JKR's characters and world. Sorry for what I'm doing to them, but
it was all written for fun andI hope you have a good giggle J
It'd never happen in real life ~ no one could be so unlucky! Note: This
fic is rated "R" for adult themes.
Harry Potter stood alone, half-hidden in an alcove, some way along the
Transfiguration corridor. He checked his watch impatiently for the third
time in as many minutes, and peered around the suit of armour and down
the corridor once more. Where on earth was she? Surely she couldn't have
got detention with McGonagall again? Admittedly, she found the
work easy, but that would make it the fourth one this month. He sighed
in exasperation, but knowing full well that Ginny definitely hadn't left
with the rest of the sixth years, and leaned back against the wall to
wait, with as much patience as he could muster.
Bright sunshine streamed through the chequered panes of glass along the
hallway, creating patterns along the floor as the beams distorted into
elongated lengths, that stretched across the carpet, and touched the walls
on the opposite side. Harry prodded the carpet restlessly with his foot,
and finding that didn't soothe his frazzled nerves, he began to pace within
the confines of the little space he occupied. Suddenly, he heard the lilt
of a certain voice, which made his stomach quiver with anticipation, and
a swift glance around the trusty suit of armour revealed the truth of
the matter. A slight figure, wearing her vibrantly red hair twisted neatly
into a knot, stood in the doorway talking vivaciously to Professor McGonagall
and gesticulating wildly in the manner he adored. Even from this distance,
Harry knew from two years experience of interpreting her moods that at
least she hadn't got detention. He heaved a sigh of relief and began to
grin wickedly once more.
Wand in hand, he waited. Professor McGonagall smiled and nodded at Ginny,
before returning to her classroom; Ginny swung her bag casually over her
shoulder and headed happily down the now deserted corridor towards Gryffindor
Tower. Harry's grin widened as she unknowingly passed by him, and before
she had got more than a few steps further, he cast a simple spell.
He heard her gasp of astonishment, as she was magically lifted from her
feet and transported rapidly into his arms, as if attracted to him like
"Oh it's you," she smiled fondly, stretching up and wrapping
her arms around his neck, and carelessly playing with the little hairs
there, sending prickles of desire down his spine.
"Who else would it be?" Harry chuckled throatily, drawing her
backwards into the shadows. "Don't tell me other people do
this to you all the time."
"Well, there was that one time when…" Ginny began, her eyes
twinkling mischievously, but Harry wasn't listening. His lips suddenly
met hers with a forceful longing, fingers frantically pulling the pin
out from her hair, letting it cascade wildly around her, his hand tangled
up in the thickness of it, loving the feel of her against him, filling
his every sense. A soft moan escaped from her, making the blood pound
in his ears. Feeling his back press against the wall, he pulled her ever
closer to him, acutely aware of her small hands slowly beginning to explore,
to caress, and to produce nerve endings on his body where there had been
"Gin," he whispered breathlessly, returning the urgent kisses,
the demand for more.
"Have you got much homework tonight?"
She broke free from him and looked up, her dark brown eyes almost black
with desire, breathing shallow and uneven.
"Nothing that can't wait," she whispered, her eyes still fused
with his. "Why?"
"Do you want to?" he murmured, raising his eyebrow at her,
before tracing a lightly fluttering trail of kisses down to that sensitive
spot at the base of her neck, making her shiver with pleasure.
"Harry," she gasped. "You keep that up, and I'll pin you
down right here and now."
"That'll be a bit of a shock for anyone going past," he chuckled
in her ear. "But I'm game if you are."
She laughed, and slapped him affectionately. Reluctantly she pulled herself
away from him and twitched her robes straight.
"Tonight, then?" she said, eyes alight with anticipation. "Shall
I see you in the Common Room, or shall we meet up the same as last time?"
"I think it'd better not be like last time," Harry teased,
with a devilish grin.
The colour rushed into her cheeks at the memory, but her eyes sparkled
and a low chuckle erupted. There was absolutely no danger whatsoever of
either of them forgetting that experience in a hurry, and Harry, for one,
thought it might be prudent to avoid that particular broom cupboard on
the fourth floor for the foreseeable future. It was typical of their relationship
to be the total opposite to everyone else's; the first time they had ever
had sex was wonderful, yet subsequent forays into parts of the school,
for a bit of privacy in the dead of night, had met with rather mixed
On the last night in question, things had just been getting very interesting
indeed, when the cupboard door had clicked open, despite the locking spell
Ginny had cast on it. Harry was eternally grateful that Ginny had considerably
more presence of mind than he did, and actually managed to throw the invisibility
cloak over then like a blanket, concealing them from the intruder. He
could remember it in vivid detail: the desperate attempt to control his
unsteady, rasping breaths, the violent thudding of his heart, as they
lay entwined together, too afraid to move. Footsteps coming ever nearer,
some rummaging, and something was removed from the shelves not far from
their feet. Further little steps, which Ginny had told him later belonged
to one of the House Elves, followed by the gentle closing of the door.
The sense of relief they felt to escape undetected was immense, but rather
short lived. The House Elf, as is the nature of the very creatures, had
neatly and tidily gathered together their clothing from where it had been
strewn in their haste, and taken it away with her. To Harry's total mortification,
his clothes simply appeared on his bed the following day, neatly laundered
and pressed, and no comment was ever made about it.
"I am never going to forget that expression on your face,"
Ginny giggled wickedly, remembering the ensuing horror, and subsequent
hilarity, at having to make their way back to Gryffindor Tower with nothing
but the invisibility cloak to hide their modesty.
"Thank heavens for towels in the Prefects' bathroom," Harry
laughed, turning rather red himself. "I think the Fat Lady would've
had a heart attack if I'd had to step out of the cloak completely starkers
to give her the password."
Tears of laughter rolled down Ginny's cheeks, and she hugged him tightly.
"It's worth it though," he said, kissing her deeply. "Leave
it to me. I'll think of somewhere safer for tonight."
"Perfect," she whispered, beginning to twist her hair back
up into its pleat, and then pinning it securely. "Come on. I'm ravenous
and it's dinner now."
"What did McGonagall want?" Harry asked her curiously, as she
slid her hand into his and they strolled down the corridor.
"Oh, she had a bit of a proposition for me," she grinned at
him. "I think it's a plan to keep me out of trouble, to tell you
the truth. I'm going to do my N.E.W.T.s in Transfiguration this year with
you lot, and then she says I can work on becoming an Animagus next year,
instead of the regular seventh year stuff."
"You're kidding?" Harry asked in sheer astonishment.
"No," she laughed. "It sounds great, doesn't it?"
"That's incredible, Ginny," he said, smiling proudly at her.
"Y'know, maybe I should get you to teach me sometime. My dad was
one, and I think I'd like that."
"Definitely," she replied, sneaking another swift kiss before
they entered the Great Hall.
Harry glanced up from his chess game with Ron, unable to keep his eyes
off Ginny for long. A warm feeling spread out, across the upper part of
his chest, and steadily flowed through every inch of him as he absorbed
her image. He watched her shake that glorious mane of hair free from the
daily restrictions that she now imposed upon it, despite his protests.
The multitude of colours danced in the candlelight, as it fell and then
swung to stillness once more. She crossed her very orange feet on the
table, making him idly wonder whose socks she was wearing today, and continued
to read her book, completely oblivious to his rapt attention.
Harry smiled to himself. He loved her with every ounce of his being,
and it amazed him each and every day that she could possibly feel the
same way. All the same, it was incredibly frustrating that they couldn't
spend the night together in the way they wanted. Quite aside from their
encounter with the House Elf, there had been another disastrous occasion
when they had sneaked out of Gryffindor Tower in the dead of night, down
to one of the Muggle Studies classrooms. A particularly passionate clinch
had resulted in them becoming so totally unaware of anything else, that
they'd collided with one of the tall bookcases, sending it crashing violently
to the ground. They'd had to flee that time as well, to escape the wrath
of Filch and Mrs Norris, pulling their clothes back on as they went. And
then, worst of all, there was the time when… Harry felt himself flushing
fiercely at the very thought of that incident.
"Your move," Ron said, interrupting his thoughts, and looking
curiously at his best friend. "Are you OK?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered vaguely, and moved his rook a few paces,
entirely oblivious to what that tactic would do to his game plan. It had
obviously done something interesting, because Ron bent his head over the
board again and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Harry stared back across at Ginny, who this time caught his eye and smiled
at him with a very intimate and knowing expression, making his pulse begin
to race in anticipation. The question was where should he take her? Hogwarts
was enormous, and technically they should be able to find a multitude
of solitary places, but certain factors made it very difficult. Locked
doors never deterred the ghosts, for example, so they had to be well away
from the usual areas they haunted. The thought of Peeves drifting in and
catching them made Harry shudder. Not to mention that the news would be
broadcast loudly within seconds in that loud cackling voice of his, and
if they were really unlucky he'd probably make up a rude rhyme
about it as well.
"Potter always looks at her
With expression so salacious.
I don't blame him, not one bit,
She's really quite delicious."
Much as Ginny loved poetry, Harry seriously doubted that she'd appreciate
the literary merits of such a thing, and besides, Ron had no idea what
they were up to and he'd probably have an apoplectic fit if confronted
by the little poltergeist singing something like that about his best friend
and little sister. Harry's mind ran riot over what Peeves could do with
phrases like 'flagrante delicto,' and blushed even more deeply, his cheeks
now radiating more warmth than the common room fire.
"What is up with you?" Ron asked incredulously, watching
Harry move his knight to a square in direct line of fire from Ron's bishop.
"Nothing," Harry asserted, rather too forcibly for it to ring
true. "Just not concentrating, I suppose."
Time ticked by agonisingly slowly, and Harry was still racking his brains
without any success whatsoever, until Hermione unwittingly came up with
a miraculous answer when she returned from the library.
"Hi there," she grinned at the pair of them, and dropping her
heavy bag on the floor with a thud, she settled beside Ron and sighed
"Bad day?" Ron asked her sympathetically, as she wriggled up
against him. His voice took on a teasing tone as he added, "Well,
if you must be Head Girl, I suppose these things are going to happen."
"Oh, they've been adding an extension to the library, and I've been
helping with the books," she said, sounding absolutely exhausted,
but quite excited by the idea at the same time. "I've never seen
wizard building before, you know. Dumbledore said we could create a couple
of new study rooms for the sixth and seventh years off the main part of
the library, and I've just been stocking the shelves in there with books.
It'll be great. Imagine all the work we can do without all the younger
ones disturbing us."
"Can't wait," Ron said, with a tinge of sarcasm. Then his eyes
lit up. "Although," he said slowly, a smile spreading across
his face, "It might be a good idea; it'll give us more privacy when
we're working down there."
Harry grinned wickedly. It certainly did sound perfect, especially as
he knew that the library was always completely deserted from about midnight
onwards. Just the thing.
The flames flickered energetically in the fireplace, casting lively rays
of light through the darkness, but the circular common room was devoid
of other signs of life. Harry had pretended to go to sleep earlier in
the dormitory, the scarlet drapes were firmly closed around his four-poster
bed, so that none of the others would suspect his absence. Wrapped in
his invisibility cloak, he crept stealthily back downstairs. He didn't
have to wait long. A rapid patter of footsteps on the stairs heralded
the arrival of the woman he loved, her long red hair swirling tempestuously
around her and as he watched, he felt a surge of longing filling his heart.
"Gin," he whispered hoarsely, swiftly pulling the hood of the
cloak down so she could see where he was. "Over here."
She enveloped herself in the folds of the cloak, and squeezed closely
to him so she disappeared from view completely to the outside world. His
arms slid instinctively around her, and their lips frantically sought
each other out, with a desperate sense combining love and lust and longing.
The warm moisture of her mouth, the sensation of her breath lightly brushing
across his skin made Harry forget the existence of everything but her.
His hands roamed freely, wanting to know and explore and love every inch
of her, but she caught his hands in hers.
"Not here," she whispered breathlessly. "I don't think
that's such a good idea."
"Library, then," he murmured in her ear, holding tightly to
one of her hands. And without another word, they slid through the portrait
hole and silently hurried along the corridors and down sets of staircases
until they rounded the corner that led to the newly extended library.
It was almost pitch black inside the large wood panelled room. The candles
had all been extinguished for the night, and the only source by which
they could see was a little moonlight trickling through the window, giving
a bluish tinge to the darkness. Towering stacks of books lined the room,
and usually seemed to be looming ominously over them, but tonight neither
Harry, nor Ginny, took any notice of them. The extra study rooms were
quickly located, and they locked themselves in the furthest one.
"Now then, Miss Weasley," Harry grinned at her as he pulled
the cloak off them, and moved with her to a secluded spot behind a set
of shelving. "Where were we?"
"About here, I think," she giggled softly, before kissing him
once more and enveloping them both in a world of spectacular fireworks
and deepest velvety darkness.
Quite some time later, she freed her mouth briefly from his, and giggled.
"I keep thinking about that elf," she admitted, breathing unsteady
and her eyes glistening through the darkness. "I keep thinking she's
going to come and take our clothes again."
Harry grinned down at her, seeing her hair tousled all over the floor
is every direction, and bent to nuzzle into the sensitive spot on her
neck, making her purr with pleasure.
"Got an idea," he said, voice muffled against her skin. He
reached for his wand, and waved it at their discarded items:
Suddenly the clothing was magically lifted from both shelving and floor
and whirled into mid-air, vanishing as it neared the ceiling.
"What did you do?" Ginny asked in astonishment.
"The spell's concealed them," Harry chuckled. "Still there,
"Very clever," she whispered, rolling over to kiss him again.
Suddenly, they heard a noise, and they both froze. Harry could feel the
muscles in her back tauten under his hand, and they held their breath,
listening to the silence, which thickened around them. A footfall. There
was someone out there. Harry groaned inwardly. This couldn't be happening
again. He reached for the cloak. It was gone. The panic flooded
through him, as he suddenly realised that it must be up on the ceiling
with everything else, and to release that would be to release everything.
Ginny had seen his frantic expression and understood, her eyes widening
in horror. The footsteps were coming nearer, and with a last desperate
glance at Harry, Ginny turned her wand on herself, and transfigured easily
into a paint pot, nestled amongst the others littering the floor from
Filch's decorating earlier in the day. Harry felt a good deal less secure
about doing transfiguration, but what other option did he have? The door
handle turned. Concentrating with all his might, he changed shape into
a leather bound tome, leaning casually against the end of the shelving.
A distinctive shape strolled into the room, candle in his hand, casting
the hooked nose and greasy black hair of the Potions Master into clear
view. Harry didn't dare think of anything other than remaining a book.
His transfiguration was shaky at the best of times, unlike Ginny, who
could transform for hours on end. The last thing he needed right now was
to pop back into his regular shape. The embarrassment of that didn't bear
"Think book," he repeated to himself.
Snape had passed the paint pots and was stooping ever lower towards the
spot where Harry was. His bony finger traced the legends along the spines
of the books, clearly searching for something. Harry held his breath.
Snape paused, looking right at him, and tapped him sharply, giving a snort
of disgust under his breath.
"'The Rise and Fall of Harry Potter,'" he read in quietly
scornful tones. "As if that boy isn't big headed enough already."
Harry kept perfectly still, and Snape moved on, grasping a volume from
further down the row and pulling it out of the stack. Harry would have
been seething in fury, had it not been for the sight of the light blue
pot of paint directly opposite him, changing very steadily into a fetching
shade of embarrassed red.
Snape flicked through the pages, and turned to go. He was a metre away
from the door, when he uttered a cry of surprise as something tumbled
from the ceiling and caught him between the eyes. Harry craned as far
as he could to see, almost falling off the shelf in his efforts.
"How very interesting," Snape muttered to himself, picking
up the projectile from the floor and examining it in candlelight. The
socks were clearly visible, and the orange of the Chudley Cannons shone
vibrantly in the half-light, broomstick on one sock and a cannon ball
flying across the other. "Weasley," Snape said, looking around,
as if expecting to see Ron right there behind him. "This wasn't here
earlier. He's been down here after hours tonight, no doubt with Granger.
Well, we shall see about that." He stalked purposefully out, and
the door clicked shut behind him.
There was a very long pause.
Ginny reappeared looking extremely flushed, and Harry fought his way
out of the confines of the bookshelf, reaching for her, to reassure her.
She bit her lip, and he saw a mixture of horror and mischievous delight
playing across her face.
"Ron's never going to let me steal his socks again," Ginny whispered.
She giggled a little, and then glanced impishly up at Harry. "So, do you
know of any good books I can read tonight?"
Continued in Socks,
Sex and Slugs