FicWad

So he did. From the beginning, leaving nothing out, not even his conversations with Sirius and Ron. Her frown grew darker, but she stayed silent throughout the entire long, complex tale. Then, without a word, she stood up and walked around the tree and to the edge of the steep riverbank, and stood there staring down into the water.

Harry stayed where he was, watching her, knowing she needed time to adjust.

She reached into her pocket and pulled her wand halfway out before shuddering and shoving it back down, then stood there, trembling hands clenched at her sides. The bit of Dark energy in Harry still vibrated in sympathy with that in her, but where before it was with a sensual hunger to touch, now he could feel it pulsing with hot, burning rage-- a need to fight, to lash out, to glory in the delicious release that destruction would bring. Even in such a small dose, it was an uncomfortably powerful feeling.

"Ginny," he said, softly.

"You... you should leave," she said, her voice tight and strained.

"The Ministry can't detect wandless magic," he said. "But your brothers and parents would ask questions if you did something that made noise."

"I'm... not... going to do... anything," she gritted out, starting to shake. "I promise. But... I... I need... I have to calm down!"

"Would it help?" he asked.

"I don't know! I've never given in to it before! And I'm not going to now! This would be... the wrong one to break on. I just know it would be... really bad."

Harry looked at her for a moment. "Kiss me," he said.

She whimpered, and it turned into a strangled moan as she turned and took a few steps towards him. Then she stopped and closed her eyes tightly, sweat breaking out on her brow. "You should go," she repeated hoarsely.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We have to support each other. Kiss me."

She stumbled forward, fighting each step. "No," she whispered. "Not... like this." She fell to her knees a couple of feet from where he was sitting, almost within reach. "I wanted you to want me too..."

"I do," he said. "I-- I don't know what... but I do."

"Help me, please help me." She looked up at him, golden brown eyes shimmering with tears. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Harry thought for a moment. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Then... let me hold you. Just hold you, nothing more, right now," he said.

Ginny nodded again, jerkily. "Please..."

He reached out for her, pulling her into his arms. "I've got you," he said, gently. "It's okay."

She moaned and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, plastering herself against him. She was shaking so hard it had to be painful, and now he could feel the full strength of the chaotic emotions tearing at her. He could feel the little bit of himself that resonated with the power in her stretching, pulsing, strengthened by the contact, and it sent an unexpected jolt of pleasure through his body. Ginny rubbed her cheek against his chest as one of her hands clutched desperately at the back of his shirt and the other slid up to burrow beneath his hair and press tightly against the back of his neck. Despite the summer heat, her skin felt cold against his.

"It's okay," he repeated. "It's okay."

"It's not!" She moaned and hid her face against him. He could feel the 'flavour' of the Dark power changing, though it was still a wild, untamed thing tasting of blood and fire. But now it felt like it did before, an electric, erotic thrill that was impossible to mistake... or ignore. Her nails clawed at the fabric of his shirt, and her whole body was tense. "It's not," she said again, shuddering hard. "I want... I want... oh god, I don't want to want the things I want!" she wailed. "Not all of them!"

"What don't you want to want?" he asked.

She moaned again. "Oh please... I'm so confused, Harry! I don't know who I am anymore. What I am." She was still shaking, and the Dark hunger still pressed, just as hard, but he'd been right about contact giving her more control. At the very least, she seemed to be having an easier time talking to him, to sound more like herself. "If it were just the sex, I wouldn't even fight it." Okay. Maybe not quite like herself, then. "But it's not! It's all mixed up and I know it's wrong and awful but I want it so bad..."

"What is it?" he asked, softly, hoping that talking about it would help her control it.

She shook her head violently, and the magic swirling through them took on a thick, choking sensation-- shame. It could feed on that as easily as anger or lust, and it was quite willing to take whatever it could get, whatever she'd feed it.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Don't be ashamed. Tell me what it is. If it won't hurt you, I won't deny you."

She smothered a heartfelt groan against his chest, and the shame grew thicker still, tinged with a stinging acidity that it took him only a second to identify as guilt. "It would hurt you!" she said. "I want to... to bite, tear, claw, cut... taste blood, hot, wet... given to me, sacrifice. Willing best, taken almost as good and I can't... can't think! It's never been this bad before!"

Harry swallowed, the darkness within him vibrating almost painfully. "I... I think I could give that to you," he said.

She screamed with frustration and banged her hand against his chest. "NO! No no no! I know you can feel this, that it's... it's connected, somehow. Don't you dare give in just because how I feel is making you feel the same! Don't you dare! Or we're lost, and no one in the world can bring us home again."

He took a deep breath, and nodded. "Right. You're right."

She couldn't stop a little disappointed whimper from escaping her throat, nor could she help looking up at him with big, pleading eyes that seemed flooded with molten gold.

"But I swear to you," he said, "When we can, I will give you what you want."

She shuddered again, and closed her eyes. She took one deep breath, then another, and the magic quieted, settling slowly and reluctantly back down. Not all the way down-- it still simmered with the potential for any of the emotions that had been evoked, and with enough power to be frightening, even though he held only a tiny bit of the whole. But down enough for her tight hold on him to loosen, for her frantically beating heart to slow, for control to return. When she opened her eyes again, they were almost calm, and filled with a gratitude that made the Light magic within him stir with sleepy, basking pleasure.

She lay her cheek back against his chest. "Thank you," she whispered. "I... don't know what I might have done."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "But I meant it. If-- when-- the time comes that it's safe, if you still want to, I'll do everything I can to fulfil your every fantasy."

She shivered, but shook her head. "I don't want you doing something just because I want it. I definitely don't want you doing it because... because what I am wants it. I'd rather you just went ahead and killed me now, thanks."

"Ginny," he said, "I'll do it because I want to fulfil your fantasies. I'm... I'm not ready. Not yet. But when I am... I swear on my magic that I will never judge your fantasies, and I will help you to fulfil any one you desire, if it is safe to do so."

Her eyes widened at the telltale sparkle of magic in the air, and her fist thudded into his chest again. "Damn it, Harry! I don't want you to do it unless you want it. For you. Not for me. Why do you always have to be so b-bloody noble a-and self-sacrificing and sweet and n-nice!"

"Because I'm the Heir of Light?" he asked, grinning, then sobered. "I do want it, Ginny. I may not be ready yet, but when I am... you felt it. You felt the darkness in me respond to the darkness in you."

She shivered again. "Yes," she whispered. "But... you still shouldn't," she said weakly. "It's just not right. You said yourself I could already be going crazy. I don't doubt it even a bit. You shouldn't make promises to me. Not any. That way you're still free to do whatever needs doing."

"That's why I said if it's safe. We just have to get you back in the Chamber so you can finish. Besides, we can't do anything yet. I haven't learned the... oh god. Oh my god," he said, face going dead white. "Oh god."

"Harry? What's wrong!?"

"We can't. Ever," Harry said, panicking. "Your mum told me to ask your dad about the charms, but if we're going out... oh god. Oh god. I can't ask your brothers, either."

"Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Your mum told me to ask your dad about charms to prevent... you know. But if I ask him... I mean, if we're together...."

"I know? Really? You could have fooled me," she said.

"Getting pregnant," he managed, choking out the words.

"Oh, that," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You had me scared to death, Harry. I thought you meant something important. Don't worry about it."

"But he'll know!"

"So don't ask him. Seriously, Harry, don't worry about it."

"But... I don't want to... you know. I mean, if we do... you know, I don't want to... you know," Harry said.

She looked up at him, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Really, Harry. You worry far too much."

"But... but...."

She stared at him with an innocent, inquisitive look for a moment, then spoiled it by giggling. When his expression grew ever more horrified, she burst out laughing for real, leaning against him.

"Ginny!" he cried plaintively. "It's not funny!"

"Oh but it is," she insisted, gasping for air. "Ohhh... the look on your face! I'll have to tell Hermione, it's just too priceless!"

"What?" Harry asked, horrified. "Hermione! No! You can't talk to Hermione about-- about that!"

"But whyever not, Harry?" she asked sweetly. "We've already talked about it more than once, after all."

He stared at her, shocked. "You-- Hermione-- but-- but-- Ron!"

"Oh Harry, don't be silly. Ron had The Speech last year. He already knows the charms."

"Hermione and Ron! You can't talk to her about this! He's your brother!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked. "Really, just because he's my brother doesn't mean she can't shag him if she wants to. Don't be a hypocrite, Harry."

Harry's eyes bulged out. "I-- he-- she-- bad image!"

"Well I very much doubt they're going to expect you to watch, Harry," she said chidingly.

As he gaped at her, she added thoughtfully, "I suppose you could ask, though, if you really wanted to. She might be willing to let you, purely for educational reasons, of course."

A high-pitched, whimpering noise escaped his throat as she cocked her head, observing him with studious interest. Finally, she reached up and pushed his mouth closed with a gentle finger under his chin, and smiled. "It's okay," she said, softly. "See this ring?" She wriggled her left hand, causing the light to sparkle off of the ring on her pinky finger. It was set with a small, light blue crystal. "Hermione got it for me last Christmas. It's got a permanent birth control charm on it."

"W-why?" he managed.

She sighed, sobering instantly, and looked away. "We talk. A lot. A lot more than you and Ron realise, probably. I told her... a bit about what was going on. About what I was feeling. That I was afraid I'd give in and do something rash," she said. "So... for Christmas, she sent me this and a book on a Muggle brain disease called 'Borderline Personality Disorder'. It did kinda fit, actually. Still does, really."

"What is it?" he asked.

"A psycho... um... psychologic illness," she said. "Some of the symptoms are mood swings, moods that are out of place, and not being able to control your impulses. Along with in irrational distrust of other people. At the time, I thought... well, it all seemed to fit. I was having these weird desires, and I was really afraid I was going to give in, and I was scared to trust anybody, and suddenly I just couldn't make myself trust people I'd always trusted... it made sense."

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" She frowned up at him. "You didn't do anything."

"So?" he asked. "You still shouldn't have had to go through that."

"Well." Her face darkened and she narrowed her eyes. "There's a hell of a lot you shouldn't have had to go through, either!" She looked back up at him, meeting his eyes. "So what are we going to do about him? How are we going to kill him?" She asked the question calmly, without the tiniest flicker of hesitation or regret.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I wish we didn't have to, but I don't think there's any other way. And I don't know how we could manage it."

"We can. He won't be expecting it," she said, then frowned. "I hope. I shouldn't have let him see that I was angry today, but I didn't know there was any reason not to. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry sighed. "I didn't do too well either," he said. "But I don't think he's suspicious."

"Maybe," she said. "I don't know. We'll see. But I was going to... do something if he tried to take you away. I don't know what. I didn't know, even then. Just... something. And I think he felt that. And if you can feel the magic in me, why couldn't he?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he could, or maybe it's because I've got dark magic," Harry said.

"We need to know," she said. "But at least we have some time." She bit her lip, then looked up at him anxiously. "Do... do you know how much time I have? Until it's... too late?"

Harry shook his head. "No. But... um. Surely you have a while?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I... what I felt just now... it was really strong. If you hadn't been here..." She shivered, and hid her face against his chest again.

"Would it have been that bad if it wasn't me?"

"Worse," she said. "I'm not sure anyone else could have turned it into something other than rage, could have made me want something other than violence. As much as I don't want to... to be with anyone else... I don't want to kill them, instead, just for being there when I crack."

Harry didn't say anything for a bit. "Then we've got to get you back to the Chamber. But I don't know how."

"Can't we just go?" she asked. "When we get back to the school? If he has no reason to think we know... I mean, think of it-- last year, would you have even dreamed of going back there? I certainly wouldn't have! He doesn't stay in the castle all the time. He goes to meet with the Ministry sometimes, and things like that. So we just have to wait until he's out of the way, and then do it. How long could it take, anyway?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "Do you think you have that long?"

She sighed. "I wish I knew," she said, then looked up at him shyly. "But... I feel better now. Like this." Her cheeks turned pink. "Touching you. It helps."

Harry blushed. "I, um, like it. We can do it as much as you need."

She smiled. "Maybe. There's still family to consider, and it would be even harder at school to find time and privacy. But what we can manage may be enough. We'll have to see."

"Yeah," Harry said. "And, um, if you want to do this in front of your brothers, we can."

She stretched up, kissing the side of his jaw. "Thank you," she whispered. "I know that would be rough on you. My brothers can be... difficult. We'll see if I need it, and if I do... I'll handle my brothers, I promise."

"I'll stand up to them, if I need to." He smirked. "The twins can't give me too much trouble, anyway."

"Wanna bet?" she asked, smiling. "Oh, they'll be a touch conflicted, but don't think that because they're indebted to you they won't be insufferable asses if they think they need to be. If they decided they needed to 'protect' me, they'd throw it all back in your face just so they could pound you with a clean conscience. But I'm not going to let them. Trust me?"

Harry blinked. "How did you know about that?"

She just laughed. "I know everything," she said, smugly. "Now I do, anyway."

"How?" he asked.

"Really, Harry. It was obvious," she said. "I bet Hermione knows, too. You certainly weren't going to keep the money. And those two have been happy and full of plans all summer."

"Does your mother know?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Ginny said. "If we're happy, she doesn't pry that deeply. If they were upset about something... she'd know about it within the day."

Harry sighed. "I just realised... the ring doesn't help."

"Of course it does," she said. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Because your mother doesn't know about it, does she?"

"She doesn't need to know about anything else, either," she said, primly.

"If she asks your dad if I've asked about the charms, and he says no?" Harry asked. "She'll think that I don't care if I get you... you know."

"No she won't. She'll assume that you asked one of the boys. Or a teacher at school."

"Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly. "I don't want her to think I don't care...."

"Harry. She knows you're not an idiot," she said, then sighed. "Besides, while she'd rant and rave and carry on, deep down she'd probably like it if you knocked me up. I'd be safely 'settled' then."

Harry stared at her, stunned into silence.

"It can't be that much of a surprise, can it really?" she asked him. "Surely you realise if she didn't approve of you, you'd know it."

"I-- but--" Harry broke off, unable to make any kind of sense out of the thoughts whirling in his head.

She smiled at him, but her eyes were a bit sad as she reached up and cupped his cheek. "You really don't understand mothers, do you?" she asked softly. "My poor darling... damn that man!"

She really shouldn't have been able to read him so well. He hadn't thought anything had given him away, but she must have caught something-- the slight tightening of his jaw, a flash of something in his eyes-- because she wriggled around and slid both hands around his neck, her own eyes full of tender promise. "You are now, aren't you?" she asked. "My very own most darling man? Unless I misunderstood?"

"No one's ever called me that before," he said, very quietly.

"I know," she replied, just as softly. "I intend to repeat it as frequently as it takes for you to believe I mean it."

"Do you?" he asked, looking down at her, afraid to believe it.

"I'll never lie to you, Harry. Not even 'for your own good'. Not even a little bit. Not because anyone tells me it's the right thing to do, or because you might 'do something stupid', or because I'm afraid. I trust you. I won't hide anything from you." Her gaze never wavered as it met his. "You never have to doubt what I tell you. Never."

"Thank you," he whispered.

She stood up, pressing close between his knees, then drew his head down to her chest, cradling him against her. She lay her cheek against his head and stroked his hair. "And I'm not going to let you be used anymore, hurt anymore. Not by him. Not by anyone," she whispered. "I don't know how yet, but it's going to stop. And they're going to regret it. I promise."

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, holding on tightly. "I'm so tired," he said. "I have to be this, this persona for everyone else, and it's not me. I'm not some superman. If I was, Cedric wouldn't be dead!"

"If they hadn't all been using you, he wouldn't be dead, either," she said. "If they'd told you the truth. Told anyone the truth. If you hadn't trusted him..." She shuddered, then took a deep breath before going on. "But if it hadn't been for you, then You Kn-- Voldemort would have killed a lot more people by now. You weakened him. And you've helped people. Not because you're a hero, but because you're you. And you did everything you have with that bastard lying to you and trying to keep you weak and... trying to kill you."

"I don't know if I can do it," he said. "I almost blew it this morning. I'm not sure I didn't."

"You didn't," she said, firmly. "I may have, but then, he doesn't have to know that you know about me, then, does he? If he does suspect anything, then we'll just play his game and use what he thinks he knows against him. I'm good at things like that, Harry. At... making people think what I want them to. I--" She broke off, sounding embarrassed, and nuzzled against his hair.

"What?" he asked.

"Um. Well..." She drew back, so that only her knees touched his, even letting her fingers trail over and drop from his shoulders. "I... shouldn't have been in Gryffindor. I kind of... tricked the hat into putting me in there." She stared at the ground, scuffing her foot against the moss that grew against the fallen tree. "It wasn't where it thought I belonged."

Harry giggled. "You too?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and surprised. "What do you mean?"

"The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he said. "But I'd just met Malfoy, and I did not want to go there."

She stared at him. "Really? I mean... you? Really?"

Harry nodded. "It told me I could be great there."

"It told me that my talents would be... unappreciated anywhere else," she admitted, in a tiny, shy little voice. "But... Mum would have died. And none of the boys would have ever spoken to me again."

"We have to fix that," Harry said. "Somehow. I don't know how, though."

"He's been slandering them and encouraging people to think of them as pure evil for 900 years," she said, with a sigh. "And so the only people who wanted to be in Slytherin were pretty much bad, making it self-fulfilling. Maybe once his lies come to light, it'll get better on its own, but I think it will take a while, no matter what." She smiled tentatively. "But... you really don't mind?"

"Why would I mind?" Harry asked.

"I... just... I don't know," she said. "I mean, it's not a very nice skill, now is it? And, well, I'm probably not a very nice person, either. Not honourable and loyal like you and your friends. Not forgiving and sweet like Mum. It's not even that I haven't tried, it's just that I can't see paying the price to be like that. Too many times, the wrong thing to do is the only thing that will work."

"You are a nice person," Harry said.

"No I'm not. I'm far too practical to be nice," she said. "And I'm far too vengeful, too. Maybe that's why he-- Slytherin, I mean-- thought I was a good candidate. I was already Dark."

Harry thought about that for a moment. "I don't think that makes you not nice. It just makes you... different."

She thought for a moment, then smiled at him. "I think that depends on who's doing the judging. You're not like everyone else. You understand more. You've... lived more."

Harry nodded. "I understand. They don't. They try, but... they don't. Moody might, I don't know. I mean, look at him. He almost has to, with what he's been through, doesn't he?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. I... thought about becoming an Auror," she said. "It seemed to... um... suit my personality. But with them being controlled by the Ministry, that just didn't seem to be a good idea. If I could make my own decisions about who needs to be stopped, or what's really evil, that would have been different, but as is, I was afraid that I'd have to do things I couldn't live with, and if I didn't do them, I'd end up in Azkaban, too. But that's as close as I've come to someone else who I thought might be able to really understand."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I don't think I could work for them, either."

"You're not going to ever have to work for anyone, Harry," she said. "Not if we win. And if we don't... well, I doubt either of us will live long enough to look for work."

Harry chuckled, then looked thoughtful. "You know, the same thing applies to you."

She shrugged, looking away uncomfortably. "Maybe. If I don't go insane, instead. And, if it comes right down to it, the world will need you, in particular, in your place far more than it needs me in mine."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "It needs both of us."

She put her hands on her hips and looked down at him. "No. It needs both a Dark Lord and a Light one. But the Light side is so... overbalanced right now, that if someone else like him took that place instead of you, things might never be worked out again. You can fix it. You're not... prejudiced. I'm not sure why... since you'd have every right to be. But you do believe. Anyone else wouldn't. You're needed. I'm replaceable. Especially if you can help pick the replacement."

"Ginevra Weasley!" Harry said, angrily. "You are not replaceable! Understand?"

She glared at him. "I won't lie to you. I expect the same courtesy," she said. "And I'm not going to let you lie to yourself, either!"

"I'm not!" he said.

"You know that's not true," she said gently.

"Yes, it is," he said.

She brushed a piece of hair away from his face, her fingers just the lightest feathery touch against his skin. "Alright, then," she said softly. "Perhaps not in every way. But to the world, as the Dark Heir, I am. And to the world, that's far more important than anything else I might be."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think you are, even as the Dark Lord," he said. "Dark doesn't mean evil, but it doesn't mean good, either. We don't know if the next Dark Lord would be good or not. What if it was someone like Malfoy?"

"Then you'd have an easy time killing him and replacing him with someone suitable," she said. "Your position is going to be the one with the most power, Harry. Just as it is now. One day, maybe they'll be in balance again, but it will take work. Your work. Without you as the Light Lord, they'll just kill any Dark Lords who show up."

"I'd rather work with someone I can trust," he said.

"I know," she said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you must be the one doing the working, either way. You may prefer it be with me. But it doesn't have to be."

"You're still irreplaceable," Harry said.

She bent and kissed him, quickly and carefully, just brushing her lips across his and moving away. "Perhaps to you. I'm selfish enough to want to be," she said. "But logically... different isn't necessarily worse, and it's only fair of me to point out that, once everything is out in the open, there'll be others you can trust. You won't be so alone forever."

"Maybe," Harry said, not really believing her.

"No maybes," she said firmly. "Once you've won, you don't have to hide. You can have whatever you want. Be whoever you want."

"I want to be me," he said. "I want you."

She sucked in her breath sharply and shivered, then sat down abruptly in his lap. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held on tightly. "And I want you. So very, very much. You really couldn't imagine how much." She buried her face against his chest. "But I'm trying really hard to be like you. To think of what's right. What's important for everyone, not just what's so important, so amazing to me that it makes me dizzy and giddy and sick and absolutely mad with the thought of it. I want you. And so I know I have to deserve you. I cannot be just another silly girl. I have to earn this."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "You don't. Love should never have to be earned. Actually, I think that maybe real love can't be earned. What did I do to earn my mother's love?" he asked. "You have me, Ginevra Weasley. You don't have to do anything to be worthy of me, because you already are."

She trembled against him, not answering, and after a moment he could feel hot tears wetting the front of his shirt.

"You are," Harry said. "Look at me."

She shook her head, her arms tightening around him. "F-for me," she whispered. "I have to be g-good enough for me to think I deserve it. Because of... of what I want for you. It's important to me." She shuddered again. "I can't... can't be with you if I'm not going to be the best I can."

"Look at me. Look at me, Ginevra Weasley."

"No! Because you can talk me into anything when I look at you! And this is really important to me, Harry. You have to understand that."

"I do," he said. "But I want you to look at me anyway."

Hesitantly, her whole body still tense, she peeked up at him. "I don't think you do," she said. "I'm not sure you can."

"Give me one good reason you aren't good enough for me," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "I knew you didn't understand," she muttered, then sat up straight on his lap, her chin tilted up as she looked at him. "I never said I wasn't good enough for you, Harry."

"Yes, you did," he said.

"No. I said I have to be good enough," she said. "I didn't say I have to become good enough." Her lips curled in a slight smile. "Right now, I'm arrogant enough to not only think I'm good enough, but that I'm the only one I know who is. No one else understands how important it is not to lie to you, no matter what. But at the same time, if I want you, then there are expectations that I have to meet, because if I don't, then I'll fail you. I won't be what you need me to be. I can meet them. It's going to be hard, sometimes, but I'm not afraid of that."

"You said you had to earn it. That implies that you don't deserve it now."

She tilted her head, looking thoughtful, then nodded. "You're right. I shouldn't have said it that way. What I meant was that if I don't live up to the standards I've set, then I won't feel like I still deserve it. And if I let what I want get so much in the way of what's right, then I won't deserve it, even if you give it to me anyway. I'd be failing you, and it would feel like I was betraying you, and I never want to do that." She sighed, lowering her eyes. "And perhaps, just a touch, there's a part of me that does find it hard to believe you could want me. You didn't before, after all, and I guess I felt like if I'd just been better, you would have."

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't you. It was me, being blind." He made a face. "Maybe if I hadn't been so blinded by Cho, I'd have managed to ask you to the ball before Neville."

She wrinkled her nose. "That would have been a disaster," she said. "You... weren't ready to see me. And I wasn't ready to let you, not really. So it would still have been you settling or being nice, and me... being a silly girl."

"You might be right," he agreed.

She grinned at him. "Of course I'm right," she said. "I always am. I don't know how you could have thought I had an infuriority complex."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Infuriority complex? That sounds like you."

"No it doesn't," she said. "I read all about it in my book. I don't think that everyone is better than me, thanks. Most people are really far too easy to figure out."

"You didn't say inferiority complex."

She frowned, wrinkling her brow, and silently mouthed the two words, trying to remember what the Muggle book had actually said. Then her eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter! Are you saying I have a bad temper?!"

He just smirked at her.

She smacked him on the chest again. "I'll have you know I have a perfectly wonderful temper! I'm a veritable saint of pacifism! If I wasn't, I'd spend all my time doing horrible things to all of the people who constantly make me mad!"

He snickered.

Her back stiffened to a steel-like rigidity, and she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her nose in the air, pointedly looking away from him. "Hmf!"

He almost believed her, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. "I wonder what your brothers would say, if I asked them."

"They'd agree with me, if they knew what was good for them," she assured him.

"I see," he said gravely. "I believe, Miss Weasley, that you have made my point for me."

She turned back to face him, a sly smile on her face, then wriggled very deliberately on his lap. "No, I don't think so," she said. "I'm sure I would have noticed that. I certainly hope it would be noticeable, anyway."

Harry blushed, but he was determined not to let her get the upper hand. "And what would you do if you had?" he asked.

She tilted her chin and peeked up at him through her lashes. "I don't know... what would you have liked me to do?" Her tone was teasing, but her cheeks were almost as pink as his.

Harry swallowed. "Um." His cheeks burned. "I... don'treallyknowwhatyoucoulddo."

"All sorts of things." She curled up against his chest again. "Any number of things," she said, her face safely hidden by the angle and her hair.

"I'm... glad you know," he said, swallowing.

"You really don't?" she asked quietly.

Harry shook his head, glad she wasn't looking at him.

"But... why not?" Ginny sounded honestly puzzled, not teasing any longer.

"Where would I have learned?" he asked.

"Where do you think I learned?"

Harry paused. "Honestly, I have no idea."

She pulled back and looked up at him, frowning. "It's not from experience, you know."

"I believe you," he said, then paused. "I... wouldn't think less of you if it was, though. You, um... have the right to do what you want."

"Well it's not," she said, firmly. "And I haven't wanted to. Not with anyone else, anyway. Not really. I mean, there's these strange... moments. Just impulses. But that's not the same as want. I learned it the same place everyone does, Harry. I thought, anyway. Maybe I was wrong... but don't boys talk?"

Harry thought for a moment. "They might," he said. "But think of what things have been like. First year, they probably didn't know any more than I do. Second year everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. Third year was just... screwed up. And last year, everyone hated me for sneaking my name into the Goblet."

She stared at him for a moment, and her eyes filled with remorse, then she threw her arms back around him. "I'm sorry! I should have thought... boys are so shy, so much more fragile. Of course they don't start as early! And the past couple of years have been so awful for you... I'm so sorry. That was totally idiotic of me."

Harry remained silent, not knowing what to say.

She hugged him tightly. "I won't tease you like that anymore. And if there's anything you want to know you know you can just... you know, ask, right? And if you don't want to ask me, then ask Fred and George. According to several good sources, they know all about it."

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know, but.... "Sources?"

She bit her lip as she looked up at him. "I'll tell you if you really want to know. But... friends don't name names. Only nasty, vicious little gossips go around doing that."

"You're right," Harry said. "Never mind."

She smiled, relieved. "But the important thing is that I've heard it from enough different sources to know it wasn't just someone's lovesick imaginings. Apparently they really do know what they're doing, especially if they're trying to outdo each other. So they'd be a great source of advice for a guy."

"Wait," he said, part of his mind trying to work something out. "Outdo each other?"

She did blush, then. Her face turned nearly as red as her hair. "Um. I think maybe it'd be best if you kinda forgot I said that."

"Why?"

"Cause I didn't mean to. I know guys don't mind being bragged about," Ginny said, "But I didn't mean to actually gossip. Not, you know, details. Not about my brothers."

"Um. Just... indulge my curiosity this once?" he asked.

"Um, haven't I already said enough?" she asked hesitantly. "I mean, think about it, Harry. They're twins. They usually do everything together."

"Do--" Harry's eyes widened. "Oh my god! I think you were right."

"Oh come on," she said. "You can't be that shocked. I mean, seriously. Are you really going to tell me you haven't had a fantasy or two about Padma and Parvati? Why shouldn't girls want to try the same thing?"

Harry turned bright red. As it happened, he hadn't thought of that, but now he couldn't get the images out of his head.

She giggled. "That's so adorable. You really hadn't thought about it! Do you have any idea how rare that makes you? How grand? Every boy in the school had the fantasy except for you, and you're the only one who could have had the reality, if you'd actually wanted it. And you never even thought about it."

"What do you mean I could have had the reality?" he asked.

"Oh come on. You had to know you could have," she said skeptically. "Before the ball? They both wanted you. They even joked about it, saying that if no one girl was enough to win you, then maybe two would be." She peered into his face, frowning. "You really didn't know?"

Harry shook his head, wide-eyed.

Her frown deepened. "That's... huh." She fell silent, nibbling her lower lip and staring off to the side, frowning intently.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"I just... wonder how much else you might have missed."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she said, "we all thought you played the game so well. But it turns out you didn't even know it was going on. So... how many other opportunities did you just not notice because you didn't know what the signals were? I'm sure people would have been more straightforward if they'd known you didn't understand."

Harry swallowed. "Thank god they didn't."

"Why? Wouldn't you have wanted it if you'd known you could have it?"

"Ginny, I can barely manage to talk to you about this. If it'd been anyone else...."

"You would have got over it quickly," she said. "Most guys do when they realise they're attractive. Experience is what gives confidence, and you could have had plenty of that last year. Except for some of the Slytherins, you could have had any girl you were interested in, if you'd asked her fast enough." She clenched her jaw, but turned her head up to meet his eyes. "You still could, and now there's no time limit. You might think you don't have a chance anymore, or that you blew your chance, but you could have her if you asked. Or any of the others. Some of them might have things they wouldn't compromise on, like the twins would insist you married them, but more of them would take you on your own terms. I thought you knew this. We all did."

"Are you serious?" he said, looking at her in disbelief.

"Deathly so," she whispered.

"I can have any girl in Hogwarts, just by asking?"

She gritted her teeth and gave him her best "Don't make me repeat myself!" look.

"Yes," she said. "Pretty much."

"Does that include you?" he asked. "Can I have you?"

"You know you can," she said, hoarsely, then looked away, compressing her lips into a firm, stubborn line. "But that's not really likely to change. I'll wait. As long as you don't actually marry someone I really care about, you can still have me later on. I won't help you hurt one of my real friends, but if you haven't made a permanent commitment, all bets are off."

"I want you," he said, simply.

"And you can have me," she said. "You can have me now. And you can have me after. I'd say you could even have me in between, but I honestly don't think I'm mature enough to handle that. Not with so many people knowing how I felt and feeling sorry for me."

"After what?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"After you're done getting the experience you didn't realise you could have had! What do you think I've been talking about?" she demanded, pushing against his chest as she started to crawl out of his lap.

"Did I say I wanted it?" he asked. "I want you."

She pulled away from him and started pacing irritably within the confines of the willow's foliage. "You didn't know it was there," she said. "You couldn't have made the choice, because you didn't realise there was one."

"Yes, I did," he said. "You just told me, and I said I wanted you."

"Yes. But I'm here and available and you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings. Besides, I'm dangerously unstable."

Harry snorted. "You aren't listening. I. Want. You. Not Hermione, not Parvati or Padma or both, you."

She looked at him worriedly, obviously torn. "But how would you know?"

"They don't understand."

Her face softened, but she still shook her head. "I didn't mean I'd give you up forever," she said. "Or that I'd be happy to see you, you know, serious with anyone else. But I've waited this long, and surely if anyone ever deserved to reap the benefits of his actions then it's you. I can wait a while longer and let you have some... some freedom, first. Wild oats, youthful indiscretion, and all of that. Just bloody well learn that charm, that's all I ask."

Harry stared at her. "What?"

She balled her fists at her sides and closed her eyes, an obvious plea to any listening gods to grant her patience. "I'm telling you that your previous decision was hasty. I want you. I'll wait for you. But it'd be unfair of me to not let you go for a while, given what you didn't know. I don't want you to resent me later for tying you down when you could have been merrily making your way through Hogwarts and putting so many notches on your bedpost the canopy would fall on you! So just... just go play for a while! Have the twins if they'll go for it without marriage! Have Cho. Have a bloody orgy in the fifth year girls dorm! And when you're done, and you've got it all out of your system, I'll still be here waiting for you if you still want me."

"You... are you crazy? Why would I do that to you?"

"Because I'm telling you it's okay!" She whirled and banged her fist against the tree trunk with a little shriek, then leaned against it. "Because it wouldn't be fair if I didn't let you. Because I'd always worry that you'd end up obsessed with what you'd missed. And maybe I'd always wonder if you would have come back to me if you'd really, deep down, known you had so many choices."

"No," he said. "I won't do it."

"Why the hell not?!" She whirled back around to glare at him, hands on her hips. "I'm giving you what every boy dreams of! Why are you being so DIFFICULT!"

"Be... cause I don't want to hurt you?" he asked.

"I'd rather hurt a bit now than... than later on, when I'm even more attached to you," she said.

"Why do you think you'll hurt later?" he asked.

"You haven't been listening to me if you don't already know the answer to that," she said.

"You really think I'll decide you aren't enough for me?" Harry asked.

"No," she said, softly. "But I know that you could. Or that, even if you're happy, you might still wonder what it would have been like. I don't want you to have any reason to feel trapped."

"But... why would you want me to hurt the other girls?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said I didn't want you to get serious with anyone. If it happened, I... I guess I'd just... wait and see, and try to remember that I want you to be happy more than anything else. But you don't have to get serious to get shagged, Harry. Not with most of them. Just be honest. Say you want to play around and have some fun and you're not ready to settle down." Her tone was deliberately casual, but his eyes were drawn to her clenched fists, with their bloodlessly white knuckles; he'd have bet his broom she'd already broken the skin with her nails.

Girls were confusing, Harry thought. He wondered if they had it trademarked or patented or something. "But I am."

"No you're not," she said, shaking her head. "You're not like Percy."

He stared down at her, shocked. "Do you think I just want to... to... and then leave you?" he asked, outraged.

"No! No that's not what I meant at all! Oh!" She sank to her knees on the mossy ground and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know how we even got here! I'm so terribly confused now... I can't understand how you can turn it down, but I can't understand how I talked myself into the position of trying to make you do it, either, and why you turning it down suddenly seems bad when you're only offering me everything I ever wanted!"

"Then how am I supposed to know what to do?" Harry shouted. "I'm trying to do the right thing!"

"I am too!" she shouted back. "Whether it's what I want or not, I want to do what's right! And I know that I don't really know what's right or wrong anymore! If you knew half the things I've craved this past year, the things I've been tempted by, you'd never look to me to tell you what's right. But in this case, I'm just telling you to do what you want! That I'll be okay if you do!" Her shoulders sagged, the anger leaving her, and her hair hung down around her face. "That's all. Just... don't worry about me. I'll be fine. So many things have been stolen from you... I don't want this to be one of them."

"You'll be okay if I do what I want?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes," she said tiredly, not raising her head. "I promise. Do whatever you want."

"I've already told you what I want."

She looked up at him, and for an instant, the relief was plain on her face, but it was quickly replaced by guilt and uncertainty. "Can you tell me how you can be so sure?" she asked softly.

Harry hesitated, trying to put his feelings into words. Finally, he settled on, "They don't understand. You do."

"But you haven't talked to them, have you now? And... except for that one thing... I've had a happy life, Harry. A family better than any other. No troubles with school. Plenty of friends. I've never even lost anyone I cared about," she said. "So... maybe there are others who would understand just as much, even if they approached it from a different direction. You don't know. Because you don't know what's out there, because you thought you couldn't have it so you didn't try. So... so I don't think it would be ethical of me to accept any commitments from you. No matter how much I want it. No matter how much I... I need you. If I really care about you, then I'll want what's best for you, no matter what that means for me."

He shook his head. "If they haven't seen him, faced him, they can't understand."

"Some of them have, Harry," she whispered. "Some are scared to death their family will make them face him again. Make them take the Mark. There... there are things that some of the pureblooded families do that are so shameful... Horrible things I don't want to even imagine."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think all of the younger Death Eaters were willing, Harry? Really?" she asked. "Do you think they turn out the way they did because they have loving families who carefully nurture their independent thought?"

He hesitated. "I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted.

"I have," she said. "I've thought about it a lot. And I think that most of them just start out scared." She met his eyes. "And a lot of them would probably do damned near anything for a chance to get out. To be safe."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Pansy Parkinson would wear a collar and freely declare herself your bitch," she said, bluntly. "She thinks if she sucks up enough, Draco will protect her, but he can't even protect himself. And I think maybe she's starting to realise that. Daphne is looking more and more desperate, too. And Sherril graduates next year. She'd do anything you asked if she just had someone to protect her from her parents if she tried to not go back to them. Hell, even some of the boys would probably be willing to flip the blanket for your protection."

Harry shuddered. "Ewww. No thanks."

"Eh, everyone has different tastes. But even if you don't want to try boys before you settle down with a girl, how many teenage boys would pass up the chance to have a girl who'd be literally willing to let him lead her around on a chain? To do whatever he asked?"

"Why would I want to have her on a chain?" Harry asked.

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes with an expression of great pain. "Perhaps you'd prefer a rope? Or a leather lead? Or maybe just scandalously short robes and the words "Harry's Little Cockslut" tattooed across her arse? What I'm getting at is it doesn't matter. Nothing you could do to her would be worse than what she knows is coming, so however kinky the fantasy, you'd just have to name it."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. "Why would I want any of that?"

She groaned. "Harry. A lot of guys would. It's not that uncommon a fantasy. Or a reality, though most people keep those games private. You know, a little Stern Headmaster and Naughty Student? Ancient Warrior Wizard and Captured Slave Girl? Evil Sorcerer and Helpless Muggle Slut? Surely you've heard of this! You... you offered to bleed for me," she finished in a whisper.

Harry shook his head dumbly. "What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you ever heard of sadomasochism? You know, whips and chains? Over the knee spankings? Playing with wands and cauldrons in the dungeon?"

Harry threw his hands up. "No! See? Even if I wanted to--" He broke off, and gave her an evil grin. "Fine," he said, suddenly calm. "You want me to sow my wild oats, I will. But you'll have to be there to help, because I obviously have no clue how to."

She stared at him for a minute, then a giggle escaped her. Then another. And another, and finally she fell over on her side, laughing.

"What?" he said, bewildered and more than a little chagrined. He'd thought he'd had her. She was supposed to be exasperated, and give up on the idea. Maybe even be angry. He hadn't expected laughter.

She laughed even harder, rolling around on the ground holding her stomach, completely helpless.

"What? Why are you laughing? It's not that funny!" he said.

She took a deep shuddering breath, finally suppressing her laughter, though the giggles still kept trying to escape. She'd ended up rolling closer to him, and ended up laying on her back at his feet, looking up at him with glowing honey-gold eyes, her vivid red hair spread out beneath her... and, he couldn't help but notice, the top two button of her robe had come loose, too. She gave him an adoring smile. "Oh, Harry! You don't need me, love. Just tell anybody that you don't know how to go about it, and they'd be queued up around the school just to give you suggestions." She giggled again. "I know some would have sheets and sheets of them. You'd have to hold a drawing."

"In that case, I need you as a bodyguard," he said. "So either way, it's not happening without you."

"It couldn't happen with me, love. Not with anyone but the bitches," she said. "It's too widely known how I feel. Besides, part of your appeal is your ability to protect yourself."

He shrugged. "Well, this is your idea," he said. "I think that makes it your responsibility to make it work. I'm meeting you halfway, after all, and agreeing to consider it."

She looked at him for a long moment, her face gradually losing all expression, giving no clue as to her mood. Finally, a tiny smile played along her lips, and she half closed her eyes, peeking up at him through red gold lashes. "Why don't you come down here, Harry?" she said coaxingly.

"Okay," he said, sliding off the log and kneeling on the ground beside her.

"Closer," she whispered.

Harry moved closer, until his knees were nearly touching her side. "This better?"

"Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "All the way. Please?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Lay here with me, Harry," she purred. "That's all."

Harry looked at her, nervous, but slid down until he was laying beside her. "Okay."

She smiled at him, then reached up almost lazily and hooked her hand around his neck, drawing his face down towards her.

Harry swallowed nervously, but didn't stop her. She plucked the glasses from his face with one hand, deftly folding them and setting them gently an arm's reach away, then pulled him closer, until only a couple of inches separated their lips, and he could see the individual gold flecks that brightened her light brown eyes into something spectacular. "Alright," she whispered. "I've made my decision."

"You have?" he said.

"Mmhmm," she murmured, and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. It was probably a disturbing smile, so perhaps it was best he was too close to see it.

He swallowed. "And?"

"I just want you to do one thing."

"W-what?"

"Try." She breathed the word against his lips.

"Try what?" he asked blankly.

"Look around. Ask them out. See what they'd be willing to do," she said, moving to brush her lips along the side of his neck. "See what's... available. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But..." She paused to lick at the skin just beneath his ear. "If you do want to, you can. No guilt. Free and clear, because I won't accept any commitment... yet. Pick at least three you think you could like, and see what they have to offer, and then... we'll talk again, if you still want to."

"But I don't want them. I want you. This is all your idea, not mine," he said.

"But you said yourself you don't even know what's out there," she said, then nipped at his earlobe gently. "And I want something for me, too. First. Selfish, but I find I can't resist. I want to be first. I want to hold you, touch you, love you before anyone else does." She pressed her parted lips over the pulse of his throat, sucking lightly and flicking the tip of her tongue over his skin. "Not necessarily now, because you said you aren't ready. But first. We have the whole rest of the summer. We can do anything you want. Be anything you want to each other. Your choice."

"No," he said. "It's not. You won't let me choose what I really want."

She moaned against his skin. "Is it so important to you, to make promises now?" she whispered. "Anyone else would call that crazy. If you'd wanted me for as long as I've wanted you, perhaps, but as it is? They'd say I took advantage of you, you realise? That I trapped you?"

"Fuck them," Harry said. "They don't understand." He pulled back a bit, looking at her. "I can't do it the way you want. I can't have you and give you up. If you really want me to do this, you'll have to be there with me, by my side, where I want you."

She lay back, closing her eyes. "I can't. I can risk losing you, if it means you'll be happier. I can let you go, if it's what you want. But I can't watch. And I can't do any of it if I truly accept you as mine. Maybe... maybe before The Chamber, I could have. But not this past year. Not this summer, definitely. My baser qualities have been intensified too far. It hurts so just to ask for what I have." She opened her eyes and stared up at him. "If only I could be sure it would be what was best for you. That you truly understand what I'm saying and it's still what you want. If I could just see into the future, or into... your... thoughts...." Her voice trailed off slowly, and she froze for a moment, not even breathing, her entire attention focused on one nearly forgotten idea.

"That spell," he said. "Would it do what you want?"

She licked her lips, then nodded slowly, her eyes wide.

"Then let's do it." He smiled. "You'll have to explain in detail how it works, so that I can do it wandlessly."

"I... was a bit crazy when I proposed it before," she said. "If I'd been thinking, I don't know that I would have dared suggest it. It's... big. A big deal. Um. It's illegal, I told you that, right?"

Harry laughed. "It may be, but I won't be doing it. I'll be doing the same thing wandlessly, so that it can't be tracked. So technically speaking, we won't be breaking the law."

"The spell is illegal, with or without the wands. I don't think it even needs a wand, there was nothing about motions or anything. At least when two people do it together. There were directions for using a wand to force it on someone else," she said. "But the way I meant it, it's... it's old magic. Oath magic." She licked her lips again and finished in a whisper, "Blood magic."

"Oh," he said. "So it's wandless magic to begin with. Well, that makes things easier."

"Harry... it's blood magic," she said. "That... even if we're both willing, that's automatic imprisonment. And... it can't be undone. It will always be there, no matter what. If we're near each other, you can't guard your thoughts from me. If I want to see them, I will."

"And the same goes for you?" he said. "And not all blood magic is forbidden. It's what my mother used to protect me."

"Yes. But if something happens, if I go like... like Tom Riddle did, I wouldn't mind so much you using that to... attend to me. But in that same circumstance, it would be a horrible handicap for you, for me to be able to know what you planned at any time. And there's a different between magic of blood, and magic made by spilling blood. At least to the Ministry there is."

Harry smiled. "Could they ever prove it?" he asked.

"I... I don't know," she said. "I've never done it, of course! I don't know what symptoms it might have! And there's always Veritaserum."

"They'd have to suspect," Harry said. "And there has to be a way around Veritaserum, or Malfoy would have been in Azkaban for the last fifteen years."

"Well, there are rules about when and how they can use it," she said. "But everybody knows that they're really just there so they can twist them around to protect the people they want to." She bit her lip, looking up at him anxiously. "But all of that aside, I don't know if you understand how intimate it would be. How serious. My parents wouldn't do it with each other, I don't think. It would be too much."

Harry paused as a thought struck him. "You'd know and feel what I do, right?" he said.

She nodded somberly.

"Wouldn't it help you, then?" he asked. "Give you more control?"

"Yes, it very well could, but if it did it would give you less and I don't think you're listening to me!"

"I am," he said. "I'm trying to take everything into account." He frowned. "What if we do it, and you decide you still want me to... you know... with other girls?"

"Then I'd know exactly how you felt about the idea," she said. "And I'd know if you changed your mind about it, even if I didn't decide I wanted it. If you started regretting not taking the chance, I'd know it. If you got tired of me, or I wasn't enough, I'd feel it."

"So far, it seems riskier for you than me."

"That's not the point. It could get either of us killed, so once you consider that, what else it could do doesn't really matter, now does it?" She sighed. "The point is that it's an incredibly... invasive act. A level of intimacy that even people who've been sworn to each other for decades would likely shy away from it. When I mentioned it, I... wasn't myself. I was only thinking about how very much I wanted you, how badly I wanted you to know, and how utterly delicious it would be to work blood magic with you."

Harry thought for a moment. "If I ask you something, will you tell me?" he said.

"Yes," she said immediately. "You know that I will if I can at all."

"I swore that I'd help you fulfil your fantasies. What are they?"

She groaned, closing her eyes. "Do you mean my real fantasies, or those of the delusional ones I wouldn't really mind at all trying out, or all of them, including the things that make me physically ill once the compulsion releases me?"

"The... ones we'll actually do," he said.

"Then my real ones, I suppose," she said. "They're not much different from any girl's, really. Just imagining what it would be like to be with you in different ways. In different places." She blushed. "Perhaps seeing what could be done on broomsticks."

"What about the others?" he asked, trying to ignore the fire in his cheeks. "The ones you said you wouldn't mind trying out?"

Her blush darkened considerably. "Oh god," she whispered. "I don't know what to say. No... I know the answer, but I'm... scared of giving it to you." She swallowed hard. "I... have an idea. You can do wandless magic. You could to the wanded version of the spell, the one that doesn't have to be mutual, that way. And then... you could just see. And if there's something in there that you can't live with, then you'll know, and we won't need to do the other." Her eyes never left his face while she spoke.

"No," he said gently. "You can tell me. You know I won't reject you."

"Please don't make me," she whispered. "I will if you ask it. But... I'd rather the spell. That way I don't have to say the words."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," he said. "Tell me everything you know about it."