Forbidden Fruit

A/N: This story was presented to me as a challenge – a drunken challenge by one of my editors during the thick of Ghost of You. As the booze started to flow the idea of writing a lighthearted and hilarious coming of age story seemed like an incredible idea.

**UPDATE - I am now very proud and happy to announce that you CAN read the other half of this story! Wouldn't you like to know what Harry was thinking the whole time? Pop on over to "Forbidden Fruit" written by Anonymous Grunt. You will not be disappointed.

I hope you enjoy this fun little AU romp during GOF as much as I did writing it.

Ginny Weasley watched as Harry raised the hammer up above his head one more time and slammed it down onto the spike that Ron was holding. She watched his shoulders flex across the taught fabric of his robes and tried to quiet her rapidly beating heart. Harry let out a little huff and looked at the tent before raising his arm and wiping the sweat off his forehead. The movement mussed his hair into thick clumpy pieces all over his dark head. He then adjusted his glasses and looked over at her, and Ginny's heart fluttered in her chest.

"There, Hermione, all done." He said and threw the hammer down to the grass. Ginny looked to her side, suddenly shaken from her ogling, to remember that Hermione was standing next to her. Her stomach dropped out, it was as if he'd looked right through her.

"With no help from either of you. You're the only other person who knows what a bloody tent is anyway, Hermione. Great lot of help you've been." Ron grumbled and stood up from the grass. Ginny saw Hermione's cheeks flush a bit before she set her face to a snarl and snapped,

"Harry's not complaining, why must everything always be such a chore for you, Ronald?"

"I don't mind…" Harry started but then quickly stopped; he just shook his head and bent down to grab the hammer. Ron and Hermione had been at it all summer break, it was almost enough to give you a headache. Ginny watched Harry as he twirled the hammer around in his hand and gave a quick glance at both his friends.

"A chore?" Ron screwed up his face, a dead giveaway that he was coming very close to an explosion on his temper. "What stopped you from helping? Why not get down here with us? We could have finished the job faster."

"Because it's not proper, Ron." Hermione looked at Ginny with an incredulous face, "don't you agree, Ginny?"

"I…" Ginny started and then stopped immediately. Hermione had already turned back to Ron, ready to unleash some kind of verbal lashing. From the corner of her eye she saw Harry's shoulders start to bounce with unshed laughter and she gave him a dark look. Harry grinned and shrugged his shoulders, she rolled her eyes, he smiled, she smiled, and then Hermione grabbed her arm.

"Come on, Ginny." Hermione tugged and she was being drug away. "I'm sure they don't want Bill and Charlie on their case as well."

Ginny gave one last fleeting look to Harry over her shoulder, he gave her a small wave, and they descended into the tent. Hermione let her go and she heard Ron call out,

"Come on, Harry, let's build this third bloody tent." Then he raised his voice and shouted, "ALONE!"

"Ugh!" Hermione steamed and fell back onto one of the beds. Hermione fumed in silence for a moment before sitting up and sniffing the air a bit. "Does it smell like cat in here?"

"Yes, the tent used to…" Ginny started but Hermione cut right over her.

"The nerve of him!" Hermione jumped up from the bed and started pacing back and forth across the tiny tent. "It would not be decent for me to be crawling around on the grass with the two of them!"

"I suppose." Ginny sat down on her bed and looked fore lonely at the flap of their tent. She would have built the tent with the boys if it meant more time with Harry.

"I just know it's going to be like this all year." Hermione stopped and ran her hands over her bushy hair.

"Like what?" Ginny settled down on the bed, it did smell horribly of cat in here. She wondered if she could get her Dad to use a few air freshening charms before nightfall.

"The two of them treating me like a boy!" Hermione yelled. Ginny shrank back a bit. At least they treated her like anything; Ginny was as good as wallpaper to Harry and a constant annoyance to Ron.

"No they don't." Ginny tried to pacify. Hermione set crazed eyes upon her and took a few steps toward their beds.

"Yes they do! Do you know what Ron sent me this summer before I made it over to your house?" Hermione crossed her arms.

"Candy?" Ginny offered.

"Dungbombs. He'd found them in Fred and George's room and thought I might enjoy them. What would I do with dungbombs?" Hermione threw her hands in the air.

"Use them?" Ginny cautiously answered, wary of the next explosion.

"And then when I got here yesterday, how did your brother greet me? He didn't hug me like Harry did. He punched me in the arm!" Hermione simmered, her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms again and started tapping her foot.

"That's good, though? Right? At least he touched you at all." Ginny said and watched as Hermione shifted her squinty eyes at her. Ginny swallowed hard.

"Do you know how many times Harry has taken his shirt off around me?" Hermione continued in a dark voice.

"How many?" Ginny gulped and tried to stop the blush that crept up from her chest at the thought of Harry with any amount of clothing off.

"Too many!" Hermione snapped and sat back down on her bed. "It's disgusting, I don't want to see that! Half the time, he doesn't even register that I'm there: he thinks I'm a boy."

"But you'd like to see Ron with his shirt off?" Ginny teased. She couldn't help it. If she was going to be forced to stay in a tent with a fuming Hermione she would at least attempt to poke a little fun at her.

"Ron," Hermione groaned, let out an exasperated sigh, and looked for her backpack, avoiding Ginny's eyes. But Ginny had caught the flash of blush across her cheeks.

"Hermione, I'm sure they know you're a girl. It's just that you are their best friend; you're always doing all these gross and dangerous things with them. I think the line has just blurred a little. At least they talk to you, and not at you." Ginny grumbled and kicked her shoes off.

Hermione heaved her backpack onto her bed and started pulling out all sorts of magazines. Ginny glanced at the covers but they weren't moving, just pictures of teenage girls smiling and looking happy.

"They don't talk at you." Hermione said as she tossed her now seemingly empty backpack toward the floor and spread the magazines across her bed. Ginny stood up and went to look at them herself. "I saw you flirting with Harry."

"Flirting?" Ginny laughed.

"Yes, flirting!" Hermione turned toward her and smiled. "He smiled, you smiled. That's flirting."

"Whatever, Hermione." Ginny picked up a magazine. "I'm not going to get my hopes up."

"Ginny I think you'd be surprised if you tried. You've gotten quite pretty over the summer." Hermione picked up a magazine. "Not that you weren't before." She quickly amended.

"You don't have to worry, I'm not Lavender." Ginny giggled and opened a magazine. "What are these? Muggle magazines?"

"Yes, my Mum bought them for me. She said that they had all sorts of tips for makeup and hair, and flirting." Hermione gave a little laugh.

"Your Mum willingly gave you magazines about flirting?" Ginny dropped hers in surprise back down to the bed.

"It's all harmless, really. Lots of 'smile at the boy, twirl your hair, bat your eyelashes, play hard to get'. We see that every day at Hogwarts. But I did want to try a hairstyle I saw in one of these." Hermione started sifting through the stack. She pulled out one of the magazines and flipped to the middle section. It was a very complicated looking up-do.

"How could we do this without magic?" Ginny picked the magazine up and looked closer at the girl and the directions. There were only about five directions and that seemed entirely too few for such a complicated hairstyle.

"I brought some things." Hermione dove into her backpack and came out with a package of combs and hair pins and some kind of can.

"What's in the can?" Ginny eyed it nervously.

"Hairspray. I think I'm going to need a lot of it. It's like a sticking charm, but for Muggles." Hermione popped the lid off and pressed down on the button at the top of the can. It let out an awful smelling, thick cloud of white and Ginny started coughing.

"Won't this kill you?" Ginny swatted at the air.

"No, but it is supposed to make my hair stay exactly in place." Hermione dropped her styling products to the bed. "Do you want to try it out?"

"Why not?" Ginny shrugged and picked up a comb. Hermione nodded and moved across the tent to bring a chair over and set it between their beds. She sat down and Ginny set the magazine at the small side table between the beds before picking up the comb again and starting to gently brush Hermione's hair.

"Oh," Hermione turned around and grinned. "Didn't you have some story to tell me?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny worked out a knot in her curls.

"Before we left with the portkey. You told me you had to tell me something. Something that had happened to you…" Hermione dropped off and gave her a brilliant grin, "with Harry."

"Oh." Ginny stopped brushing. "That."

"Do you not want to tell me?" Hermione's face dropped a bit and Ginny smiled at her.

"It's not that exciting."

"Anything will be better than Ron punching me in the arm and sending me dungbombs, Ginny." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back around. Ginny set the comb through her hair again and took a deep breath.

"Well, the day before we were about to leave he cornered me in the hallway." Ginny focused on another knot in her friend's endlessly curly hair.

"Cornered you? How?" Hermione pressed.

"I was leaving my room, and it's right by the bathroom, you know. So there is this kind of corner. As I'm leaving my room he's just suddenly there, like he was waiting for me." Ginny combed her hair again looking for any further tangles.

"Waiting for you?" Hermione pondered. Ginny felt her eyes lose focus a little bit as she remembered the moment; how the shock of seeing him there was quickly replaced by her fear. She didn't want to blush; if she blushed he might read too much into it. She had taken a stumbling step back and Harry had followed with a step forward. She felt her heart speed up in her chest, just as it had yesterday, and felt her breath go a little shallow.

"Yes. He kind of approached me and grinned a bit." Ginny smiled at the memory. A little half grin had spread across his face, his hair was messed across his forehead, and he had leaned toward her, smelling of sweat and grass, and whispered…

"Well, what happened?" Hermione turned around, and Ginny realized she'd stopped brushing Hermione's hair and was just keeping her hands suspended in the air as she remembered.

"Oh," Ginny blushed, Hermione grinned. "He asked me if I could tell him what happened with Fred and George."

"Something else happened? Other then that horrible ton tongue taffy thing?" Hermione's eyes bugged out a bit.

"Yeah," Ginny nodded and looked at the directions again. The next step was to twirl large sections of hair into twists and pin them to Hermione's scalp. She pulled out the box of hair pins and grabbed a section of hair.

"What happened?" Hermione turned back around. "With both, Harry and the twins."

"With Harry I kind of froze up, I didn't know what to say. And then my Mum called me downstairs so I kind of moved around him and left." Ginny pinned the first twist to Hermione's scalp and started twisting the second section.

"Ah, that's too bad. You should have told him. It could have been a secret you both shared!" Hermione sighed out into the tent as Ginny continued to manipulate her hair. "What did the twins do?"

"Let's just say that Dudley wasn't the first person they tried that taffy on." Ginny put a pin between her lips and gave a twist with both her hands to Hermione's hair before pinning it again.

"Oh Lord, who did they try it on? You?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder; Ginny turned Hermione's head back forward and grabbed the second to last section of hair to twist.

"No, this Muggle boy down in town. Luckily Dad grabbed it back before the boy could eat it, but I've never seen my Dad that angry before. My Mum, yes, but my Dad… It was scary." Ginny pinned the hair and picked up the last section.

"Why did Harry even ask you? Wouldn't Ron have told him?" Hermione asked and then put her hands up to feel the twists all over her head. Ginny gave them a glance as well, they were kind of romantic looking in a way, all those curls being contained in twists upon her head. Tiny little wisps were framing Hermione's face and neck. Ginny smiled, nodded, and then looked at the next direction. Now she'd have to braid the hair. She hadn't braided in a while and gave the river of brown curls a wary look.

"Ron has complete solidarity with the twins. If they told him not to say anything he won't say anything." Ginny started the braid.

"But that's wonderful that Harry came to you next! He waited until you were alone, and he tried to talk to you in private. These are all great signs Ginny." Hermione turned back to smile at her and Ginny moved her hands with Hermione's turning head so she wouldn't lose hold on the braid.

"I think you are reading far too much into this." Ginny tugged her head back and Hermione's shoulders seemed to tense for a moment before she said in an excited voice,

"No. No I'm not reading into anything. I think you need to tell him. I think you need to corner him!"

"Hermione," Ginny sighed and grabbed a hair tie to secure the braid. Ginny looked at the next direction, now she had to make the braid a bun and secure it with more hair pins. She shoved about twelve into her mouth, holding onto them with her teeth and got to work.

"Ginny, listen to me! Even if I am reading into it, this is still a chance for you to talk to him. You seem to think that you don't have anything in common, although you two have everything in common. This is a great chance!" Hermione clapped, she sounded a bit too excited for what the situation would ensure. Most likely Ginny would tell him, Harry would laugh, and then leave her alone again. She'd be back to wallpaper status before he'd even leave her line of sight.

"No way." Ginny said through her teeth as she secured the bun on Hermione's head.

"Am I friends with Harry or am I not?" Hermione sassed.

"Oh, and you'd do the same with Ron?" Ginny grumbled through her teeth, two bobby pins still held between them. She shoved the last two in and took a step back. "Voila!"

"Last step," Hermione leaned forward and grabbed the can of Muggle hair sticking-whatever and handed it up to Ginny. "Just spray it all over my head so nothing moves. I think we should both hold our breath."

Ginny popped the top off the can and took a big breath. She pushed down on the button and a giant cloud of white shot out of the can and all over the back of Hermione's head. Ginny continued to hold down the button and moved the can all around as Hermione covered her face with her hands. Sure enough all the tiny fly-away hairs started to stick back down to the hairdo. Ginny's lungs started to burn so she gave Hermione's head one last spray before stopping and letting out her breath. Both girls immediately started coughing and quickly moved away from the still hanging cloud of disgusting chemical air around the chair toward the front flap of the tent. Ginny looked at the can in her hand thinking a skull and crossbones should have been on the front, nothing but poison was in that can.

"How does it look?" Hermione coughed and moved toward a picture hanging on one of the tent walls. She tried to look at herself in the reflecting glass.

"Beautiful." Ginny coughed and grabbed her side, the can made a sloshing sound as it hit against her hip. "I really like it Hermione."

"Thanks." Hermione smiled and touched her hair. It almost looked like Hermione's hand bounced off her hair there was so much of that sticking spray on it. Suddenly there was a scratching sound at the outside of their tent and both girls' eyes snapped toward the opening.

"Hermione," Harry's voice called out from the other side and Ginny felt her stomach drop into her feet. "Open up, I need your advice."

Ginny felt the can drop out of her numb hands and thump against the floor. Hermione spun around, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Go Ginny! You answer the door." Hermione whispered.

"No! There is no way! I will not do that!" Ginny furiously whispered back.

"This is your big chance!" Hermione whisper implored, and then raised her voice to call out, "don't open the flap!"

Hermione pointed at the door a couple times, stamped her foot a bit, and then hissed through her teeth, "you'll never get anywhere with him if you refuse to even try."

"I can't, Hermione. I can't." Ginny pleaded, still whispering.

"We're not indecent, just stay there a moment." Hermione called out to Harry and leaned forward to grab Ginny's arm and tug her toward the front of the flap. Ginny dodged out of her hands, the flap opened to almost blinding afternoon light, and about a dozen water globes went flying through the opening, every single one hitting Hermione and her hair. Each globe exploded with a spectacular splash, and Ginny felt her mouth drop open with shock. Hermione sucked in a sharp gasp, and she heard two sets of footfalls take off running before either girl could even react.

Hermione stood there, frozen for a moment as her hair fell in damp clumps across her shoulders and into her face, she shook some water off her hands, and then let out a shriek of indignation. Ginny ran over to the closet and grabbed a towel. As she handed it to Hermione her friend pushed some hair out of her face and gave Ginny a meaningful look,

"I might as well shave my head and give up. I will always be a boy to Harry and your brother."

"Hermione," Ginny soothed, but Hermione waved an angry hand at her and moved into the small bathroom in their tent. Ginny took a deep breath, the air thick with a horrible mix of chemicals and wet cat. She quickly moved out into the bustling, humid air of the Quidditch World Cup commencing all around her.

Ginny had wandered around for a bit, letting Hermione cool off alone, before making her way back into their tent. Hermione was sitting on her bed looking at all the magazines again.

"I was thinking of going over toward the main area, there is supposed to be some very interesting Arithmancy in this region that pertains to the configurations of the Celtic runes here. Bridget Wenlock spoke about this area in my textbook for this year. Did you want to go with me?" Hermione tossed the magazines aside.

"Uh," Ginny laughed and shook her head. "No thanks Hermione."

"Suit yourself," Hermione shrugged and pulled her, now dry, hair back into a ponytail and left the tent. Not even a few minutes after Hermione's departure Ginny heard her father's laugh quickly followed by Harry's voice saying,

"Have I ever told you about convection ovens?"

"I don't believe you have." Her father replied and their voices started to muffle as they walked away from the tent. Ginny watched the flap of the tent for a moment wondering what Ron was doing if Harry was with her father, and then realizing that he was probably up to no good she grabbed the stack of magazines off of Hermione's bed and sat down on her own.

Her family never had enough money for extras like teenage girl magazines and hair care products. Ginny had been using the same shampoo and reading the same outdated magazines for the past three years. Even if they were Muggle she figured they'd have the same information, well at least the basics, that she could gather. She looked at the first magazine, the cover promising the "Ten Secrets to Make Him Want You Now!" Ginny rolled her eyes skeptically, but turned to the page.

For the next hour or so she read several different articles from several different magazines that all basically had the same information. She heard her Dad and Harry come back around toward their tent and leaned back on the bed. Hermione still wasn't back. She wasn't going to go looking for her, Hermione was probably still poring over rocks or something; Ginny had never been very good at Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. She didn't want to go wandering around again, she didn't have much money to spend and everyone was stupidly drunk. She picked up the next magazine in the stack and looked at the cover.

Sick of Being a Wallflower?

The four things you need to know to get what you want

Ginny pursed her lips, interested. She decided to kill time by slowly flipping through this magazine. After pages and pages of the same information she had seen in the dozen or so magazines before it she came across the article that had peaked her interest. After reading the brief, and obnoxious, intro she looked at the first bulleted point:

Fortune Favors the Brave

Do you keep shying away from situations that would further your progress with your crush? Do you blush at his smiles? Do you run from chances to talk to him? Do you feel as if you don't deserve his attention? If you ever want to make any progress in any capacity in your life you should remember this first point. Fortune always favors the brave, and you are not being brave. Talk to him, laugh at his joke, don't be bothered by your blush. We can almost guarantee that he's going to enjoy your company. Who knows maybe he'll even blush too!

Ginny stared hard at the magazine. It was almost as if the article had been written just for her. Outside her tent she heard her obnoxious brother's voice mix with her Father's as they passed her tent. But no Harry. What were those boys up to today? Probably just planning their next assault on Hermione. Ginny smiled at the thought and looked down at the magazine again. Fortune favors the brave. She was sorted into Gryffindor for a reason. She was acting like a Hufflepuff. That was totally unacceptable! A sense of purpose filled her and she stood from the bed tossing the magazine aside.

She should go talk to Harry. She should go tell him about what Fred and George did. She should take Hermione's advice and just talk to him. What's the worst that could happen? Quickly her brain filled with the scenarios that could go wrong. He could laugh at her for wanting to share something like that. He could tell her she's a liar and he didn't believe her. He could ignore her. Merlin, that would be the worst. He could ignore her altogether and she'd feel even smaller than she did before. Panic overrode her purpose and she sat back down on her bed. Then in the back of her mind she heard her hidden sense of bravery shout out that Harry would never do that.

Ginny nodded to herself. That was true, Harry was always polite. He would at least listen to her; he would pay attention to her story and react to it. Then after she was done he might ignore her. But then she would only be back at where she started, nothing lost. Bravery filled her chest and she pushed up from the bed. Without giving herself a second chance to chicken out she strode out of the tent and across the small thicket of grass between them and stopped in front of the boy's tent. She couldn't really hear anything from inside the tent. Maybe he wasn't even there. Maybe Ron was just running interference while Harry was the one about to terrorize Hermione with their next prank. Ginny looked around for any sign of either of them; nothing.

She paused at the flap of the tent and then took a deep breath. Maybe no one was in there, but maybe Harry really was alone. If he was alone this was her chance to talk to him. Fortune favors the brave; she chanted in her mind and carefully pulled back the flap. It made barely any sound as she looked down at her feet to ensure she didn't trip on her entrance to the tent and make an arse out of herself right up front. As she lifted her eyes she felt her mouth quickly drop open and all the breath in her chest froze.

Oh. My. Merlin.

There was no way this could be real. Harry Potter was laid out before her; naked as the day he was born. Ginny didn't know what to take in first. All at once it was a momentous amount of flesh, and then it shifted to be specific things: the lines of his shoulders, the taught muscles in his arms, his heaving chest, and then lower…she felt herself instantly turn scarlet. Her eyes roamed lower, and lower against the building anxiety that she would get caught. She looked at his flat stomach, the muscles there that were flexing and relaxing as he…she swallowed hard. She told her brain to move, she told her legs to run, she told her eyes to look away and just flee from the room. Nothing responded to her pleas. Her eyes ventured further down taking notes meticulously on each inch of skin. She felt everything within herself freeze as she dared to look at…him.

His hand was moving pretty fast, it was sort of blurring her view a bit but, and she couldn't be sure because she didn't have much to compare it against, it seemed as if Harry was on the above average size. Last year she had burst into the bathroom as George was taking care of 'the deed'. She had only seen it for a flash of a moment before he had all but hexed her out of the bathroom. He avoided her like she had Dragon Pox for two weeks after that, refusing to meet her eyes. The year before that she had stumbled into Charlie's room and caught him. Charlie hadn't been as quick as George and she had gotten an eyeful before Charlie had actually hexed her out of his room. He had left back for Romania shortly after that, avoiding dinner and Christmas that year. She blinked and looked harder for a moment. It was definitely bigger then what she previous had to judge against.

Harry shifted a little on the bed; his eyes squeezed tight, and seemed to make a tiny noise of relief in his throat before carrying on with more intensity. His body started to curl a bit in, she saw his chest and his cheeks flush, she saw the lights catch off the sheen of sweat on his back. The room felt like it pulsed around her. She tried again, in vain, to look away, but she couldn't. She couldn't now. Something deep within her started to flutter and pulse, it hit right between her hips and flared across and down, lingering between her legs with a thumping before shooting down them. Her breath started to catch in her chest, she tried to quiet it, her heart was pounding in her ears, she licked her lips.

The space between her legs, the area she usually didn't paid that kind of attention to, gave a aching, tingling, pound and she felt the tiniest moan break free from her throat. Almost instantly after her noise Harry seemed to bear down further and coil upon himself. The room faded from view, her eyes focused solely on him, her body pounded with each quick heart beat, and he seemed to jerk forward, his hips thrusting, and he clenched his jaw tight before he growled in a deep and raspy voice,


She started panting, she didn't know why but she did. Had he? Had he just said her name? No…no, no, no. There was no way. But his strangled voice echoed in her mind and she was almost certain that he had. Her entire body started to tingle, like a live wire, each nerve ending shooting off sparks, and they all led back down toward the pounding, aching, heating pulse deep in her pelvis. She felt her lips swell, her chest burned scarlet, her mind seemed to fuzz off a bit and she swayed on her feet. In that same instant Harry's voice broke off into a deep sound of exertion and something squirted out of him and onto his blanket. He started convulsing, shaking and breathing heavy, and then just stopped. His eyes still closed he tilted his head up toward the ceiling and started sucking in large breaths of air. The pounding within her started to turn into a tickle, this strange feeling that was not funny, but not painful. It was a highly enjoyable feeling and she continued to watch him, burning into her brain exactly how he looked without any clothes on, detailing every muscle, every line, and especially how it all seemed to look so much better when he was covered in sweat. The stirring of enjoyable emotions and the electric current in her body buzzed together to create a swell of something so overwhelming that she actually closed her eyes as they attempted to roll to the back of her head.

Instantly she snapped her eyes back open. She had to get out of here. His breath was slowing down, his body was relaxing, he was going to open his eyes at any moment and see her standing there, bright red and shocked. With more effort than she had ever willed upon herself before she tore her eyes away and ordered her feet to move. They quickly shuffled out of the tent, away from Harry, and all that she had just witnessed. She didn't even bother trying to be quiet on her escape. A part of her wanted him to know, and another part of her was pounding with such intensity that she couldn't focus on anything else. She sucked in a large breath of cool air and started to walk back toward her tent. Each step made her let out a little noise in the back of her throat. That emotion, that electric current was building, each step making it buzz harder and stronger within her. She ripped open the flap to her tent and stumbled in.

Hermione still wasn't back and she made a quick dash for the bathroom. She locked the door, turned on the bath and stared at the floor for a long moment, panting and feeling like she was shaking. The bathroom started to become incredibly humid and she peeled off her robes so she was just down to her undergarments. The loss of clothes made her pounding twinge with the tickle and she took a steadying breath. She had to do something about this; it wasn't going to go away. There had only been a few times in her life that she had even had a hinting of this kind of feeling before. Those other times she had just breathed deeply and thought of Quidditch and it had slowly gone away. But this time, Merlin, this time it seemed to just be building in her toward some kind of explosion.

The bathroom filled with more steam and she felt claustrophobic as she battled with the heat and her throbbing body. She took off her undergarments and slowly lowered herself into the almost scalding water. The water rushing over her skin made her shake as the feelings swelled again, another wave washed over her of eclectic nerve endings and that deep aching. She closed her eyes, and slid all the way down in the tub letting the water run over her head, she came back up and kept her eyes closed, and all she could see was Harry. That wasn't unusual, he was always at the forefront of her mind, but this time…this time he didn't have any clothes on.

She squeezed her eyes tighter and shifted in the tub, rubbing her thighs together in an attempt to get more comfortable and felt everything within her gave a jolt, she involuntarily felt a groaning moan escape from her throat, and a shot of Harry's shoulders swam into view in front of her closed eyes. She started to feel frantic. Thinking of Quidditch was not going to make this go away, in fact when she tried to think of Quidditch all she could see was Harry in his Quidditch robes and how they seemed to cut around his body showing off the most attractive parts of him: arms, shoulders, backside…She felt her mind start to focus down. It blocked out the slight buzz of noise outside the tent, it blocked out the sloshing of the water as she squirmed within it, it blocked out the visible cloud of steam that was sticking in the air around her, it blocked out her embarrassment about what she was about to do. Because it seemed that her brain had made a decision, there was no way it was going to will this feeling away.

She grabbed onto the very new memory of Harry and concentrated on it. The way his stomach muscles had contracted to show how flat and taught he was, how his arm had flexed a bit showing off his bicep, and that sheen of sweat all over his body filled her and she let her hand move. Her fingers moved from the bottom of her breast lightly touching the soft skin there before sliding down her water-covered ribs. She remembered how flushed she had immediately gotten and that first rush of blood she'd felt move to the space between her legs. Her hand moved down her stomach, feeling it tremble and shake under her roaming fingers. In rapid secession she saw Harry's smile for her after he'd built the tent, his little wave, and then that grin as he'd cornered her back at the Burrow. She pressed her lips together and let her hand go the final few inches. Her fingers spread over the throbbing and she swallowed the moan that attempted to escape. This would be quick.

As her fingers circled around the pulsing cluster of hidden nerves her brain gave her something she always daydreamed about but never acted on. The fantasy came over her as the bathroom faded away. Suddenly she was back in Harry's tent, and this time he just had his boxers on, dark blue ones, he looked at her shocked for a moment before giving her that mischievous smile he'd given her at the Burrow and moved toward her. Her brain fast forwarded for her skipping the witty small talk she always added in. This time he looked her over with dark green, lustfully dilated eyes and ran his hand to the back of her head to pull her in for a kiss.

She turned her head before his lips could touch and his kisses grazed down her neck as he pulled her toward the bed. She barely registered her other hand starting to roam across her body as Harry laid her down on the bed. He wasted little time, pushing her robes up past her hips and running his hand up her leg to wrap a finger around her panties and pull them down. Her entire body shivered in anticipation, her fingers started rub the circle harder and faster, her other hand caressed her inner thigh, as fantasy Harry pulled her panties off and tossed them out into the darkness of the room. She bit her bottom lip and sunk lower in the water, her body starting to thrum with blood and anticipation.

Harry lowered himself on top of her, his eyes met hers for a moment and then he shifted his hips around to settle between her thighs and she felt something push through her aching. The water started to slosh a bit up into her face, hitting against her chin in tiny waves as steady as the ocean as her imaginary Harry started to move back and forth on top of her. She could feel his quick breaths fall on her ear; she imagined his weight on top of her as he continued to buck his hips toward her. Her body gave another shudder, everything within her started to clench around her fingers as they continued to mimic the thrusts of her fantasy. It built and built inside her, spinning and spinning tighter in her chest, her breath started to catch a bit in her throat, like she was gasping for air, every muscle in her body started to harden in some type of preparation.

Fantasy Harry pulled away from her shoulder and ear and met eyes with her, their foreheads almost touching and she heard his voice rumble out her name,


Her world exploded. The coiled anticipation within her blasted out, her body started to shake and tremble without her volition, there was a frantic, fluttering clamping on her fingers, all while the other hand continued to rub against the nerves sending bolts from her center out to her arms and legs. A desperate moan started to build in her throat, it tried to break out of her mouth as a scream, and her body continued to convulse upon itself sending gulps of water into her now open mouth as she almost submerged completely in the hot water.

The images of Harry started to fade; her body started to relax, and then randomly shake and shiver as she removed her hands and gasped in the humid air. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she could feel the blood thrumming through her body, and with a giant breath she sank into the water and let go riding the incredible feeling of calm and satisfaction. She could fall asleep; it felt like she had just run a great distance or played an extremely long game of Quidditch. Her eyes released their squeezed hold and she felt her consciousness start to slip away.


She smiled as another thought of Harry crossed her mind, at Hogwarts in his robes, his hair looking disheveled across his forehead as he waited for her to answer him. She took in another lungful of sticky air and sighed.

"Ginny are you in there?" Hermione's voice came from the other side of the door.

Ginny shot her eyes open, the water stinging as she shifted her gaze to the door. Instantly she was grateful that Hermione always had enough manners to never open a closed door. She summoned, deep within her exhausted yet happy self, the will to speak and called out,

"Just a moment."

As she tried to sit up her body gave another involuntary convulsion and she smiled to herself. She felt fantastic. She'd never felt this kind of…elation before. She pulled the plug on the bathtub and turned on the shower head to quickly wash herself off, grinning madly but feeling exhausted. After she had toweled off and threw her robes back on she opened the door letting the steam follow her out into the tent. Hermione looked up from a textbook on her bed and gave her a peculiar look,

"Do you feel alright, Ginny? You look really red."

"Water was hot." Ginny smiled and pulled her damp hair back into a haphazard bun on the back of her head. "I think I'm going to go sit outside for a bit, cool off."

"Alright." Hermione shrugged and looked back down at her book. Ginny pushed through the flap of the tent and sucked in a lungful of clean, cool air. She leaned against one of the poles of the tent and looked out at the campfires and drunken celebration around her. Then, from the corner of her eye a dark shadow started to move toward her. The moonlight caught off his jet black hair and glinted a bit on his glasses and Ginny felt her body give a, now familiar, jolt.

Harry looked over, met eyes with her, and then gave her a weak smile.

"Hello, Ginny."

Her stomach started to bubble and tremble with the usual anxiety, but now it was mixed with a whole new feeling – lust. She looked at him for a moment, remembering what she had walked in on, remembering what she had pleasured herself to, and was filled with a feeling of absolute bravery.

"So did you want me to tell you what Fred and George did?"

"What?" He smiled at her and moved to stand close.

"You know, before we left for the World Cup." She gestured out to everything around them. Harry smirked and nodded, moving himself to stand right in front of her so they were face to face, his full attention upon her. She felt a little blush form but smiled and said, "Your cousin wasn't the first person they tried that taffy on."

"Oh really?" Harry laughed. She so rarely heard him laugh that it made her giggle a bit as well.

"Yep, my Dad snatched the piece of taffy out of some Muggle boy's hand down in town before he could eat it. But you should have seen it, Harry! I've never seen my Dad that angry before." She smiled and laughed.

"Oh I sure it was fantastic!" He nodded and looked away for a moment, as if imagining it in his mind. "Too bad."

"Yeah, too bad." Ginny smiled, took a deep breath, and looked away. She tucked a piece of damp hair behind her ear and bit her lip waiting for him to give his reason to leave. When he didn't she looked back up to see his eyes looking her over and then he seemed to jump a bit at being caught and cleared his throat,

"I was about to…" he trailed off, and in the silver light of the moon she swore she saw a blush burn onto his cheeks.

"Alright," she smugly smiled to herself as he continued to look anywhere but at her. "I'll see you around."

"Night, Ginny." He grinned and then quickly took off past her tent. Ginny pulled the flap back and went back into her own tent to see Hermione lift her gaze from her text book and give her a knowing smile.

"Yeah, yeah. You're always right." Ginny laughed and fell onto her bed. Hermione let out a tiny laugh and looked back down at her book. And Ginny closed her eyes and fell into a blissful sleep.