Just managed to slip this in before Christmas, although I do actually cover the holiday in a couple of chapter’s time, so my timing is a bit off. Mind you, we could have ended up with chapter 12 being published now, which isn’t festive in the least, trust me! As it is, I’m pretty sure everyone will be going ‘aw, poor Neville!’ at the end of this. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to him later.
Mega thanks to Arnel for turning this around in one night, despite the fact I’m sure she has about a million better things to do at this time of year then ferreting out my cock-ups.
If you’re reading this before Xmas, I hope you all have a really great time. If you’re reading this after, may I be the first person to wish you a merry Christmas 2016. How’s that for forward planning.
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Intimate Sexual Situations, Rape, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 369 Summary: It started with a surprising proposals from an unexpected source, but that was only the beginning. Soon, Harry finds himself dealing with forces beyond his imagination and dreams, and ultimately finds that the world is not what he believed it to be. Hitcount: Story Total: 99048; Chapter Total: 4172 Author's Notes: |
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Harry’s prediction that Dean would be kept in the hospital wing overnight proved to be correct, meaning there were no more disturbances that evening. Seamus gave them some dark looks the following morning, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. The three boys descended from their dormitory and found Hermione and Ginny already waiting from them. “Luna sent a message to me via the D.A. coins. She’ll meet us by the marble staircase and join us for breakfast,” Hermione informed them by way of a greeting. “She get fed up of all her Housemates already?” Harry asked in a slightly disgusted tone. “I guess so. I do have to say, I’m quite glad I didn’t get sorted into Ravenclaw. They’re not a very friendly bunch,” Hermione agreed. “Yeah, they can be quite snooty. I discovered that when I was going out with Michael,” Ginny agreed. Deciding he didn’t want to hear anything more about his girlfriend’s experiences with the Ravenclaws, Harry led them out of the portrait hole. Pausing only to wish the Fat Lady a good morning, they headed down the corridor and soon found Luna waiting at the staircase as agreed. “Morning, Luna,” Ginny greeted her friend warmly. “Those despicable Housemates of yours didn’t give you any trouble, did they?” “No, although they did seem rather wary of me,” the blond girl replied. “Quite a few didn’t believe I was at the Ministry with Harry, though. Quite why they think I would make it up, I don’t know.” “Perhaps they’ll get the message if they see you sitting with us,” Harry suggested. “Err, Luna, where are your shoes?” Neville asked, looking at her bare feet in bemusement. “I’m not sure,” Luna explained with a faint frown. “Possibly a swarm of Gulping Plimpies hopped up from the lake and stole them. I must get some Gurdyroots to repel them.” “Or those miserable gits in your House stole them as some sort of sick joke,” Ginny growled. “That’s a possibility, too. But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll turn up.” “Yeah, especially after I threaten to hex a few of them,” Ginny muttered. Taking his scowling girlfriend’s hand, Harry led them down the marble staircase and towards the Entrance Hall. They had just reached the ground floor when they almost ran straight into Draco Malfoy and his friends, coming up from the dungeon. The boy looked in a foul mood. “Morning, Draco,” Harry said in a cheerful voice. “We weren’t graced by your usual visit on the Express this year. What’s the matter, Dracy-poo, don’t you love us anymore?” “Shut up, Potter!” Malfoy snarled. “I’m not in the mood to listen to your pathetic babblings.” “Oh, what’s the matter? The school year not starting well for you?” Harry taunted. “Didn’t Daddy give you your allowance before you arrived here? Oh, wait, he couldn’t could he, on account of him rotting in Azkaban where he belongs.” Draco turned an alarming shade of red and his friends began fan out behind him, all sending hate-filled glances in Harry’s direction and reaching into their robes, no doubt for their wands. Behind him, Harry sensed his friends doing the same. “My father won’t be in there for long,” Draco spat, his body shaking with anger, “and when he does get out, you and your little friends there will rue the day you were born!” “Yeah, well, as Lucius did such a piss-poor job of catching us back in the Ministry, I’m not too worried,” Harry replied with bravado. “Still, I doubt your master will be too happy with him, eh? Failing to capture a single one of us, not retrieving the prophecy, and then getting caught himself! I bet old Voldemort will have your father’s guts for garters.” “Don’t you dare say his name!” Pansy screeched from where she was standing right next to Draco. She pulled her wand from out of her robes and pointed it directly at Harry. The rest of the Slytherins copied her actions, and a flurry of activity in the corner of his eye told Harry his friends and also drawn their wands. He stood impassively looking at the apoplectic Malfoy. “It’s just a made up name, Pansy,” Harry told the girl calmly. “It’s a ridiculous affectation created to make him sound more impressive than he actually is. I mean, ‘Tom Riddle’ isn’t exactly a name that inspires awe, is it?” “Shut up, you lying bastard!” Draco yelled. By now, the confrontation between the Slytherins and Gryffindors had attracted a lot of attention. A small crowd had gathered, although quite a few of them vanished rather quickly when wands were pulled. Several other spectators, however, looked like they wanted nothing more than for the spells to start flying. “I’m not lying, Draco,” Harry said in a calm, clear voice. “His true name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was born on the 31st December 1926 to a Muggle named Tom Riddle Senior, and a pathetic witch named Merope Gaunt. Because Merope could claim to be a distant descendant of Salazar Slytherin, Tom thought this made him one of the Founders’ direct heirs. Perhaps he is, but that doesn’t give him an automatic right to rule over everyone, does it? No, in truth Tom is just an angry, bitter Half-blood who thinks the world owes him something. He’s committed such horrific acts, and mutilated himself so badly, that he’s hardly human now. That’s what I don’t understand; you lot bang on about purity so much, how come you pick someone who can barely call themselves a human being anymore to lead you? I mean, I suspect it’s just because you’re all shit-scared of him, but why you keep going on about ‘Muggleborn-this’ and ‘blood-purity that’, I have no idea.” The Slytherins were staring at him with a mixture of horror and anger. Clearly, they had no idea whether to believe him or not. “How dare you,” Draco said in a low, angry voice, finally pointing his own wand at Harry. “How bloody dare you! He’ll kill you! You and all your friends; he’ll kill every last one of you!” “Oh, like he hasn’t tried that before,” Harry snorted. “The trouble is, he seems more partial to killing his own servants who’ve failed him. Do you know anyone who might have failed the Dark Lord in any way, Draco?” The blond boy paled visibly, and Harry guessed he’d been up to the Room of Requirement the previous evening and had received a nasty surprise. Draco now seemed to have lost all pretence at composure and his arm was trembling as he held his wand. A half-formed curse was already on his lips and you could almost taste the impending violence in the air. Although the Slytherins outnumber him and his friends, Harry was certain that the extra power that he and Ginny could wield more than evened the odds. “What’s going on here?” Harry turned and saw Professors Snape and McGonagall, along with the Head Girl, this year a Hufflepuff whose name he couldn’t quite remember, hurrying towards them. No doubt the Head Girl had seen the confrontation brewing and warned the teachers. He reflected wryly that it must have been one of the few occasions a senior prefect had actually done their job correctly. “Potter! I might have known you’d be at the heart of any trouble,” Snape spat. “You just can’t stop yourself from brewing mischief, can you? You’ll be serving detention with me for a week.” “Professor Snape, I think you’re forgetting that I am the senior staff member here,” McGonagall said coldly, “and I would also like to know why you’re attempting to punish the only pupil without his wand out?” Snape turned on the witch instantly. “Potter is a born trouble maker. He’s bound to be behind this altercation.” “And you feel you can just assume this without asking any questions, can you? I hardly think that’s the correct way to handle this situation,” McGonagall told her colleague firmly. “I… very well. Malfoy, what happened here?” Snape asked with a sneer. “Oh, no, I think we’ll ask someone a little more impartial, shall we. Applebee, what occurred here?” McGonagall asked the Hufflepuff Head Girl. “Well, Professor, I didn’t see the start of it, but when I arrived these two groups of Gryffindors and Slytherins were facing off and insulting each other. Then Potter said You-Know-Who’s name, and that dark haired Slytherin girl pulled her wand on him. Then they all followed suit, apart from Potter who was just telling the Slytherins… things… about the Dark Lord. Incredible things,” Applebee explained, looking at Harry in disbelief. “Things? What sort of things?” McGonagall demanded. “Like his real name and who his parents were. Is it true? Is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named really a Half-blood called Riddle?” the girl gasped. “You can’t keep your mouth shut, can you Potter?” Snape sneered. “Do you know what he’ll do to you if he finds out you’ve been saying such things?” “Oh, I don’t know — perhaps try to kill me? Mind you, he’s been trying that since I was a baby so I’m kind of use to it by now. But tell me, sir, don’t you think that this information should be shared? Perhaps a few blood supremacists might be dissuaded from joining him if they found out the truth,” Harry said reasonably. “Quite right, Mr Potter,” McGonagall interrupted. “Miss Applebee, Mr Potter is quite right in what he says. In fact, Tom Riddle was a pupil in this very school. He was even Head Boy during the 1944 to 1945 term here, and his name is recorded on the roll in the Trophy Room. That’s not one of the school’s proudest memories, I must admit, but no one could have known the monster Riddle would later turn into back then.” “Lies, all lies!” Parkinson yelled defiantly. “Are you calling me a liar, Miss Parkinson? Detention for you, I think, and all your friends, too, as it appears you were the first to draw their wands,” McGonagall said firmly. “What about them? They all have their wands drawn, as well,” Snape pointed out, pointing at the Gryffindors. “Merely reacting to being threatened, I have no doubt,” McGonagall sniffed. “Still, you are correct that it was an overly-aggressive response, so they will all serve a single night’s detention with me. All apart from Mr Potter, of course, who wisely kept his wand in his robes.” Snape glared at his superior for a second, before turning and stalking off. “All of you, I believe breakfast is waiting,” the Deputy Head said firmly. “I think you Slytherins can go first so I can keep an eye on you. Off you go.” The Slytherins shuffled passed, all sending glares of pure loathing at Harry and his friends. Once they were safely in the Great Hall, McGonagall gestured for her Gryffindors to follow them in. “Blimey, detention on our first day,” Ron grumbled, before a smile appeared on his lips. “Still, it was worth it just to see Draco’s face. It was priceless.” “I suppose we prefects shouldn’t be reacting like that, but if we reported them, Snape would just have protected his favourites, wouldn’t he?” Hermione sighed. “There’s no justice in the world.” “I don’t know, I think Professor McGonagall did pretty well just then,” Neville disagreed. “Yeah, she did, didn’t she?” Harry smiled as he took his seat at the table. “Something tells me she’s finally lost patience with dear Professor Snape and isn’t going to put up with his crap anymore.” “Good for her. Shame she’s not Headmistress; she’d soon sort this place out,” Ginny said firmly. “Maybe she will be some day,” Harry said quietly, reaching for the pumpkin juice. “Still, I’ll tell you all one thing; I’m bloody glad I’m not taking any classes with Snape anymore.” “Yeah, thanks for reminding me, mate,” Ron said sourly. Harry’s smile was radiant. HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP It was with some trepidation that Harry, Hermione and Ron made their way to the first Potions Class given by Horace Slughorn. After twice berating the man, Harry wasn’t sure what exactly to expect. They entered the familiar dungeon which was surprisingly already full of vapours and odd smells. It appeared that they were the last to arrive, which was unsurprising as they had the furthest to come. Four Slytherins, including a sneering Malfoy, were already seated at one table, and four Ravenclaws at another. Sitting by himself at the third table was Ernie Macmillan, who appeared to be the only Hufflepuff to have taken the subject. The three Gryffindors joined the rather pompous, but otherwise agreeable, young man at the table. Slughorn entered the room and threw Harry a rather appeasing look, before addressing the class. “Good morning to you all. Scales out, please, and your potion kits, not to mention your copies of Advanced Potion-Making.” Everyone scrambled to comply. Harry placed his new Potion book on the table, glad that he’d had some prior warning that he was taking this class, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have even purchased the book. “Excellent,” the small, fat man beamed. “Now, I’ve prepared a few potions for you to look at. These are all prime examples of the kind of things you will be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. Now, can anyone tell me what this one is?” Naturally, Hermione’s hand was in the air almost immediately. “It’s Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth,” Hermione said brightly. “Very good indeed,” Slughorn praised. He was even more impressed when Hermione succeeded in identifying his next two potions, Polyjuice and Amortentia. The latter potion gave Harry pause for thought. As Hermione explained how the potion was supposed to smell differently according to what attracts an individual, he took a deep breath. The aromas of treacle tart and polished broom wood weren’t unsurprising, but neither was the third scent. Instantly, he had a vision of a head of long, coppery hair, gently rippling in the breeze. Unbidden, a smile came to his lips and he almost felt like running out of the class in search of his girlfriend. Slughorn seemed genuinely delighted to have a student as capable as Hermione in his class, and was lavish in awarding points to Gryffindor for her diligence, much to Malfoy’s obvious disgust. Harry was at least pleased to see that the man had a policy of rewarding achievement, rather than House status as Snape had done. Still, he’d never doubted Slughorn’s teaching abilities, just his morality. “Right, time to get to work, I believe,” Slughorn announced, “but I’m going to add a little incentive to you all. In this third cauldron I have a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis, more commonly known as liquid luck. I will be offering a tiny bottle of this to whoever creates the best Draught of Living Death today. Turn to page ten of your books and get started!” Never before had Harry seen his classmates so eager to begin brewing a potion. Everyone began to scramble round, preparing their ingredients, heating their cauldrons and desperately re-reading their text books. Malfoy, in particular, seemed very keen to make the prize his own. Harry stared at the instructions in his crisp new book and frowned. As had become increasingly common for him over the last few months, reading an apparently unfamiliar task had triggered some dim and distant memory in his head; a memory that was not originally his own. Tom had been an excellent Potions student, and he retained a distinct memory of brewing this very potion previous. Still, some of the instructions in the book didn’t look quite right to him. Trusting the memories of his nemesis over the rigid textbook interpretation, Harry began to get to work. Most of the instructions were as he remembered them, but he deviated in certain important respects, crushing ingredients rather than cutting them, adding the occasional additional stir to the mix, and altering the heat under the cauldron slightly. He saw Hermione watching him in frustrated fascination, her own potion apparently refusing to cooperate to her satisfaction, but she remained mute. “And time’s up!” Slughorn called. “Stop stirring, please.” The Professor began to walk around the room, peering into cauldrons and occasionally giving them a quick sniff. Eventually he reached the table Harry and his friends were sitting at. He gave Ron’s tarlike effort a rueful smile, virtually ignored Ernie’s disastrous effort, but rewarded Hermione with an approving nod. When he looked at Harry’s effort, he grinned in delight. “A clear winner!” Slughorn cried. “Excellent, Harry most excellent. A few drops of this would probably kill us all! You’ve obviously inherited your mother’s talent in Potions. Congratulations, one bottle of Felix Felicis is yours, use it well, my boy.” Harry accepted the small bottle thoughtfully, noting the furious looks on the faces of the Slytherins. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. “Sir, if this potion is so useful, why don’t people take it all the time?” he asked his teacher. “Ah, well, if used in excess this little potion can be quite dangerous, you see. It can engender recklessness and dangerous overconfidence in the user, not to mention it can be highly toxic in large quantities,” Slughorn explained. “No, my boy, use this sparingly and pick the right occasion. I promise you that if you do you will be richly rewarded.” Harry pretended to consider the matter before the moment, before handing the vial back to his surprised teacher. “Actually, sir, when you put it like that, I think I can do without this potion,” Harry declared loudly. “If I’m going to succeed in something, I’ll achieve it on my own merits. I wouldn’t want certain people to accuse me of relying on Felix Felicis to achieve anything, would I?” Rather than being upset, Slughorn seemed delighted by this statement. “Very wise, Harry, very wise, indeed! Clearly, you are a young wizard who is very confident in your own abilities, and rightly so, I say. Take an additional twenty points to Gryffindor instead, and I’ll be looking forward to seeing more of your brewing exploits in coming lessons.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco staring at him with a mixture of surprise and loathing. Once again, the crown prince of Slytherin had been humbled by a mere Half-blood. As they filed out of the classroom after the lesson had ended, Ron immediately turned on him. “Have you gone barking mad?” he demanded. “Why did you just hand back that potion? Think what you could have done with that!” “I think Harry did the right thing,” Hermione insisted. “You shouldn’t become reliant on temporary fixes like Felix Felicis. Besides, haven’t you seen what Harry is capable of these days? I rather doubt he needs a silly little potion like that, anyway.” “Exactly, besides, look how confused the Slytherins were,” Harry pointed out. “They would have given their back teeth for that little bottle, and by just handing it back I’ve thrown them into confusion. They’ll be second-guessing themselves now.” “I suppose,” Ron said grudgingly. “Besides, if I really do feel I need a dose of Felix, I can always have a go at mixing up a batch myself, can’t I? I seem to remember a handy little disused girl’s bathroom we could always use.” “Hey, yeah!” Ron said, brightening considerably. “Not that I foresee the need for it any time soon,” Harry added. “It always pays to keep your options open,” Hermione noted. “Now, I’ve got Ancient Runes next, what about you two?” “Divination,” Ron replied glumly. “And I’ve got a private lesson with Dumbledore,” Harry said cheerfully. “There’s no need to look so bloody happy about it,” Ron complained. “Why not?” Harry grinned. “Especially as your sister will be joining me.” “Great,” Ron noted sourly, before stomping off in the direction of the Divination classroom. HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHP Harry stood back and watched the girl he loved in amazement. Currently, she was using her wand to control a stream of liquid fire which was snaking around the Room of Requirement gracefully. It almost reminded him of a kite on a string, such was the way Ginny was skilfully guiding it about. “Most impressive, Miss Weasley,” Dumbledore congratulated her. “That really is a most remarkable sight.” “I would never have been able to do this if Harry hadn’t shown me how,” she responded. “He was right, it’s much easier if you’re actually transforming the air itself.” “Indeed, although I would definitely refrain from referring to what you are doing as easy,” Dumbledore chuckled, before turning to Harry. “Well, my boy, are you just going to let this marvellous young lady do all the work?” “I’m quite happy to just stand and watch her, sir. In fact, I could do that all day,” Harry grinned, but nevertheless, he pulled out his wand. With a slight frown of concentration, he conjured a second dancing stream of fire. While Ginny’s fire was a bright yellowish-orange, his was more of a white-blue colour. With a smile on his lips, he sent the flame chasing after Ginny’s. She chortled in delight, and soon a game of aerial tag developed. Dumbledore stood and watched them with an almost radiant expression on his face. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected a pair of teenage pupils to show such power and control,” he murmured in awe. “Tell me, are either of you drawing on your own magical cores, or just using the ambient energy around you?” “I don’t think any of this is coming from within me,” Harry admitted. “No, me neither,” Ginny added. “Amazing,” the old man breathed. “Do you realise what potential the pair of you have? A whole world, a universe even, of boundless energy at your fingertips, with only your will and imaginations to limit you. Truly, I find it staggering.” “What do you think we should be learning next?” Harry asked as his blue jet of flame did a barrel roll around Ginny’s. “Hmm, you both seem to have mastered tapping into the energy source, so theoretically you could achieve virtually anything,” Dumbledore mused. “Of course, things are never so simple and you will need to practice your control and implementation. I also feel we need to conduct some exercises to free your imaginations, as it were. All this power would be wasted if you cannot shape your wills into doing something creative with it, after all.” Harry let his steam of fire die, and Ginny immediately did the same. “Professor, what we’re doing… has anyone ever been able to do this before?” Harry asked hesitantly. “Not with the ease and facility that you do, no. I would stress, however, that while you and Ginevra are both amazingly powerful, that alone is not always enough. Should, for instance, you have the misfortune to face Lord Voldemort again anytime soon, I don’t doubt that you would be defeated. Power is wasted if the person wielding it lacks the experience and know-how to utilise it. That is why we must continue your training, and endeavour to open new worlds for you to explore. Truthfully, I must confess I find the prospect of what we might discover tremendously exciting.” “Me, too, sir,” Ginny grinned. “I think that is enough for today,” Dumbledore noted. “Before your next lesson I would like you both to consider a task I wish to set you. Currently, you both seem to have some talent at manipulating the air around us and transforming it into other things. For our next session, I want you to create an object, it can be anything you like, but totally from scratch, with no Transfiguration involved. Are you two up for the task?” “Umm, yeah,” Harry said dubiously. “I mean, I’ll really have to give some thought as to how I go about it, though. That’s really quite different as to how I’ve been doing things up to this point.” “Which is why I’m asking you to do it,” Dumbledore smiled. “Right, off you pop.” With a cheerful nod, Harry and Ginny exited the Room of Requirement. “Well, that was a million times better than being in a History of Magic class,” Ginny enthused. “I just wish Mum had let me drop more subjects so I could concentrate on this.” “At least I can pass on anything I learn without you,” Harry assured her, before glancing at his watch. “Bit early for lunch yet. Anything particular you fancy doing for half-an-hour?” “Mmm, what are you suggesting?” she asked saucily. “I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting,” he grinned, slipping his arm around her. “Sounds like fun,” she agreed. “Although, on a related subject, there is something I want to talk to you about. Come on, let’s find a nice, deserted classroom somewhere.” Intrigued, Harry let himself be led down the corridor. After some searching, they eventually found a classroom that looked like it hadn’t been used in the last ten years. A few hastily cast charms on the door ensured they had complete privacy. The second Harry lowered his wand, he was pulled into a searing kiss by his girlfriend. He responded enthusiastically, and began to let his hands wander over her young, nubile body. “Yum,” he yummed as their lips broke contact. “We definitely haven’t been doing that enough lately.” “And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Ginny replied, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as she spoke. “Harry, I… I… oh, bugger it! Harry, I want to get laid again!” “Me, too, but do we dare? You remember what happened last time. I mean, I think Dumbledore will figure out what we’re up to if a massive magical storm suddenly kicks off in the middle of the castle.” “Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about that. The Professor said that we somehow triggered that storm by reacting with the ambient magic in the air, right? As I recall, we were both radiating a lot of magic while we were, you know, doing it, so all we need to do is find a way to shield ourselves and not leak energy everywhere.” “Sounds logical,” he agreed, “but how do we do that?” “Well, I have to confess that I’ve been playing around with creating a kind of shield to protect us. I managed to create this sort of magical bubble which surrounded me, and I tried casting some spells at the surface of it. After a few attempts, I managed to get it so that none of the spells penetrated the bubble at all. Between the two of us, I bet we can reinforce it so we get no leakage, at all.” “Wow, you really do want to get laid again, don’t you? Not that I’m complaining in any way, shape or form. Nah, your bubble sounds like a brilliant idea! Why don’t you show me how it’s done, and we can have a practice now?” “Great, and, who knows, if we can get this working right now, perhaps we can sneak off and visit the Room of Requirement again this evening,” she grinned seductively. Harry grabbed his wand. He was definitely going to make this protective bubble work, if it was the last thing he did! HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP It was a little after dinner when Harry and Ginny crept back to the Room of Requirement. Fortunately, no one had noticed them slip out of the Gryffindor common room and the Marauders Map had allowed them to get this far without running into anyone. “Hurry up, Harry,” Ginny urged him as they paused in front of the tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy. “Create a nice room for us to use!” “Alright, calm down; I’m as keen as you are, you know,” he replied, hurriedly walking up and down three times. In truth, ‘sprint’ would have been a closer description to the speed he was going than ‘walk’. He grinned in triumph as a now familiar door appeared in the wall. Grabbing Ginny’s hand, he flung the door open and nearly dragged her inside. Once he saw the space that the Room of Requirement had created for them, however, he stopped dead. “Why, Harry Potter! You old letch!” Ginny giggled. Quite where in the depths of his imagination he’d dreamt up this place was a mystery. It wasn’t a huge space, by any means, but the shocking pink walls made it look smaller than it actually was. The shag-pile carpet was an interesting touch, as was the mirrored ceiling. The real center piece, however, was the huge bed, covered in black, silk sheets and red, heart-shaped cushions scattered over it. He would dearly have liked to blame the whole monstrosity on Tom’s imagination, but there was no way he could ever pin this on him. “Err, perhaps I’d better try and create something else,” Harry noted dubiously. “Oh, no; this is just perfect,” Ginny smirked. “At least I know how your mind works, you old lothario, you! Got any more interesting little fetishes you want to tell me about?” “This is all the room’s own doing,” Harry insisted. “I was just thinking I wanted a suitable place to make love to my girlfriend.” “Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” she grinned. “Never mind that, we haven’t got long before curfew. We can’t afford to waste too much time,” he insisted, secretly deciding he’d do some serious self-analysis later. “Do you want to cast your protective bubble, or shall I?” “Actually, to be on the safe side, I thought we’d better both do it. Less chance of any magic escaping that way. You will be careful this time, won’t you?” Harry scowled at her. During their practice session that morning he’d accidentally created a bubble that was not only magic-proof, but also completely airtight. Fortunately, he’d managed to dispel his creation long before they ran out of oxygen. “Yeah, I can manage if you can,” he snapped, pulling out his wand. Ginny looked far too amused by the proceedings as she too removed her wand from her robes. Concentrating, he began to visualise Ginny’s protective bubble, being sure to cover every minute detail of its construction. When he was sure he had it down perfectly, he began to gather the ambient magical energy from around him, before releasing it with a swish of his wand. Looking up, he saw the area surrounding them was encased in a golden glow, which he associated with success. A second later, the glow intensified as Ginny released her magic. If nothing else, it blotted out the dreadful pink walls. “What do you think?” he asked her. “Do you think this will stop all that energy leaking out and triggering a hurricane?” “I think so,” Ginny confirmed, peering at the bubble intently. “Hopefully, this time we’ll radiant less energy, anyway. I mean, we didn’t even realise that’s what we were doing before. Now we know we do that, we can prevent it, I think.” Harry looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Well, if everything is prepared…” he drawled. “Then let’s not waste any more time!” she said enthusiastically, launching herself at him. Fortunately, he’d been standing right beside the bed so he landed on it, with Ginny on top of him. As they hurriedly began to pull off each other’s clothing, he realised that it was actually a waterbed. He felt a brief stab of mortification that his subconscious was apparently so cheesy, before he lost himself to more pleasurable thoughts… Half-an-hour later, an exhausted Harry Potter collapsed back onto the bed. Ginny flopped down beside him, panting heavily. “Bloody… hell…” he gasped. “That was… was….” “Amazing,” Ginny managed to pant. “There should be a law against this,” he murmured wanly. “Nothing should be this good.” “I thought the first time was brilliant, but this…” she trailed off, and lay still for a moment. “We should really check outside to make sure we haven’t leaked any magic,” Harry said. “Yeah,” she confirmed. Neither of them moved. “Oh, bugger it, what’s the odd tornado between friends?” he muttered. Ginny giggled softly. “I think we’ll be alright,” she announced. “Couldn’t you feel all the magic enveloping us? The first time, we were just pumping energy out in all directions, but this time it seemed to be all around us. Honestly, I think we could have used it as a mattress, it was so dense.” “What’s wrong with the mattress I created?” he asked in an offended tone, patting the bed affectionately. “Other than I started to feel sea-sick at one point?” she smirked. “Everyone’s a critic,” he complained. “Still, isn’t it weird that we kick out all this magic when we’re making love? I know Dumbledore said it was because we were magically attracted to each other, but there must be more to it than that. I mean, your mum and dad never threatened to magically level the Burrow when they were making you lot, did they?” “I don’t believe so, and thank you for putting the image of my parents having sex into my brain,” Ginny groused, “but, actually, I admit I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. I believe we were actually performing Sex Magic, you know.” “Really? I thought that was weird, dark stuff,” Harry said in surprise. “A common misapprehension, apparently. I must admit I thought the same, until I questioned Hermione about the subject. You know, for someone who comes over as a bit straight-laced, she doesn’t half know a lot about sex rituals.” “It’s always the ones you least expect,” Harry said sagely. “Probably,” she laughed, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at him. “Did you know, for instance, that you don’t actually need another person to perform Sex Magic? You can do it all by yourself.” “Ah, so that’s what I hear Seamus practicing every night after lights-out,” Harry smirked. “Ick! That’s another image I don’t want in my head!” she laughed. “But, seriously, there’s a lot of misunderstanding and confusion about it. I grew up believing there’s something sinister about Sex Magic, but there’s nothing further from the truth.” “Well, it’s not like it’s on Hogwarts’ current curriculum, is it?” Harry point out. “I mean, can you imagine McGonagall teaching it? ‘Okay, class, everyone strip off and form a circle. Now, who wants to be partnered with me?’ Yeah, that would go down well!” “And yet another image I didn’t want,” she giggled. “But the circle thing is a good example of the misperception surrounding this type of magic. Everyone seems to assume that it’s ritualistic and performed in a very precise manner. That’s simply not true. Also, you just can’t do it with a complete stranger and expect it to work. Sex Magic is only effective when it’s performed with someone you love. It’s all about creating and channelling energy, and, as Dumbledore is so fond of saying, love is the most powerful force in the universe. When performed in the correct conditions, Sex Magic will allow strong magical forces to be generated and released. The only ritualistic elements to it are connected to the utilisation of this energy. Sometimes, a specific ritual or series of charms are required to harness the power.” “Wait a minute,” Harry interrupted. “Creating and channelling energy? But that’s what we’ve been learning to do.” “Exactly. The more I learnt about Sex Magic, the more I saw how similar it was to what we do. It’s all about harnessing primal forces, I guess. Sex is ultimately about the creation of life, just as all this swirling energy we see is the stuff that the universe is created from. If you think about it, it’s no surprise that someone who can use that ambient energy would create more of it during sex.” “Blimey, this is all heady stuff,” he noted in awe. “Yeah, Hermione referred to it as the ‘Keys of Creation’ and one of the cornerstones of this reality. Dumbledore said that all matter was ultimately made from this energy, and we’ve just been making more of it.” “Amazing,” he whispered, before a more prosaic thought occurred to him. “Didn’t Hermione want to know why you were asking about all this?” “Of course, but she knows we’ve been intimate. I just told her that we had an ‘interesting’ reaction when we first did it, and that was enough to launch her into her lecture on Sex Magic and its practical applications.” “Hermione knows we’ve shagged?” Harry gasped. “Yeah, of course. Come on, Harry, how long do you think it would have taken her to figure it out? Nothing gets past that girl.” “I know, but it still feels… weird. I mean, I bet you wouldn’t want to know if Ron did it with Hermione, would you?” Harry pointed out. “Too late, I already know,” Ginny sighed. “What? Really?” “Yeah, didn’t Ron tell you? I’m surprised he wasn’t boasting. Still, he’s probably got a rough idea what we get up to and is afraid if he blabs about him and Hermione, you’ll start explained exactly what you’ve been doing with me. That would definitely make him think twice!” “Yeah,” he agreed mutely, before glancing at his watch. “Bugger, we’ve only got ten minutes before curfew. We need to get back.” “Damn,” Ginny cursed, and leapt of the bed in search of her clothing. Harry followed her example and they hurriedly dressed. As soon as they were decent, they dispelled their magical bubble and left the Room of Requirement. Harry hurried over to the nearest window and looked out. “It’s dark out, already,” he noted, “but the sky looks clear. We haven’t touched off any storms, Ginny.” “Brilliant! You know what this means, Mr Potter?” “What?” “That you, sir, are going to be getting lucky a lot this term,” she smirked. Harry hoped that the grin that came to his face wasn’t as foolish as he imagined it was. “Come on, lover boy, we’d better get back,” Ginny laughed and they hurried down the corridor in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. If the two young lovers had waited a few moments, they might have witnessed an elderly wizard in shockingly bright purple robes ambling contently down the corridor. He paused to gaze out the window, admiring the clear night sky, before chuckling merrily. He then followed after the young Gryffindors, his eyes twinkling mischievously. HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HPHPHPHP Harry and Ginny were both rather late getting down to breakfast the next morning. They arrived in the Great Hall to find Ron already tucking into seconds, Hermione perusing a thin book as she picked at her food with one hand, and a rather depressed-looking Neville sitting staring morosely at his untouched food. “Hey, guys,” Harry greeted them as he and his girlfriend took their seats. “You took your time, didn’t you?” Ron said looking at them suspiciously. “Why, do you want to know what we were up to?” Ginny asked innocently. “No, not ever,” Ron shuddered and quickly turned his attention back to his food. “Morning everyone. Mind if I join you?” They turned to see Luna standing there with a radiant smile on her face. “Of course not. Sit yourself down,” Ginny told her friend, scooting over to make room. “Thanks. My fellow Ravenclaws were being rather tedious this morning. What’s the matter with you, Neville?” Luna asked directly. Neville jumped like he’d just been shot. He looked up at the others who were by now all staring at him inquisitively. “Oh, err, nothing really,” he mumbled. “Neville, we know you well enough by now to tell when you’re lying,” Ginny told him firmly. “Yes, tell us what the matter is. Maybe we can help,” Hermione added. “Nah, you can’t,” Neville told them in a miserable voice. “I just made a massive fool of myself, that’s all.” “What happened?” Hermione asked, beating the others by a split second. “It’s a bit embarrassing really,” he told them in a pained voice. “Nev, we’re all your friends, and we only want to help. We can see you’re upset and I promise none of us would do anything to make you feel worse,” Harry said encouragingly. “Yeah, mate,” Ron agreed. “Blimey, I’ve done enough embarrassing things in my time that I’ve got no room to take the mickey out of anyone else.” “Well…” Neville began reluctantly, “you know how Hannah Abbot recently split up with Ernie Macmillan?” “Umm, yeah,” Harry said, a little surprised. To be honest, he’d thought Ginny had made that up just so they could pressure Ron to ask Hermione out. “The thing is, I’ve always rather liked Hannah. She’s really pretty and an extremely nice person. I’ve partnered her during Herbology a few times and we’ve always got on really well.” “Yes, Hannah is very nice,” Hermione agreed. “Well, I sort of, umm, asked her out last night,” Neville blurted. “Oh, did she say no?” Ginny asked sympathetically. Neville nodded. “She wasn’t nasty about it or anything, but the problem was that she and Ernie have got back together again, and he was standing nearby when I asked her.” “Ah. Awkward,” Hermione noted with a wince. “Awkward doesn’t begin to cover it,” Neville moaned. “I thought he was going to hit me! He kept yelling at me that I was trying to nick his girlfriend and that I was a total creep. I would never have asked Hannah if I knew they’d patched things up, I swear.” “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re not that type of bloke,” Ginny confirmed. “What happened next?” Ron asked his distraught friend. “All of Ernie’s mates started to pile in,” Neville explained. “They were all yelling at me and shoving me about. I mean, I could hardly say anything, could I? I was in the wrong.” “You made a simple mistake. You had no way of knowing Hannah wasn’t free anymore,” Hermione sniffed, obviously annoyed on behalf of him. “Yeah, that Macmillan is a stuck-up idiot anyway. I dunno what Hannah even sees in him,” Ron added. “It was a stupid idea, anyway,” Neville lamented. “After all, who would want to go out with me?” “What, one of the daring young wizards who fought at the Ministry? Who bravely stood up to Voldemort’s most powerful followers?” Ginny asked with an arched eyebrow. “Yes, don’t under value yourself,” Hermione agreed. “You’re a kind, considerate wizard from an excellent family, extremely skilled at Herbology, and generally a nice person. Any witch would be proud to go out with you.” “Although Hermione’s taken, obviously,” Ron added quickly. “Seriously, mate, haven’t you seen all the young witches giving you the eye lately? Ever since that piece came out in the Daily Prophet about the Ministry battle, you’ve had admirers in every house,” Harry grinned. “Even Slytherin.” “Eh, what?” Neville exclaimed. “It’s true, Neville,” Luna agreed. “You’re actually quite cute, too.” Neville turned bright red. “Yeah, if Hannah would rather have that ponce Macmillan that’s her lookout,” Ginny said firmly. “There are plenty of other girls out there who are interested, and we’re going to find one for you!” “Err…” Neville mumbled, looking rather shocked. “Yes, come on, Neville. We’ll discuss what sort of attributes you’re looking for in a girl while we head to our next class,” Hermione said, pulling him to his feet. “Our next class is on the way, so we can help,” Luna exclaimed happily and grabbed Neville’s arm, practically dragging him along. “Absolutely,” Ginny agreed, taking his other arm. Hermione by this time had pulled a piece of parchment and was scribbling notes as they made their way out of the Great Hall. “Now, do you have a preference for blondes, brunets or redheads?” she asked. “Blimey, I almost feel sorry for the bloke,” Ron noted as he and Harry followed on behind. “Yeah, I reckon he’ll have a girlfriend by the end of the week, whether he wants one or not,” Harry chuckled. As they left the room, he happened to glance over towards the Hufflepuff table and saw Hannah Abbott staring at the departing Neville with a wistful expression on her face. Noticing him looking at her, she turned her head and gave Harry a questioning glance. Not feeling terribly charitable to the girl, he just gave her a hard stare and she quickly looked away. Harry sighed as he left the hall. He was probably being harsh on Hannah, but he couldn’t help himself. He might be on the verge of becoming one of the most powerful wizards to walk the earth, but he was still a teenager who was loyal to his friends. Besides, Ginny was right: Macmillan was a stuck-up ponce. |
| Reviews 369 |
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