What Men Really Want in Bed

Notes: Beta'd by the effervescent pumpkinpasty. Many thanks to the writers of the August 2007 issue of UK Cosmo. Dedicated to Harry's mullet. <3

What Men Really Want in Bed

As he stared up at the top of his four poster, it took Harry a second to work out where he was, the morning after.

He rolled over, and the sunlight pouring through the window dazzled him. As his eyes grew accustomed to the both strange and familiar circular room, Harry noticed that there was another person in there with him: sitting on Neville's bed, idly turning the pages of a magazine, was Ginny.

He groped around on his bedside table for his glasses and put them on.

She glanced up from her magazine. 'So you're up.'

'Morning,' he croaked.

'It's the afternoon,' she said, eyes travelling over his face. 'How are you feeling?'

'All right.' He flopped back onto the bed and looked up again at the canopy stretching over him. His hand travelled down to his ribs and he winced as his fingers touched the place where Voldemort had hit him with the killing curse. 'How long have I been asleep?'

'About twelve hours.'

He didn't reply. After a minute, he heard rustlings; slowly rolling himself over, he saw that she'd leaned back on Neville's pillows, the magazine propped up against her knees.

He wondered where everyone else was. Visions of a Gryffindor common room bursting with students and their families swam before his eyes, and he felt faintly queasy. 'What are you reading?' he asked.

'Amortentia,' she said without looking up. 'It's a women's monthly magazine.' She turned a page. 'Oh, look - "My boyfriend turned out to be a Death Eater". Someone got paid five galleons for writing this crap.'

'People submit their own stories?'

'Of course, those are the best bits, apart from the problem pages ...' She turned another page. 'Here we go: "My boyfriend throws the M-word around all the time. Both my parents are Muggle-born, and it offends them. He says he still loves me, though. Should I ditch him?"'

'What do they say?'

'"Your boyfriend may simply be throwing around trendy ideas in an effort to impress new friends, but there are certainly some serious issues here. If he doesn't curb his tongue after a request from you, then perhaps it's time to chuck him back where he came from."'

Harry considered this. 'Good advice.'

Ginny snorted derisively. 'It's the - oh, look, it gets worse. "Is he being controlled by organs lower down than his brain, or the Imperius Curse?" ... Wow, someone's got low self-esteem ... "The Imperius Curse is very easy to fall under, but so are natural womanly charms ... be on the watch for strange behaviour ..." Why people didn't think Death Eaters didn't have anything better to do than curse people into trying to get into each other's -'

'How did it stay that anti-Voldemort?' asked Harry, hand slowly travelling under the covers down the side of his body, checking if it was all right to sit up. T-shirt and yesterday's underwear: he was safe. Sort of.

'Oh, this is an old issue,' said Ginny, checking the front. 'Yeah, August.'

'So did it get stopped, or -?'

'The Ministry took over, gradually,' she said, turning pages again. 'I think it was around November that it started having features like "Ten Ways To Check If Your Man Is A Muggle", and that's when Lavender cancelled her subscription.'

Harry eased himself into a sitting position, trying not to wince. 'Why is it in here?'

The corner of her mouth twitched. 'Maybe there's something Seamus isn't telling us.'

'What?'

She rolled her eyes. 'They're Lavender's, I told you. She's been keeping Seamus company a lot this last year.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'Right.' He fell back onto the bed, and after a pause, rolled over slightly to face her. 'Poor Neville.'

'Hmm? Oh, yeah - yeah, he slept on the sofa some nights; it drove him mad ... "Thirty-three Ways To Spice Up Your Sex Life" - maybe that's why this is in here -'

'You get that in these magazines?' asked Harry, nose wrinkled in indignation, but she didn't hear him.

'"Blindfold him and tie him to a chair", how very exciting ... Handcuffs -' She snorted with laughter. 'What hideous models - oh, listen to this -' She started to giggle. '"Me and Steve tried edible body potions, and they completely revolutionised our lives -"' She broke off, laughing so hard she couldn't continue, and he rolled his eyes but didn't say anything as he watched her attempt to get a grip on herself.

Eventually, her fit of hysterics subsided. '"Some couples find -"'

He groaned.

'"Some couples find cutting each other's hair to be a stimulating act of foreplay -"' Her eyes flicked to his shoulder-length mop and suddenly, she stopped laughing; blushing slightly, she turned a page. She quickly regained her composure. 'Aha! Horoscopes!'

'No, Ginny,' he mumbled. 'No more ...'

'Oh, good, we're both Leos, that makes it easier: "make a date with your man on the 7^th of September and don't be afraid to discuss your most outrageous hopes and dreams, because on the 30^th of October they could come true ..." What was I doing on the 30^th of October? Probably in detention ...'

'Ginny ...'

'"For your wizard: be prepared for a lifestyle change next year, you'll be amazed at the dramatic changes he's going to make -"'

'It does not say that -'

'It does!'

'Give it here -' He sat straight up and lunged across the gap between them for it, but, laughing, she wriggled back out of his reach; almost falling out of bed, he managed to whip it out of her grasp. 'Right,' he said, settling back into his tangled sheets, 'we'll see what's really in this thing ...'

She crossed her arms. 'Unsupervised reading is only going to upset you.'

'We'll see about that,' said Harry. 'What - "Your Health Problems"? "It really hurts me when men -" Oh - oh, gross! That's disgusting!'

'Told you so,' said Ginny smugly as he rifled through pages in a frantic attempt to blot out what he'd just seen. 'I knew talk about girly bits would only traumatise you.'

He'd found something to distract himself with. 'Are they joking? "Top Tips: Is He A Death Eater? How To Find Out ..."'

Ginny rolled her eyes and, with a dramatic flourish, fell back onto Neville's bed.

'"If you're getting intimate, try and check his forearms ..." if you're getting 'intimate' with a Death Eater, it's probably a bit too late ... "An obsession with wearing long sleeves might be a danger sign, but be careful not to offend him, he may just be hiding a skin complaint ... watch out for how he refers to You-Know-Who ..." This is stupid, this is just a Dos and Don'ts list for Death Eaters ...'

He turned a page. '"What Men Really Want In Bed" - how do they know?'

'Oh, all right, give it back, you've had your fun -'

'No, no, I want to know what I really want in bed -' He waved it out of her grasp as she crawled forwards on Neville's bed and leaned out to grab it; as her knees hit the four-poster's corner, the mattress sagged and she started to slip off. Jumping up onto her feet, she leaned over him, trying to grab the magazine as he scrambled backwards like a crab and hoped the sheet wouldn't fall off. 'I think you'll find,' she said, 'that that is an article about men, Harry Potter, and you are just a silly little boy -'

'Actually,' he said, wriggling back towards the wall as she leapt onto the bed, 'I think you'll find I'm the man with the lightning scar, nowadays -'

She stretched up to where he was holding the magazine above his head, and started to scrabble at his hands, so he did what he later reasoned to be the only thing that had made sense, and grabbed her wrists.

They froze.

He was suddenly aware that he was breathing heavily, as was she; he tried not to watch her chest rise and fall, but it was difficult when he was holding her arms up above her head as she kneeled between his legs.

His eyes dropped to her lips, full and slightly parted. This was the first time they'd touched each other since last summer, in her bedroom ... should he kiss her? He wanted to - God, did he want to - this was, to be honest, an opportunity presented to him on a silver platter ... he'd never forgive himself if he didn't ... but he probably hadn't brushed his teeth for about forty-eight hours -

One of her hands wriggled within his grip and he moved to clasp it, but too late: she had somehow grabbed the magazine out of the hand that had grasped her wrist. His hands slipped, his grip loosened and before he knew it she'd whipped both the magazine and herself out of his hands and halfway across the room.

Flinging herself back onto Neville's bed with a triumphant laugh, she settled herself back on the pillows, face flushed. 'Back with your rightful owner,' she said, seemingly to the magazine. 'Now: "Stay Sexy And Safe On The Streets ..."'

Bemused, Harry leaned back on his pillows. Through the window, he could see the sun setting.

'"If your duelling is poor, have your wand ready to sound an alarm ..."' She let out another snort of laughter. '"Although tricky, the Patronus charm really is worth learning: not only is it useful, but it's also one of the more attractive spells ... It's not all jokes: 'Decoy Detonators' will buy you time to escape - for more information on the dynamic duo behind the invention, see our feature on ... page ..."'

Another silence filled the room. She dropped the Amortentia onto the bed, her expression fierce, and everything the glossy magazine had protected them from seemed to come rushing into the space between them: the weeks to come, the last year, and an attempt to fold four crumpled limbs into a niche in the wall to stop them from being blown apart.

'Harry,' Ginny said, breaking the silence, and looking up to meet her steady gaze, he realised she was now ready to talk. 'Harry ... last night ...'

Her face burned with questions, and Harry wondered which one she was going to go for first. He didn't know how anyone could say "Did you really die last night?" without laughing, but if someone could get away with it, he mused gloomily, it would probably be Ginny Weasley ...

She didn't say anything. He decided to bite the bullet.

'Ginny, I - yesterday - '

The door banged open, and they both jumped; looking up, Harry saw Ron, Dean and Seamus.

'You're up!' Ron said, grinning, but before he could do anymore, Seamus had raced forwards to pull Harry into a back-slapping hug. 'Harry - yesterday - you were amazing, mate - come on, you need to get downstairs -'

'Right - um -'

'Lee Jordan said to get you up as soon as possible,' said Dean, beaming. 'He's doing an emergency Potterwatch. He wants an interview, pronto.'

'What? I only just woke - shit, Seamus!'

Seamus leapt up and backed off, hands held in the air as if burned. 'Ah, Jesus - didn't mean to hurt you, Harry ...'

Harry winced and rubbed at his ribs. 'No ... it's all right ...'

'Is that where ...' Seamus asked, eyes wide. 'Is that where he hit you? With the Avada Kedavra?'

'Um,' said Harry, looking down. 'Yeah.'

'So, it ...' A heavy silence fell in the room, and Harry was scared to look up. 'It hurts?'

Harry glanced at Ron and Dean, but they were both staring at him as avidly as Seamus. Ginny had reclaimed the abandoned Amortentia, but though it was open on her knees, her eyes weren't moving.

'I - well ... only afterwards,' he managed. 'It only hurt afterwards. When I ... came back.'

There was another bang at the door, and with a cry of, 'Harry!' Neville appeared; a second later, a squeal announced the arrival of Hermione. 'What've we missed?' asked Neville, grinning broadly.

'Only him telling us all about the afterlife -' started Seamus.

'I was not,' said Harry in annoyance, but no one appeared to be listening.

'Oh, Harry,' said Hermione, running forwards to sit on his bed. 'I hope no one's told Lee you're awake, or he'll be up here to drag you out of bed himself -'

'He did, he was just saying that the Avada Kedavra doesn't hurt until you come back -'

Through all the commotion, Harry saw Ginny slip through the crowd and towards the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned and mouthed, 'I'll see you later.' Then, she smiled; a second later, she was gone.

'Seamus, do us all a favour and shut up -'

'I'm just asking him what everyone else is thinking, you cowards -'

Staring at the closed door, Harry couldn't help it. He smiled as well.

- FIN -