring through her body in waves that drowned her in a pleasure she’d never felt before. Nothing prepared her for this, and it continued as Bill slowly pumped her from inside, his tongue gently stroking her clit and making the endless aftershocks rock her boneless body.

“Gin?” he called a few minutes later, as she still hadn’t opened her eyes. “All right, then?”

Her eyes opened and fastened on him, still pools of rich, melting brown chocolate.

“Absobloodylutely,” she told him. “You?”

Bill blew out his breath. “Really jealous of Harry. That, and I could knock down a wall with this,” he told her, one hand going to his crotch. The other was still inside her, and she shivered as he withdrew it. She shivered again as he licked his fingers, grinning rakishly at her all the while.

“Are you sure you don’t want to?” she asked shyly. He shook his head.

“This was a one-time thing, Gin. Now you know what you want. I bet Harry will catch on quickly.”

A pop from the other side of the room made them both jump.

“Ginny?” called Harry.

Ginny pulled her shirt together, panicked. Bill put his hands on her, stilling her movement.

“Harry,” Bill called, standing up and putting on his shirt nonchalantly, for once supremely glad the long tail of the shirt went past his crotch. “Good to see you.” As he went around the sofa, he made shooing motions towards the stairs behind his back. “Look, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to Ginny,” Harry began, and broke off as Bill’s large, muscular arm went around his shoulders. The younger man was virtually the same height as himself, but Bill still outmassed Harry’s Seeker build by half.

“That’s too bad. You and I need to talk,” Bill said, brooking no argument, and hauled the young man into the kitchen, one hand clamped firmly on the back of Harry’s neck. “It’s about women, Harry. See, the thing is, they’re like fresh bread.”

Ginny scurried up the stairs behind the two men, and her brother’s voice became muffled as she reached her room. A faint smile lingered on her lips as she searched for a fresh pair of underwear. Yep. Things would be different, with a little help from her big brother.


The End