Come On Harry

Chapter 1: The Black Dress

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, blushing. "Even wizards have sex." He shifted around in his bed uncomfortably, unsure of how his best friend would react to his confession. He couldn't tell from here, since Harry's face was covered by the shadow of the bed curtains. Through the darkness, Ron could only make out two small glints where Harry's eyes should've been. They didn't seem to be focused.

"I know that," Harry replied icily, making sure to lower his voice so that none of the other boys in their dormitory would hear. "I just didn't expect those wizards to be you and Hermione."

Ron wiggled his toes beneath the blanket. "It's just sex. It doesn't mean anything." Harry didn't answer. "You can't tell me you didn't suspect it, though," he pointed out, his confidence growing. Through the apparent embarrassment, Ron couldn't help but be a little proud of what he'd done. After all, he'd done it before Harry had. He had to be proud of that.

Harry sighed. "So you and Hermione aren't dating? Just shagging?" Ron nodded. I don't know which is worse, Harry thought to himself. He pulled the robes off his back and carelessly threw them onto the floor. Tugging at the blanket covers, he turned to face the wall, unsure of how he'd be able to sleep with the image Ron had just given him in his head.

Ron seemed to drift off quite easily, however. Within two minutes, Harry could hear his best friend's soft snores. When had this happened between Ron and Hermione? And HOW? Hermione was such a prude... that's what Harry had thought, anyway. He tried not to imagine them desperately clinging to each other, both stark naked and smelling of sex. The more he thought about it, the more disgusted he became. And the more disgusted he became, the more he thought about it.

It seemed a century until the sun rose and light came poking out from behind the curtains, creating a bright line across Harry's face, which almost seemed to burn. The dark haired boy decided that he could finally get out of bed after his near-sleepless night. He ducked to pick up his wrinkled robes from the floor and then throw them on. Not bothering to wake Ron, Harry walked out of the dormitory quickly.

He crept into the Gryffindor common room and found that it was much better lit than his dormitory was. His eyes tried to adjust to the light and he saw Hermione biting her nails intensely while engrossed in Advanced Charms for what had to be the fifteenth time. She'd slung her finely shaped legs over the arm of the chair, and her neck was bent over her chest as she read voraciously. Harry continued towards the portrait hole, trying not to make any noise, but she heard his breathing and flung her head up, smiling nervously.

"Good morning, Harry," she said, standing up immediately, the large textbook still in her slightly trembling hands. "I heard, er...that you heard." Dropping the book onto the table in front of her, she laid her hands on her curved hips, in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

He drew a hand through his hair. "Huh? How? Ron just told me last night."

"Well...he told me that he was going to tell you," she clarified as she stared down at her foot and ground it into the floor. "It's alright, right? I mean - "

"Hermione, I love you," was Harry's quickly stated response.

She jerked her head upwards, her gaze now focused on Harry's bright green eyes. "What?"

"I mean, I love you as a friend. And I love Ron as a friend. I respect anything that you two have going on..." He paused, and a look of relief came over Hermione's face. "Just, please, be careful," he added finally.

She stepped forward. "I am! Do you really think I wouldn't be?"

Shaking his head, he said in a nastier tone than was necessary, "I don't know, Hermione. There's apparently a lot I don't know about you." He looked a littler paler than usual, and he felt as if he were going to be sick.

She tried to grab his arm, but he turned and started walking away towards the portrait hole. "Don't say that, Harry."

He stopped after a few steps. "Don't mind me," he reassured her in a warmer voice, his back still turned. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night." He slumped out of the portrait hole, forgetting to straighten out his robes.

Wandering around the hall, Harry tried not to think about his two best friends in bed together. He wasn't exactly sure why it bothered him so much. It just did. It was wrong. It was gross. It was -

"Taking an early morning stroll, Potter?"

Harry turned around to see Severus Snape glaring down at him. "I have the right to be awake, don't I?" Harry stated rather than asked. It was Harry's seventh year with Snape, and the professor still like to punish Harry every chance he got.

"I thought I told you to call me Sir," Snape hissed. "Now if you'll just move your tragic arse out of my way, I'd like to get to my classroom." Harry didn't move, so Snape strayed from his straight line path to move past the young boy. He muttered something about Gryffindor losing house points before leaving, but Harry was too busy thinking about Ron and Hermione to listen.

Harry headed down towards the library in order to think in peace. He was sure no one would be there yet; it was too early. Count on Snape to be the only one up, he thought and snickered to himself. When he passed by a mirror, he stopped and tried to fix his hair. Suddenly realizing how dilapidated he appeared, Harry promised himself to look in a mirror before ever leaving his dormitory again.

In the library, Harry threw his book onto a table and sat down. The lights were dim so it was difficult to concentrate on the miniscule words which filled his unnecessarily enormous History of Magic textbook. He pretended to read for several minutes before he heard someone approaching.

He looked up and saw an attractive tall young woman with red hair. It was Ginny Weasley. Ginny had become what Harry had feared since his second year: hot as hell. She'd grown quite a bit over the summer of her fifth year and could now be compared to one of the models in the magazines Ron kept under his bed. Oh, how Ron would kill me if he could read my thoughts... Ginny walked past Harry to the table behind his and sat down briefly.

Harry tapped his quill against the side of the table repeatedly and felt relieved when Ginny finally lifted her head and noticed him sitting there. "Oh, Harry. What are you doing up so early? I thought you liked to sleep in."

"Couldn't sleep at all, actually," he answered truthfully, once again remembering his conversation with Ron the night before. He wondered what Ginny would say if she knew.

"Oh, that's right," Ginny said after reading Harry's lost expression. "You heard, didn't you?"

Harry looked up, astounded. "Huh?"

Ginny picked up her purple book bag from the other table and sat down in front of Harry. The bag had yellow polka dots on it, and Harry couldn't help but imagine Mrs. Weasley giving it to Ginny for her birthday, or some other special occasion. She placed her books down soundlessly, and without expression, said, "About Ron and Hermione."

"Oh, that, yeah." He paused and looked up at her in disbelief. "You know?"

Ginny sat down and crossed her long legs. "In case you have noticed, Hermione and I have been very good friends for quite some time now. I was one of the first people she told. That isn't so shocking, is it?"

The expression on Harry's face did not change.

"Look, they just didn't want to hurt you, Harry. They weren't sure, you know...if it would bother you. To be perfectly candid, Ron was under the impression that you might actually like Hermione, and he didn't want to see you hurt. Hermione was fairly sure that you didn't like her that way, so she convinced Ron to finally tell you.

"I don't see what the big deal is, though. It's not as if they're dating. So really it doesn't mean anything, except that my brother is a horny teenage boy, which really isn't all that surprising. So even if you did like Hermione, which I'm also fairly certain that you don't, this whole situation shouldn't be a problem.

"You look pretty upset by all this, Harry. But it would have been worse if they kept it from you. You would have found out sooner or later. So from Ron was really the best way. They are both your best friends, and they care about you a lot."

Throwing down his quill, Harry responded, "Thanks for the analysis. How long exactly has this been going on between them?" In the middle of his question, Harry suddenly noticed that Ginny was a wearing a nightgown - a very revealing one.

"Oh, it's been a few months, I'd say." Harry gaped. "But don't worry about it. I only found out a couple of weeks ago." She opened one of her books to the middle and started to flip through. "Seems my brother is more wanted than I thought. If only he'd shut up about being captain already."

Harry could feel the colour draining from his face. A few months and he hadn't even noticed? What a fool he'd been. "I can't believe it," he whispered. So that's what Hermione had been doing at the Burrow all summer. He knew he'd been missing out, but he hadn't realized he'd been missing out that much.

"Hm?" Ginny asked, looking up from her slightly smaller book. She was now taking notes on a wrinkled piece of parchment.

"Nevermind. Why aren't you in robes, Ginny?" In his mind, Harry slowly started to trace her carved eyes and billowing lashes. His eyes hungrily outlined her soft nose and full lips, and then went down her perfectly curved neck, long as it was. Placed casually around her neck was a sparkling silver necklace, and Harry at once wondered how she could have afforded it. Although he'd never seen the necklace before, it looked as though it had been there since the beginning of time. Her shoulders moved up and down with her breath and back and forth with her scribbling quill. When his eyes got down to her chest, he stopped. She's Ron's little sister. You can't do that... But then he looked again. She had definitely grown over the summer.

Ginny glanced up a second time and put her quill down when she noticed that Harry was staring at her. "I couldn't sleep, either," she said in a low voice.

She was waiting for him to ask her why, but Harry found himself starting to imagine reaching out and touching Ginny's shoulder gently.

"I may as well be talking to a wall," she sighed.

"Sorry!" Harry spat. "I'm thinking about so many things, you know."

She shook her head. "I suppose. In our early years at Hogwarts, you down right ignored me. Now every time I see you, you stare at me, yet you won't open your mouth. Sometimes I find myself wondering if you become a mute around me. Is there an on and off switch I don't know about? Or perhaps you're just incapable of carrying on a conversation with me."

"Well, I'm talking now."

"It's an improvement." She put her quill down and slammed her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook shut. "While we're on the subject of Ron and Hermione, did it surprise you? I was certainly surprised, it being Hermione and all. Ron, I know already, is a perverted git, but Hermione I thought would barely let anyone touch her. I wonder what changed."

Harry laughed a bit and continued to tap his quill incessantly against the table. "I was having the same thoughts, actually. But she's eighteen now. Maybe she just realized it was her time."

Ginny smiled to herself. "You think eighteen is the right age?"

He considered this for a moment, and said, "I don't think there is a right age. It's different for everyone." His knees bounced up and down nervously as he averted his eyes from Ginny's face.

"And what was your right age?" she asked him, clearly curious but not too concerned at the same time.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know yet."

She covered her mouth with her left hand. "You're still a virgin, Harry?"

Without emotion, he asked, "This surprises you?"

Laughing lightly, she said, "I suppose I would've been surprised either way."

He let out a mock sigh. "Lose-lose situation then."

"And what exactly are you losing?" she said in a low voice, laying her finely shaped arms on the table in front of her and staring at him deeply from her outlined eyes.

He leaned in closely and stated, "Not my virginity, that's for sure."

Harry spent many hours there, alone with Ginny, pretending to read his book, while listening to the soft scratch of her quill. Slowly the library had filled up with the normal chatter of Hogwarts students, and he finally felt himself relaxing in the presence of the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Harry!" He lifted his head to see Ron headed his way. "Bloody hell, Harry, way to scare us. If I'd known you were in the library studying with Ginny, I wouldn't have listened to Hermione and gotten out of bed so early to look for you. Paranoid wench." Harry tried to smile but couldn't find the right muscles. "Wait," Ron stammered, looking from his best friend to his younger sister. "You two were only studying, right?"

"Of course, Ron," Harry stated quite plainly, then teased, "I'm not you."

"Good." Ron stared at his sister's face, searching for any signs of guilt. There appeared to be none. This temporarily satisfied Ron, who'd been worried ever since the beginning of the previous year when boys had started to take notice of Ginny. "Want to go to breakfast?" he asked Harry, fixing his robes which were infinitely too short for him.

Taking a long look at Ginny, then switching his gaze towards his best friend, Harry breathed slowly. "Sure. Where's Hermione?" he asked, suddenly realizing her absence.

"She must be looking for you. I'm surprised she didn't come here first, really." Ron suddenly looked confused. "Oh well, I'm hungry." He stalked out of the library, expecting Harry to follow him, but instead Harry politely waited for Ginny to pack up her things before exiting.

"Ron's awfully happy," Ginny mused, as she and Harry walked towards the Great Hall, side by side. Harry felt a knot in his stomach. "Hermione is too."

Scowling without realizing it, he said, "They make me envious, really."

Ginny looked up at him with a certain stunned look. "Really? I didn't think you were."

He gulped, replying, "Me neither." He suddenly changed his gaze from his feet to Ginny's red hair, hoping she wouldn't catch his wandering eyes.

They had reached the Great Hall when Ginny took a slight left. "Bye, Harry," she called out sweetly.

He stopped so suddenly he felt sick. The desire to call her back to his side was itching into his brain, but instead he just asked, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I've got to change," she responded pragmatically, holding up the end of her nightgown.

He nodded after a few seconds, not being able to think of an argument for her to stay beside him. "I guess I'll see you at Quidditch practice then."

Ginny left immediately, so Harry stepped grudgingly into the Great Hall. He sat beside Ron, who had conveniently placed himself across from Hermione. "Glad to hear you were at the library, Harry," Hermione chatted animatedly. "A bit of extra studying never hurt anyone." She gave Ron a sharp look, but the redhead was too involved in a pumpkin-flavoured pancake to notice it.

Ron raised his hands suddenly and interjected, "Practice tonight, Harry. Don't forget."

"I won't," he answered lightly.

"Don't be late, then."

"I won't," Harry urged, picking up a roll and tearing it in two.

Ron looked up from his pancake skeptically. "You always say that and then you're always late."

"Can't help it," the other boy mumbled while he ate the roll.

"What on earth could possibly be more bloody important than Quidditch? I really don't understand you, Harry. You're the star player, yet you're also the star slacker."

Harry glared into his plate. "It's not like I don't show up."

Hermione threw her legs across the bench and stood up quickly. "Well, I'm off. I want to get a bit of studying in before Potions," she stated before slinging her bag over her shoulder and anxiously walking out.

"I'll try to be better about being on time from now on, Ron," Harry said slowly once Hermione had left.

Ron smiled. "Thanks, Harry. Sorry I yelled at you, didn't mean to be so harsh. You're just such a bloody fantastic Seeker. I want to see you go professional some day." Harry didn't respond; his neck seemed to be stuck in a position bent painfully forwards, and he was picking up his food quickly but not eating a thing. "Harry, honestly, what's wrong? You know I would ask unless it looked like there was something really bloody wrong."

Without moving, Harry responded. "That's... true. But I honestly don't know what's wrong. It's not about you and Hermione, although I must admit that it's a little odd and I really don't want to be thinking about it."

"Look, Harry, we're not dating. If you like Hermione, you can have her and we'll just pretend like it never happened with me. She probably likes you anyway, and it just seems to me that - "

"I don't like her, Ron. Don't worry," Harry put it, finally raising his head.

Ron blushed again. "I'm sorry I told you."

"No, I'm glad you told me. I wish you'd told me a little sooner, in fact. I feel a little left out, knowing that even Ginny knew before me."

Ron's face turned red. "SHE KNOWS?" he yelled. "Oh, bloody sodding hell, I'm going to kill Hermione."

A bubble rose in Harry's stomach and he suddenly started to laugh hysterically, convulsing in odd and enjoyable movements. It felt so good, he realized, just to release everything. His laughter eased Ron as well, who gleefully joined him in the noise making.

Much to Harry's dismay, he had Potions with the Slytherins this year. Potions class was already a painful enough experience with Snape there to pick on him, but now there was Draco Malfoy irritating him, too. The pair of them was bad news. Harry dreaded Potions.

As he and Ron walked to the dungeons and into Snape's dark classroom, they took a seat next to Hermione in the middle of the room. Snape wasn't in class yet, but Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy in the back, flirting shamelessly with Pansy Parkinson.

Apparently, Malfoy couldn't help but notice Harry, either. "Potter, you're looking extraordinarily ravishing today," he yelled from across the room. Pansy laughed and put a tender hand on Malfoy's inner thigh. He ignored it, running a hand gracefully through his blonde hair.

Harry, making a point not to fix the state of his disheveled hair and robes, looked back at Malfoy nonchalantly. "Glad to hear you like it," he said and turned back around to the front of the classroom. Pansy laughed again, but this time Malfoy shot her a glare.

Ron complimented his best friend on the comeback, and Harry gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. All seemed to be going well until Snape entered the classroom, bringing with him an irrevocably dark and gloomy feeling.

In a clearly agitated manner, Snape stood in front of the classroom, before his cherry-coloured desk, and leaned against it routinely. Placing his hands back to lean on the wood, he began to speak impassively. "I have been asked to announce to you that the sixth and seventh years will end both semesters with dueling challenges. Only one boy and one girl from each house of each of these two years will be able to participate. Students will be nominating and electing. So choose...wisely."

The professor paused to sigh and actively ignore Hermione's raised hand. Ron poked Harry in the side and whispered, "I'll nominate you, Harry." Harry nodded back hesitantly.

"...the winning house will receive a phenomenal amount of house points," Snape finished dully. Returning to the back of his desk, he resumed the usual routine and started the lesson.

After two hours of cutting up ginger roots and drying nettles, Harry felt completely drained and didn't at all feel up to going to any of his other classes. Ron agreed that Professor Binns wouldn't miss him, so Harry sneaked back to Gryffindor tower to take a nap.

After climbing through the portrait hole into the common room, he almost fell over because he caught sight of Ginny in front of a mirror fixing her already perfect hair. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that she a wearing more makeup than he'd ever seen on her face, and he could even smell a faint vanilla perfume coming from her side of the room. She was wearing a stunning black dress, and Harry couldn't help but notice what long legs she had. "Ginny..." was all he could manage.

She spun around, frightened out of her mind. When she was able to identify him, her tensed up eyebrows relaxed. "Oh... Harry. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same." He suddenly wondered why she was there and what exactly she was doing.

"I was about to leave actually," she said casually, sticking her wand in her stockings. Harry couldn't help his rude gawking as she pinched forward at the waist to secure her wand. "There you go with the staring again, Harry," she accused, catching his eyes. "Just what are you looking at? The runs in my stockings?"

Harry turned bright red. "Nuh - no. Sorry. Where are you going?" he asked as a plea to change the topic.

She leaned back up. "Er...class." She paused. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just didn't sleep at all last night. I'm in great need of a nap, honestly. Promise you won't tell," he said, scratching the back of his neck as casually as he could manage.

"No, I think I'll go straight to Dumbledore right now and tell him," she joked, smiling. "But you too. Please don't tell Ron or Hermione, or anyone, really, that you saw me here. Like this." She suddenly approached him, and the smell of vanilla filled his lungs.

"Don't worry, I won't." She really did look like a model, Harry decided.

"Promise?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly.

"Yeah. 'Course." She grinned wildly and gave him a huge hug, which he wasn't sure he deserved but accepted without question. The closeness of her body had quite an impact on him, and he seemed unable to move, even after she had thanked him and left the common room excitedly.

After a few minutes, he trotted up to his dormitory, feeling a little sicker as he lay down on his bed. He wondered where Ginny was going. He suddenly wished he'd followed her, but knew that it would be too rude. Instead he gave the thought to his imagination...

He was waiting in the dim light of the Three Broomsticks, with a menu in his suddenly confident hands. Within seconds, Ginny appeared, wearing the same slimming black dress. Her face was glimmering and Harry couldn't but gasp. "You look incredible," he said, standing up to give her a light kiss on the mouth. He could smell the vanilla emanating from her long fair neck.

"Harry! Harry!" He sprung up, only to find Neville Longbottom shouting in his ear.

"Oh, it's you," Harry answered, suddenly relaxed as he laid his head back down onto a pillow.

Neville hovered over the bed, and his growth spurt over the past couple months was suddenly more apparent. "Why weren't you in History of Magic?"

"I was taking a nap. Why? Did Professor Binns notice?"

"No," Neville answered. "You know he never takes attendance."

"That's true," the other boy replied, stretching out his arms. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he felt a bit of energy in him. All he could think about was Ginny in that black dress. What was wrong with him? Did he want his best friend to slaughter him?

"Hermione was worried about you, is all," Neville continued.

Harry sat up. "I see."

"So are you coming to Divination?" he asked, hopefully.

"Yeah," Harry responded after thinking about it. "I think I will." He stood up, put on his robes, and walked out with Neville trailing behind him.

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