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When Harry first spotted Ginny walking over, her fiery red hair shining in a sea of black robes, he thought she had another message for him from Dumbledore. He was sitting by himself in front of the fire in the common room, finishing up a Herbology essay. Hermione had marched off to the library immediately at the sight of Ron and Lavender’s tickle fight on the sofas in the corner, and Harry had half a mind to join her. There were some things he just didn’t need to see.
Ginny settled in the armchair next to him, having waved to get his attention as soon as she stepped through the portrait hole with Dean. Not that she needed to wave to get his attention. His eyes snapped to her like he had just spotted the snitch whenever she walked into a room.
The fire crackled merrily as she rummaged through her bookbag. ‘Could you give this to Hermione?’ she said, pulling out a small book. He took the book without sparing it a glance, instead admiring how amazing Ginny looked in the soft glow of the firelight. Harry couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to appreciate how warm her chocolate brown eyes were, how soft her plump lips looked, how the faintest hint of her curves were visible through her robes. ‘Harry?’
He snapped out of his reverie. ‘Oh, yeah, sorry. ‘Course I’ll give it to her. What is it?’ he asked, keen to continue the conversation and keep Ginny sitting next to him. A faint blush spread across her cheekbones. Or maybe it was just the heat from the fire.
‘Nothing interesting. Just some supplemental reading she gave me for my Arithmancy O.W.L.’
‘Sounds dull,’ Harry said, looking at the cover. Numerology for Numbskulls by Ben Dover was written on the unappealing yellow paper.
‘Unfortunately I don’t think anything’s going to help me with my Arithmancy exam,’ Ginny sighed. ‘I’m shit at it. I just don’t understand imaginary numbers.’
Harry, who didn’t know numbers could be imaginary at all, saw an opportunity and jumped on it. ‘You know, I could help you,’ he said, trying to sound offhand.
Ginny cocked an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know you took Arithmancy.’
‘I didn’t, but you know…’ he shrugged, casting around for a good reason. ‘I could read the book and quiz you on some of the concepts. And, being friends with Hermione, I’ve picked up on a few things.’
Ginny was smirking now. His ego would be bruised if she didn’t look so sexy doing it. ‘Have you?’
He leaned back in his armchair. ‘For your information, Hermione and I have many intellectual discussions. The meaning of life, Tibirius Monk’s perfect Wronski feint, imaginary numbers…’ he counted off on his fingers and Ginny giggled.
‘I mean, clearly you’re a proper Dumbledore,’ she said, resting her chin on her hand. Their faces were less than wand’s length apart. This would be the perfect moment to lean over slightly and kiss her, if it weren’t for Dean sitting a few metres away.
‘Sooo…’ Harry said, gesturing towards the book. ‘You know I’m a good teacher.’
His mind couldn’t help but conjure a million different ideas for study sessions with Ginny. Surely there were other Arithmancy books in the shadowy corners of the Restricted Section they could go looking for. If they ended up wrapped around each other together in a passionate snog, well, that was to be expected. Or they could go to a broom cupboard to practise their… sums? He really had a limited idea of what Arithmancy was.
‘I do know you’re a good teacher,’ Ginny said, smiling. Why did that sound so erotic coming out of her mouth? There were so many things he’d like to teach her. Mainly unclothed. ‘But I think you can stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts. You’ve got your hands full, I don’t want to add learning Arithmancy onto your plate.’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ he said, trying not to sound completely put out. ‘I guess I’ll just use the book for some light bedtime reading.’
Was it his imagination, or did Ginny blanch at that? ‘You know what,’ she said, reaching over to grab the book back and brushing up against his fingers in the process, ‘I can just give it to Hermione myself. I’m being so lazy anyways, trying to foist it on you instead of—’
‘No, no, I can give it to her.’ He flashed Ginny what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘I won’t bore myself by reading it, I promise. She’ll be here soon anyways.’ To emphasize his point, he looked around as if Hermione was going to magically appear behind him.
‘Okay,’ Ginny said, pulling her hands back. Harry immediately mourned the loss of contact. She grabbed her bookbag and fixed him with a look he couldn’t decipher. ‘Don’t open it!’ she called out playfully as she walked back towards Dean.
Obviously the first thing Harry did when got into bed that night was open the book. It was most likely just some dull-as-dishwater Arithmancy text that Hermione had fobbed off on Ginny in hope that she would take the subject more seriously… but maybe there’d still be a whiff of Ginny’s perfume on it.
He sighed loudly at his own pitifulness, then flushed red. He hadn’t put up any silencing charms, and the last thing he needed was his dormmates thinking he was having a wank while everyone was still getting ready for bed. He was already barely avoiding notice of how long he spent in the shower now, or how often he had to throw his sheets in the laundry in the morning.
It was all because of Ginny. Fiery, funny, beautiful, smart, charming Ginny, who had entrusted Harry and only Harry to return the book to Hermione. Not her boyfriend Dean.
That’s because you’re Hermione’s friend, you git, the unhelpful part of his subconscious told him.
Dean knows Hermione too! the more optimistic part of him retorted.
Suddenly his stomach dropped. In his excitement over receiving the book from Ginny, he realised that he had completely forgotten to actually give it to Hermione. To be fair, he had only seen her for a moment before she swept off to the girls’ dorms to avoid Ron and Lavender.
First thing tomorrow he would give the book to Hermione, he resolved. For now, it was his.
He flipped to a random part and tentatively stuck his nose in the seam, hoping some of Ginny’s flowery scent had rubbed off on it. To his disappointment, it just smelled like musty old paper. Before Harry could start wallowing at the level of depravity he’d stooped to, a word on the page caught his eye.
Sex. He paused. What did sex have to do with Arithmancy? Is that why Ginny and Hermione were taking it? He read on.
…at Genevieve’s sopping sex.
‘I’ve wanted you for so long,’ Jasper said. Genevieve’s breath hitched in her throat. She could hardly believe that they were on the way to their honeymoon. The carriage rocked unsteadily as Jasper slid off his seat and kneeled in front of her. ‘My lady.’
Genevieve moaned. All she had wanted since she was a little girl, staring out of her bedroom window onto the Mayfair promenade, was to be Lady Wandsworth. She never thought Jasper would notice her. How sorely she was mistaken.
Jasper grasped her calf tenderly and peered up at her with his piercing eyes. ‘May I eat you, my love?’
‘Eat me? I don’t understand,’ Genevieve sputtered.
‘Did your mama not tell you of what happens in the marital bed?’
‘She did,’ Genevieve said, blushing crimson. ‘I know what it takes to make a child. But I have heard nothing of eating.’
‘Eating, darling,’ Jasper said as he pushed the hem of her wedding dress up, ‘is when I lick your sex until you burst.’
Genevieve gasped as his tongue reached her most intimate part. He started slowly, circling her clitoris with languid movements until she cried out and threw her head back. Jasper continued even as her orgasm overtook her, gripping at her thighs as she trembled with aftershocks.
When her breathing slowed Jasper removed his head from underneath her skirts, his lips wet with her release.
Stunned, Harry shut the book with a sharp snap! His mind raced. He thought back to all the times Hermione had been reading some tome with an indecipherable title, which was pretty much constantly since the moment he met her. Had she just been reading smut all that time? No, no, he thought. Hermione was too knowledgeable for someone who’d been exclusively reading erotica for the past five years.
He clawed at the inside flap of the book jacket, trying to prise it off, but it wouldn’t budge. He picked up his wand, tapped at it and the fake cover fell off instantly, revealing a golden embossed title.
Seducing Mr. Wandsworth
By Fifi LaFolle
Book 7 in the Enchanted Encounters series
Pictured beneath was a man and woman locked in a steamy embrace with a garden backdrop. He flipped the book over to read the synopsis.
Genevieve Elgin has adored her brother’s best friend for… ever. After half her life of pining for him, she’s no closer to his heart. Nor is she closer to the heart of any man in her third year on the marriage market. With a horde of troublesome siblings and a tenacious mama determined to marry her off to whomever asks for her hand first, Genevieve knows she needs to take matters into her own hands.
When Jasper Wandsworth returns to Mayfair after travels abroad, it seems like nothing at home has changed. Except for his best friend’s little sister, Genevieve Elgin. When Genevieve asks him for a simple kiss, worried that she may never get married, Jasper’s world is turned upside down. Could his best friend’s sister really be the love of his life?
‘I think so,’ Harry muttered to himself. His mind raced. He wondered if Seducing Lord Wandsworth counted as porn. It was certainly more descriptive than the nudie mags he’d gotten a peek of in the dorms. The thought of Ginny reading the book was so arousing he couldn’t think of anything else. He wondered if it turned her on.
Ever the detective, Harry examined Ginny’s motive for giving him Lord Wandsworth. Did she simply want him to be the unwitting mule for her pornography ring? Or was she trying to send him a message? He couldn’t help but draw similarities between their situation and the relationship between Lord Wandsworth and Genevieve, especially as he flipped back and started the novel from the beginning.
Before he knew it, all the lights had been extinguished and he could only read by wandlight. The sun rose as he reached the final page. He knew he should sleep but he was too worked up by all of the exciting, terrifying possibilities the book had ignited in him.
When he grasped himself, he thought of kneeling before Ginny in a carriage.
~
The next morning Harry woke up with a start. He had slept with the book right next to him, his fingers curled around the spine. The fake cover, recovered from underneath his elbow, was heavily creased from rolling around in his sleep.
He felt dirty at the prospect of giving Hermione the book. He didn’t really want to be involved in her pornography consumption. That was his mental justification for why he kept it for another week, anyways.
Really he was just obsessed with the novel. Knowing that Ginny’s fingers had turned the same pages, that she had read the same illicit words as him was an incredible aphrodisiac. Did she touch herself, too, as she pictured the scenes in the book?
Seducing Lord Wandsworth quickly became more interesting than following Malfoy or reading the annotations in his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Every moment spent in class or doing homework in the common room was just a countdown until he could go to bed, pull the curtains shut tight, and pour over the book until another second without release would be unbearable.
Looming over his head was the possibility that Hermione would inquire about Lord Wandsworth. At breakfast the morning after he was supposed to give it to her, Harry carefully watched her demeanour, looking for any signs of discomfort. Unfortunately, it was difficult to determine if Hermione’s sour expression was due to needing to bring up an uncomfortable topic, or because Lavender was spoon-feeding Ron porridge a few seats down from them.
After Hermione grabbed her bookbag in a huff and set off for the library, Harry assumed it was the latter. He sighed and took another sip of orange juice. Ron and Hermione’s rift grew more tiresome by the day, but at least it left him ample time to daydream about Ginny.
Harry watched as Lavender and Parvarti got up from the bench. Parvati tugged on her friend’s arm while Lavender blew Ron one last kiss. Ron caught it half-heartedly and slid over to sit across from Harry as he took another sip of juice to hide his laugh.
‘Where’d Hermione go?’ Ron said, the tips of his ears burning red.
‘Where do you think?’
Ron nodded and drummed his fingers across the weathered table, staring off into space.
‘You know, you could—’ Harry started.
‘What do you think are the Cannons’ chances for the match this week?’ Ron interrupted.
Harry sighed. The pair of them were impossible. ‘A hundred-fifty nil, mate.’
They continued talking about the Cannons’ prospects as the bell rang and they headed down to the dungeons for Potions. Harry pushed the book out of his mind. It seemed like Hermione had more pressing issues than the whereabouts of Lord Wandsworth.
~
It was a few days after the book incident, as Harry had taken to thinking about it as, when Ginny approached him after Quidditch practice looking windswept and gorgeous, her hair glowing in the Scottish sunset.
Harry was wrestling with the bludgers to put them back in their case. Ron and Dean, who usually helped him with this, had already started their walk back to the castle after lightly ribbing him for making them do extra wind sprints.
He tried not to look up instinctively at the sound of Ginny’s voice. He had received far too many bludger injuries recently because he was distracted by her.
‘Let me help,’ she said, moving to the other side of the case to do up the straps as Harry held the balls in. After they were done and Harry carried the bludgers back into the captain’s office, Ginny followed him in and sat down on the ratty sofa near the door.
Harry’s heart pounded as he shoved the case unceremoniously in the equipment cupboard and shut the door before it could fall out. Ginny had never sat down on the sofa alone before. She’d leaned over his shoulder while he copied out plays while he’d sat at his desk, or sat on the old thing with Ron, swapping rude jokes. But they’d never been alone on the sofa before. His mind whirred with the possibilities.
Harry had envisioned shagging Ginny on that sofa a thousand times over. Not for their first time, obviously. That needed to happen somewhere slightly more refined. The Room of Requirement, perhaps? Or the boys’ dorm, with everyone mysteriously cleared out…
The sofa would be for when they returned to the locker room after two hours of hard flying at Quidditch practice, sweaty and their muscles sore, but with a need that could only be sated by each other. Ginny would ride him, breasts bouncing, crying out that she’d never felt this way before as she came. Then they’d go to the showers for round two.
His hand shaking, he locked the equipment cupboard and slid the ring of keys in his pocket. He was supposed to bring them back to Madam Hooch, but there was no way Harry would ruin this moment by rushing over to her office.
Instead of sitting at his desk chair, which was a respectable distance away, he wedged next to Ginny on the sofa, who smiled at him. Was there any other way to interpret this situation than, I want you so badly I can barely breathe?
‘Are you allowed to do that?’ Ginny said, gesturing towards Harry’s crotch.
His eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. Could she not only see the slight bulge that was already forming— but was commenting on it? Part of him was humiliated, part of him was turned on, and part of him was turned on that Ginny was humiliating him.
‘Put the keys in your pocket, I mean,’ she half-smirked, though Harry could see the blush on her face. ‘Unless you’re just happy to see me.’
Relief, disappointment and red-hot lust swept through Harry all at once. ‘I’m always happy to see you,’ he said dumbly, then inwardly cursed himself when Ginny blushed a deeper red.
‘We should head back up for dinner,’ she said awkwardly, standing up and brushing imaginary dirt off her Quidditch robes. Without waiting for a response, she walked out of the captain’s office, leaving Harry alone on the sofa.
Trying to will down his erection, he followed her out. She was waiting for him by the door of the locker rooms but looking pointedly away. Maybe she was feeling guilty about Dean. At that prospect, Harry’s heart soared. If they were just friends, there was nothing wrong with joking around alone in his office. But if she saw them as something more…
They walked side by side back to dinner, not speaking. It was dark out with the only light coming from the warm glow of the castle. Harry’s mind whirred, trying to think of the perfect flirty-but-respectful comment to say to Ginny. He really wanted to turn to her and tell her to dump Dean so they could go back to the locker room and do all the naughty things he’d been envisioning, but figured that fell firmly in the “disrespectful” category. Ginny had her arms crossed, probably from the cold, and looked slightly chastened.
‘By the way, did you give that book to Hermione?’ she said, breaking the silence just as they started up the steps to the heavy oak doors.
That was the last thing Harry wanted to talk about. ‘Yeah, of course,’ he said, holding the door open as she stepped inside.
‘Thanks,’ she said. She stopped in the middle of the entrance hall, between the staircase that led back to Gryffindor Tower and doors to the Great Hall. ‘You know, I actually might just head up to bed.’
‘Ginny Weasley, not eating?’ he teased.
She grinned and looked away. ‘Yeah, yeah. First time for everything.’
Harry watched as she waved goodbye and sped up the stairs, taking two at a time. He wished he could go up with her to prolong their conversation, but his stomach growled in protest. As he walked into the Great Hall, he couldn’t even muster up a great feeling of guilt at the sight of Dean’s confused face, clearly expecting his girlfriend to appear.
That night, there was no question as to what Harry had to do. He was already rock hard when he stepped underneath the stream of the shower. The brush of his hand over his erection was such a sweet relief that he nearly finished on the spot. He pressed his forehead to the shower wall, one hand above him curling on the tiles while the other pumped away, the thought of Ginny in front of him burning in his mind.
The next morning, Harry’s stomach nearly dropped at the sight of Ginny and Hermione sitting together in the common room. He halted at the bottom of the staircase leading from the boys’ dorms until Hermione spotted him and waved him over.
Harry walked up to them like he was headed to the gallows. Surely the jig was up. They were waiting to ambush him and demand to know the whereabouts of Lord Wandsworth. Harry pictured Hermione ripping open his bag as Ginny pinned him down… well, that wasn’t such a bad thought.
‘Ready for breakfast?’ Hermione said. Harry nodded, the tension leaving his body at once.
They were halfway out the portrait hole when Hermione froze in terror. ‘I forgot to add the influence the discovery of Hesper’s Rule had on conjuring charms for our Transfiguration essay!’
‘That seems really important,’ Harry said seriously. ‘McGonagall was going on about it last lesson.’
‘You don’t have Transfiguration ‘til after lunch!’ Ginny said, pulling her through the doorway so other students could go past. ‘There’s plenty of time to edit. C’mon, let’s go to breakfast.’
Hermione looked between Harry and Ginny, biting her lip. ‘No, you’re right, Harry. I should go back now before I forget.’ Before either of them could open their mouths, she disappeared into the throng of people going through the Fat Lady.
‘Shall we go?’ Harry said to Ginny, who was looking at the spot Hermione had occupied five seconds ago. Even after months of watching Ginny, he couldn’t always decipher the expression on her face. Nevertheless, she was as chatty as usual as they walked down to breakfast, laughing about Slytherin’s pitiful performance against Ravenclaw at their match on Saturday.
‘Did you see Urquhart’s face when he realised that the snitch hit Harper’s eye and he didn’t even notice?’
‘That was hilarious,’ Harry said. ‘I think just knocking him out with a bludger would’ve been kinder.’ He was especially interested in Malfoy’s conspicuous absence from the match for reasons unrelated to the game itself, but the trouble it was causing the Slytherin team was icing on the cake.
‘Malfoy doesn’t give a fuck about Quidditch, it seems like,’ Ginny said, reaching to pull the doors of the Great Hall open before Harry could do it for her. ‘Better for us.’
‘You know I could beat Malfoy any day of the week,’ Harry told her as they sat down next to a gaggle of excitable third years.
They were on the same side of the bench, so Ginny’s arm brushed against his as she reached for the toast and marmalade. ‘So cocky, Potter,’ she said, grinning.
‘It’s not cocky if it’s true,’ he said, relishing in the feeling of joking around with her while several parts of their extremities touched.
She crunched on her toast. ‘Guess we’ll have to see if you pull out another spectacular performance against Hufflepuff next month. I already know I will, so.’
‘Oh, do you?’
‘Has no one told you? I’m the best on the team.’
They were facing each other, toast half-eaten on the plate, matching grins on their faces, eyes sparkling. Was it possible that they were the only two people in the universe? It felt that way.
‘What’re you two talking about?’ Ron said, plopping down across from them and promptly taking a bite out of a piece of bacon. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Ron’s voice. He turned guiltily to face his best mate.
‘The Hufflepuff match,’ Ginny said, shifting to face Ron instead.
Ron and Ginny continued to talk about strategies to use against Hufflepuff, but Harry’s mind was already fogged over. He couldn’t help but think of another scene in Seducing Lord Wandsworth that he continued to flip back to every night.
‘I love you, Genevieve. Ardently. I think I may have loved you for a long time now,’ Jasper whispered. His hair was messy from where she had run her fingers and his lips were kissed pink. He had never looked more gorgeous to her.
‘Me as well, my lord.’ Genevieve knew it was wrong, that they weren’t married or even engaged yet, but she couldn’t resist. It wasn’t possible to wait a moment longer now that she knew Jasper loved her.
He moved even closer, if it was possible, and grasped her hips. Her breath hitched in her throat.
‘I would never compromise your honor if I did not intend to marry you at once,’ Jasper breathed. ‘Please, my love, show me the body that I have spent a fortnight dreaming of.’
A bolt of desire coursed through her body. ‘You must help me with my stays,’ she said.
His long fingers pulled at the ribbons threaded through the back of her dress. The top of gown fell from her shoulders and his thumbs coasted reverently over the swell of her bosom. As her dress crumpled to the ground, he followed its path with his tongue, kissing her soft skin.
That was the feeling that she had spent her whole life chasing. The feeling of love.
~
It seemed like half of Hogwarts was in the courtyard, not that it was particularly warm out. But the sun was shining for the first time in months, so he and Hermione braved the wind while they talked about Snape’s latest tirade in DADA.
As their free period wound down, Hermione checked her watch. ‘By the way, did Ginny tell you to give me a book?’ she asked, looking up from her wrist and fixing her gaze firmly on the potted bush on the other side of the courtyard.
‘Numerology for Numbskulls by Ben Dover?’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’
Harry turned to her. ‘You know, Hermione, I never really took you for the type.’
She groaned and threw her hands up. ‘Oh, alright. Like you can judge! What have you been doing with it for a week?’
He ignored that. ‘Did no one really expect me to even open it?’ he said, exasperated. ‘I mean, I’ve opened books before.’
‘I’ve not seen much evidence of it,’ she said sniffily.
Harry rolled his eyes. ‘Let me just give it to you later and we never have to speak about it again, alright?’
‘Alright,’ Hermione agreed. Then she paused. ‘Is it… soiled?’
Harry flushed. ‘No!’ he cried. ‘Christ, Hermione.’ He had been very careful to aim his release away from the delicate pages.
‘I don’t know!’ she said, avoiding his eye. ‘It’s quite… graphic.’
Harry scoffed. ‘Well it’s your porn, Hermione, not mine.’
‘It’s not porn!’ she said shrilly. Several people turned their heads towards them, looking interested. Hermione dropped her voice. ‘It’s not porn, it’s erotic literature, and—’
‘Same difference,’ Harry said, waving his hand. Hermione crossed her arms and huffed. ‘I’ll give you back your pornography, Hermione, as long as you don’t mention this to Ginny.’
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why don’t you want me to mention this to Ginny?’
‘Because,’ Harry said airily, now avoiding Hermione’s gaze. ‘I don’t want to embarrass her.’
‘Ginny’s not really the type to get embarrassed,’ Hermione said suspiciously. Part of Harry groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed was Hermione nosing around his feelings for Ginny. The other part of him was very interested in what she meant by that.
‘Okay, fine. Let’s involve everyone. Let’s tell Ron! I think he’s over there,’ he pointed to the corner of the courtyard, where Lavender and Ron were reenacting what looked like a vampiric attack.
‘Fine! Fine,’ Hermioned grumbled, shooting the couple a look of disgust. ‘Don’t say anything to Ron, and I won’t say anything to Ginny.’
Invoking Ron was a low blow, but it was worth it. Harry stuck out his hand for Hermione to shake. ‘All good?’
‘I’m not shaking your hand after all that,’ Hermione said, arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he swung his arm away. ‘Is that how it’s going to be?’
‘Guess so,’ Hermione said, picking up her bookbag.
‘Guess so,’ Harry parroted as he followed her out of the courtyard.
~
When Harry told Ginny this story years later, while they were wrapped in blankets after a particularly energetic bout of sex, she laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bed.
After a few minutes, she recovered and resumed her position lying on Harry’s chest so he could run his fingers through her hair. ‘To be fair, I’ve never seen you read a book willingly,’ she said.
‘Hey,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’ll have you know I’m very well read.’
‘There’s not a Quidditch annual that you haven't perused,’ Ginny deadpanned. She clambered up slightly and kissed him affectionately. Harry deepened the kiss and gripped her hair tightly until she pulled away, breathing heavily.
‘What was your favourite part?’ she asked, their lips centimetres apart.
‘The carriage scene.’
She gasped slightly, her mouth curving into a smile. ‘Mine too.’
Wordlessly, Harry flipped her over and sank beneath the covers.