Harry Potter and Unexpected Beginnings

Chapter twenty-four

Harry's stomach felt like it was in knots. He had decided the moment he gave Ginny her Christmas present, that tonight would be the night they had waited for. Tonight, he would make love to the girl he knew was his destiny, the girl who had saved him from a life of depression and solitude. Still, he couldn't help the feeling of nervousness. So many things could happen; so many things could go wrong. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he couldn't please her? What if he couldn't wait for her to find her pleasure? He'd heard that sort of thing could happen, and if it happened tonight, he'd be devastated.

The door to Sirius's bedroom was a jar, causing Harry's curiosity to build. He stepped to the opening and peered in, seeing Ginny standing at the foot of the large four-poster bed. He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back to his chest.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked softly, the feel of her and the anticipation of what the night would bring caused his already overactive libido to respond, as he found pressing against her inviting and difficult to resist.

"I was thinking about tonight," she told him, leaning her head back against his shoulder, allowing him to kiss her neck and ear, which he did eagerly.

"What about it?"

"I want it to be here," she told him quietly, turning her face to his, seeing the curiosity etched his handsome features. "We first spent the night together here, and you gave me my necklace here. This room holds some wonderful feelings for us, and I can't imagine any place better for our first time, then in here." Harry thought for a few moments. He had always said their first time would be something special and something wonderful. He wanted it to be magical, and he couldn't agree with her more. Sirius's bedroom was a warm, loving place where they had spent most of their summer nights together. She helped him confront his grief of losing his godfather in this room, they had argued and made up here, this was the first place he had realized he loved her.

"I don't think Sirius would mind," Harry said with a smile. "After all, I suppose it is actually my room now. He left me the house, and since this is the master bedroom..."

"Then where else for the master to take his woman?" Harry chuckled at her overplayed emphasis on the term "master".

"We'll have to wait though," Harry said, hearing Mrs. Weasley calling her from the kitchen.

"For how long?" Ginny sounded disappointed, and frowned at the words she had heard repeatedly over the past months.

"I'll meet you back here, when everyone's asleep," he promised her, turning her in his arms and kissing her lips passionately. Ginny sighed, leaning into his lips and expressing her eagerness with her tongue. Time was of no essence, as usual whenever they were together, until the sound of Mrs. Weasley calling her echoed from the bottom of the stairs. With a reluctant moan, Harry pulled out of her embrace, smiling at the look of disappointment and frustration in her honey brown eyes.

"Until later," he whispered, turning her toward the door. He followed her out into the hallway when Ron came hurrying up the stairs.

"Hey, Harry," he said anxiously. "Come with me. I have to show you something." Harry turned back to Ginny, squeezing her hand and left her to join her mother. The boys went into the room they shared, shutting the door securely behind them. Ron pulled a magazine out from his back pocket, sitting on the bed next to the dark haired young man.

"George dropped this from his cloak when he left," Ron explained. "Look at it." Harry glanced across Ron's shoulder, looking at the picture of a naked couple on the front cover. "Wild Wizard's Wicked Weekend Edition," Ron read, opening the pages and showing him the many magical pictures of young couples engaged in..."They're shagging!" Ron exclaimed.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, echoing his friend's favorite phrase. The two of them looked at the pages in silence for several moments, turning page after page, watching the expressions on the witches and wizards faces.

"I wonder if Hermione would do that?" Ron said pointing to one picture that had caught his attention.

"She'd probably slap you for suggesting it," Harry assured him. "If she didn't bite it off first. I can't imagine this being possible," he continued, pointing at another picture of an unusual position that made the woman look like she was practically standing on her head.

"Look here," Ron told him, turning the page and seeing a particularly interesting picture. "She looks like she's enjoying this. I'll bet I could do this, if Hermione doesn't try and strangle me first." Harry didn't answer, his attention was on a particularly interesting article on the next page.

"A Witch's First Love," it said. Harry pulled the magazine out his friend's hand and began reading about a girl's first experiences at lovemaking. There were charms on how to reduce the pain, suggestions on how to stimulate and heighten her responses and how to ease her into womanhood with memories of pleasure and passion.

"I could have used that," Ron told him, reading over his shoulder.

"You still can," Harry assured him. "Just because you and Hermione shagged once, doesn't mean you can't try and please her the next time." Harry turned and looked at the red haired, red-faced boy next to him. "How many times have you done it?"

"Just once," Ron told him. "We almost did it on the train coming home, but we couldn't find an empty compartment. I can't remember feeling so frustrated in all my life."

"Maybe it's a good thing you didn't do it. If you read enough of this thing, you may have several ideas on how to really make her feel good when you get back together."

"Which is tomorrow afternoon," Ron said with a smile. "I can't wait. I feel like I haven't seen her in months."

"Think you two will...you know? During the holidays I mean?" Ron's blush became a neon sign of embarrassment, lighting the room.

"I hope so." Silence fell between the two, as they continued reading the article, and getting ideas of their own, as they quietly looked at each picture that accompanied the words.

"I wonder why George had this?" Ron asked after a moment. "You don't think he and Katie Bell are doing any of this stuff, do you?"

"If you and Hermione are, what's to stop them?"

"That would mean Fred and Angelina are probably doing it too."

"Hey Ron, what did your dad tell you about those protection spells?" Ron blushed again, remembering the conversation he had with his father the night before.

"He told me of a spell that would work once, or that can be extended for a couple of weeks, depending on the need of it," he reported. "But it was bloody embarrassing. Have you ever had to have that talk with a grown man? Blimey, I can't believe he was telling me all that stuff."

"Do you think the spells work?"

"Beats me. I'm eager to try though."

"But Ron, not to be rude or anything, your parents have a lot of kids. If he knew of the spells, why didn't he use them?" Ron's blush deepened still.

"I asked him that, and he asked me which one of us I would suggest they used it with."

"So how do we check it out, to see if it really works? I mean, I'm willing and all, but what if it doesn't work and we end up in trouble?" Ron was really quiet for a long time, and then took the magazine Harry still held and began flipping through the pages.

"I thought I saw something in the index about protection charms," he told him. Finding the page, he quickly opened it wide so they could both read it. "Here's the one dad told me about," Ron exclaimed, pointing to the list of about five charms, spells and potions. The two of them read it together; the idea of trying them out was extremely intriguing and peeked their interest to great lengths.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be that difficult, providing we remember to use them before anything happens," Ron said. "I don't want to go through another three weeks, like last time. I thought I'd go mental worrying about it."

"Listen, Ron," Harry began softly, closing the book and handing it back to him. "If I'm not here tonight, don't go setting off any kind of alarm, all right?" Ron frowned at his friend.

"What do you mean? Where else would you be?" It was Harry's turn to blush as he stood and paced to the window and looked out.

"Ginny and I were thinking about spending some time together tonight," he said. "We haven't really had much time to be alone, and since we've got the next two weeks, we were thinking about making up for lost time, you know..."

"Bloody hell, Harry! Are you saying you want to shag my sister?" Harry turned, placing his finger up against his lips to hush his friend's loud words.

"You don't have to announce it to the whole house," he scolded.

"I can't believe you're saying this. I am her brother you know, and somehow I don't think it's the sort thing you're supposed to be telling me."

"Ron, you're also my best friend, and I was hoping I could talk to you about this. I mean, you and Hermione have already done this, and maybe you could answer a few questions."

"Yeah, all right, but just try not to say any names. Maybe I won't have images in my head I don't want." The next hour was spent with the two boys discussing concerns, rumors and worries they both had. They found using the magazine a great help for answering questions, although neither of them were exactly willing to try everything that was listed on the pages, they were willing to try out a few. By the time dinner that night was over, Harry didn't feel quite so unsure and uncomfortable. Maybe he'd be able to do this after all, and still hold out for her to find her "climax" as the magazine called it. Somehow he would prove she hadn't made a mistake, and was happy to love him as much as he loved her. Tonight, he would prove to her just how deep that word went.

The house seemed to remain alive with useless chatter and activity, until late in the night. Harry stayed up for quite a while, and then eventually went up to bed. He had hoped that by going upstairs, it would give the rest of the group the idea that it was getting late, but it didn't' seem to have worked. Harry lay awake in his bed, tapping his fingers together and anxiously shifting from one position to another. He was far from tired himself, and anxious to sneak away with Ginny into the room down the hall. Ron had come to bed over an hour ago, and was now softly snoring in the bed next to him. The sounds of voices continued to echo up the stairs, although not as many as before.

Fred and George had returned from seeing their girlfriends shortly before dinner, and George seemed to be distracted looking for something he thought he'd lost at the house. Ron and Harry continued to concentrate on their meals, refusing to acknowledge that they not only knew what he was looking for, but where it was. The twins had retired to bed just after Ron had come upstairs, stopping by long enough to ask if they had found anything that day. Both boys refused to give in, and played dumb, making George wonder if their mother had picked up the magazine and was now in possession of the "smut" as she called it.

Ginny had stopped by to say goodnight to the boys, kissing Harry and whispering in his ear that she would be waiting for him to get her, across the hall. Moody had gone on watch shortly after the table had been cleared of the left over dinner, leaving Lupin and Tonks to discuss a secret rendezvous in hushed tones, that Harry had overheard. They were planning on meeting up in the sitting room, once everyone was asleep, which meant that Harry and Ginny would have to be very quite in order to not be heard from the occupants in the room directly below Sirius's bedroom.

Eventually the house became quiet. Harry pretended to be asleep, when Mrs. Weasley poked her head through the door to check on them. He listened with baited breath as she walked across the hall, then heard her footsteps heading up the stairs to the room she and Mr. Weasley slept in when they were at Grimmauld Place.

It was past midnight before Harry felt confident enough to attempt leaving his bed. He slipped as silent as a mouse, out the door and down the hall to the room he would be spending the night with Ginny in. He still had work to do, and wanted to make certain everything was perfect for when he brought her here.

Twenty minutes later, Harry smiled at the work he'd accomplished, slowly opening the door. He stepped back inside when Lupin and Tonks snuck past on their way downstairs, waiting until he heard the soft click of the sitting room door close behind them. He softly padded his way back down the hall to Ginny's room, and turned the handle. Inside was dark, the slowly deminishing moon, no longer full yet not quite half, shinned in past the opened curtains, bathing the red haired girl in a soft romantic glow. Harry didn't move for several moments, all he could do was stare at her. She was absolutely gorgeous. He had never imagined, seeing her like this would make him fall so much deeper in love with her, and yet it had. With a soft moan and a shift of her slender body beneath the blankets, Harry was brought out of his trance. He realized with a great deal of disappointment that she had fallen asleep. A part of him wanted to wake her up and take her to the room he had prepared to make love to her in, yet another part of him said to let her sleep. There would be other nights.

Reluctantly Harry turned away, opening the door again to leave. Ginny stirred awake, calling out his name gently in the night shadows. Harry turned to see her leaning up on her elbow, her hand rubbing the sleep from her honey brown eyes. He smiled, watching the thin old nightgown she wore slip from her shoulder, exposing the star birthmark that prophesized them as one.

"Is everyone asleep?" she asked him softly. Harry shut the door again, then stepped over to sit on the foot of her bed.

"Everyone except Tonks and Moony," he told her, holding his arms out for her to slip into. "I overheard them making plans to get together in the sitting room, so we'll have to be really quiet."

"I know a silencing spell," she told him, kissing his cheek. "We won't be heard, even a whisper." Harry leaned back and looked at her through very serious eyes.

"We don't have to do this," he reassured her, watching the smile creep across her delicate lips.

"I have never wanted anything more," she assured him, kissing his lips tenderly. "I just can't believe the time has finally come. I've dreamt about it for months, years even, and now it's here, I can hardly stand it."

"Shall we go then," he asked her, standing from the bed and reaching out for her hand. Ginny took his fingers with hers and smiled brightly as he lead her to the doorway. He turned the handle cautiously, peering out into the darkness to make certain the coast was clear, before turning back and pulling her along behind him. They walked as quietly as possible to the room down the hall, forgetting about the certain floorboard that creaked when touched. They froze in the hall, hoping that nobody had heard it. Several anxious seconds ticked by before they felt confident enough to continue their journey. Harry opened the door to the room, and then reached for Ginny, lifting her in his arms and carrying her across the threshold. He pushed the feeling that this would be his only chance to do so, that someday he would be dead and another man would be carrying her across their marriage door. Tonight was their night, and he would not allow such thoughts to distract him.

Ginny gasped, when Harry softly pushed the door shut behind them, setting her back down on her feet. He had spent twenty minutes magically decorating the room, transforming the once dark and dreary decor into a light, welcoming place of romance and fluff. The bed had been made with crisp white sheets, and a thick warm comforter of pastel blue, while a dozen pillows of all sizes lined the top near the headboard. Pale sheer curtains hung from the tops of the four posters, etching them in a definite aura of romance. The room was lit up with hundreds of softly glowing candles, and scented oils. The fireplace was lit and a warm glow cascaded into the stillness, inventing them to come in. In front of the fireplace hearth laid a soft white fur rug, and next to the bed sat a silver ice bucket, and a chilled bottle of butter beer, the one thing they both could drink and both liked. Harry walked to the end of the massive four-poster bed, picking up the soft sheer gown he had placed there. He turned around and handed it to her, smiling as she gingerly took it in her hands.

"I bought this for you, from a mail order catalogue," he told her with a blush. "The first time I saw it, I thought of how you would look in it. You don't have to wear it, I just wanted you to have it." Ginny smiled, touching the soft material to her cheek. "It's satin," he told her in answer to her questioning eyes. "I want only the best for you. You deserve it."

"You shouldn't have spent so much money on me," she told him with a blush that lit up her entire face. Harry stepped to her, capturing her hands in his and kissing each finger gently. He had his money his parents had given him, which was a great deal, and now he had Sirius's money. He was richer than he could have once imagined, and yet it didn't seem to mean that much to him. He didn't care about fortunes, or wealth, so long as he had her.

"Ginny," he began after several moments. "I have more than I will ever need, but nothing I possess could compare to you. You mean more to me than all the gold in the world." He leaned down and kissed her lips, tasting the tears that had slid down her cheeks unchecked. "I love you," he told her softly as he pulled away. "We don't have to do this."

"Yes we do," she insisted. "I love you and I have wanted this for so long. Now that it's here, I can't believe how lucky I am. Give me a minute," she told him with a blush. "I'll be right back." Quietly she slipped out the door, leaving Harry to himself.

Harry sighed. He wanted this more with each passing moment, and he found himself praying for patience. He had to please her, he wanted nothing more than to bring her the pleasure she had envisioned and dreamt of for so long. He only hoped the restraining spell he's found in George's magazine would last long enough for him to accomplish his goals.

He quickly removed his jumper and pants, slipping into a terry bathrobe, feeling the softness against his body. He was totally naked beneath the robe, and the sight of his arousal was evident, as he forced himself to concentrate on the restraining spell he'd used. The magazine said it would last for one hour, and his time was shortly coming to an end, but he still had to refrain from losing control. He opened the bottle of butter beer, pouring two glasses of the sweet cold liquid, and turned in time to see the girl of his dreams walk through the door.

She wore the gown he had bought her, looking like an angel come to life. It was a creamy white satin, low cut on the neckline to reveal the cleavage between her round firm breasts. It hugged her figure just as the magazine he had purchased it from had promised. The molding spell made the gown move with her, as she stepped closer to him, never once revealing more than it was supposed to. The long skirt hung to the floor, finishing in a soft lace hem. There were no sleeves, only two very thin straps holding the top up, and when Harry looked at her, he could see the star on her shoulder, reminding him that she was indeed his.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, watching the blush creep up her chest to her hairline. "I would never have imagined how wonderful my life could be, until you entered it. Now, I can't imagine living without you. Every day I realize I love you more than the day before."

"I am yours Harry Potter," she whispered, reaching out and touching his cheek with her delicate fingers. "I love you and will do anything to make you understand that."

"Make certain this is what you want, Ginny," he ordered her gently. "Once we start, I can't promise I'll be able to stop. You may need to remember that threat of using a bucket of ice, if I can't"

"Harry," she told him, stepping to his and leaning into his lips, her mouth barely a breath away. "Shut up and make love to me."