The Final Reckoning

Chapter Eight: The Lonely Horny Thing

'OW!' Ron yelled. 'What was that for?'

'For not setting your bloody alarm clock, that's what,' Harry snapped. 'Your mum's back and Hermione's downstairs right now talking to her.'

Ron went white. 'Really?'

'Yeah, really,' said Harry. 'Ginny and I just saved you a shitload of trouble, so the least you could do is drag your lazy arse out of bed and get down there and help your girlfriend.'

'Okay, okay,' said Ron hotly, jumping out of bed. He was completely naked.

'Oi, Ron!' said Harry, throwing up his hands and turning around. 'Jesus, put some clothes on.'

'Piss off,' Ron retorted. Harry heard him rummaging in his dresser for some clothes, and then the swish of fabric on skin as Ron got dressed.

After about a minute, Ron said, 'I'm going downstairs. You coming?'

'In a bit,' said Harry grumpily. 'I still need to recover from seeing you naked.'

'Prat,' said Ron, smacking Harry on the back of the head. 'You're just jealous of my huge--.'

'Trust me when I tell you, Ron, that I have never once in all the time I've known you given a nanosecond's consideration to the size of your willy,' said Harry, smacking him back. And then he grinned smugly. 'But if I ever do get curious I'll ask Moaning Myrtle.'

'That is NOT funny,' said Ron. 'I'm going.'

He stalked out of his room in two long strides, leaving Harry alone, at last, to breathe. He was exhausted and he needed sleep, but the events of the past several hours had him completely keyed up. He got dressed, and after spending a few hopeless minutes trying to flatten his hair, he headed downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were seated in the living room, the four of them looking at the floor.

Dumbledore was there, and standing behind him, looking both worried and a bit put out, were Hermione's parents, Warren and Alice Granger. Dr. Warren Granger was a slight, thin man; Hermione looked very little like him but for her brown eyes. Dr. Alice Granger was slightly taller than her husband, and it was from her that Hermione had inherited the bushy, brown hair. Except that in Dr. Alice Granger's case, that hair was tamed into submission by hair products and a rather severe looking hair clip. Both were lightly dusted with soot from having traveled by Floo Powder.

'Miss Granger, I'm very disappointed in your decision to sneak out of Headquarters last night,' said Dumbledore, staring down at her and then letting his eyes roam over the four of them. 'What you did was rash and insensible, and entirely unlike you.'

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

'Please, let me finish,' he said. 'Fortunately your...midnight jaunt has not undone all the hard work I've had to do to persuade your parents to allow you to return to Hogwarts for your final year.'

At this, everyone gasped. Hermione went pale and clutched Ron's arm, then looked at her parents.

'R-really?' she whispered.

'Yes, really,' said Warren Granger.

At this Hermione gave a squeal of delight, leapt up from the sofa, and threw herself at her parents, who both hugged her back, shaking their heads. Harry and the others stood up.

'I can't believe it!' she cried, and she pulled away just long enough to gush at Dumbledore. 'Thank you, Professor, thank you so much! Oh, my god, what did you say to them?' She turned back to her parents. 'What did he say to you?'

'Your Headmaster told us about Harry,' said Dr. Granger, casting a glance in Harry's direction; Harry blushed and looked down. 'What he's faced with. And he told us about Ron as well.'

At this Ron laughed nervously and looked down at his hands as his ears went red. Harry pursed his lips. Did that mean Hermione's parents knew Ron might be a Seer?

'I can't say I'm thrilled about all of this,' said Dr. Granger. 'But I do feel a bit better knowing you have such loyal friends.'

'It took some convincing,' said Alice Granger, 'and...we're still not entirely happy about it, Hermione. But if being at Hogwarts is ultimately safer for you, then that's where we want you to be.'

Harry tried not to grin. It was going to be okay, after all. Hermione wasn't going anywhere.

Ron stood up from the sofa and cleared his throat; his ears were still red.

'S-sir,' he said slowly, addressing Hermione's father. 'Could I...speak with you?'

Dr. Granger eyed Ron for a moment, and said, 'Certainly.'

And Harry stared as Hermione's father and her boyfriend headed to a corner and began to speak.

'What's Ron doing?' Ginny muttered, moving to stand next to Harry.

'Dunno,' said Harry, staring at Ron and Dr. Granger; Harry couldn't make out what was being said, but Ron seemed to be doing most of the talking, as Dr. Granger listened intently.

Harry found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Ron and Dr. Granger; he was aware of Mrs. Weasley speaking to Hermione and Dumbledore, and of Ginny standing next to him, but the scene of Ron and Dr. Granger talking commanded Harry's full attention.

And then it was over. Ron and Dr. Granger shook hands; Dr. Granger put his hand on Ron's shoulder and gave him a sad kind of smile, then nodded at him and walked back over to Hermione and his wife.

'What was that all about?' Ginny asked, looking up at Harry, then at Ron, who was still a bit red in the face as he sat on the sofa.

'Got me,' said Harry. It wasn't as if the day could really get any weirder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Hermione's parents had left. The whole morning had been almost surreal, and now, as Harry had time to come down from the anxiety, he realized how completely exhausted he was.

Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley was inclined to be indulgent, and allowed all four of them to forego another round of endless degnoming. The four of them trooped upstairs. Hermione hugged Ron tightly, then kissed him rather chastely on the cheek and told him she'd see him later, and went into Ginny's room. Ron headed upstairs, leaving Harry and Ginny suddenly alone in the corridor.

'Eventful morning,' said Ginny dryly.

'That's one way to describe it,' said Harry. 'That was a hell of a close call, actually.'

'No kidding,' said Ginny, grinning. 'And all thanks to you and me. We make a good team, Potter.

'Yeah, I guess we do, Weasley,' said Harry, chucking her on the chin.

'Ron and Hermione owe us, of course,' said Ginny.

'You're right,' said Harry. 'They do. What should we make them do for us?'

'Do our homework for us?' Ginny suggested.

'No good,' said Harry. 'One of us would be stuck with Ron.'

'Good point,' said Ginny, smiling. 'Bloody hell, I'm tired.' And then she went and did it again. She yawned and did that back stretching thing. Harry tried not to look at the way her body moved beneath the t-shirt, the way it stretched across her breasts...

'Harry?' said Ginny. 'Are you okay?'

'What?' said Harry, and then he felt the back of his neck burn.

Shit, did she just catch me ogling her breasts?

'Is it your scar?' she said, reaching up to touch his forehead. In so doing she moved closer to him and brought those breasts right up close, where they grazed his arm. It was just the briefest brush against his skin, but it was enough.

Bloody hell, those are soft...

Ron's SISTER, you sick perv!

'It doesn't hurt,' said Harry, his voice feeling very croaky all of a sudden. What the hell was wrong with him?

'Well, that's good,' said Ginny, backing up a bit. 'Why don't you get some rest, you must be knackered.'

'I am,' said Harry, 'a bit.'

'See you later, then?' said Ginny. 'We can come up with a plan for revenge, yeah?' She put her hand on his arm. Her touch was cool and comforting.

'Sounds good,' said Harry, keeping his eyes firmly on her face, which wasn't quite as freckly as Ron's. He tried to ignore her hand on his arm.

'G'night then,' said Ginny, backing up into her room with a warm smile. 'Or good morning, as they case may be.'

'Sleep well,' Harry heard himself say as she closed her door. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and started up the stairs to Ron's room.

It was official. Something was Wrong with him.

He was having impure thoughts about Ginny. Ginny. Ron's little sister. The kid who used to have that crazy schoolgirl crush on him. The girl who used to put her elbow in the butter dish because of him.

Not anymore, she's over you.

Was THAT why he was starting to notice her? Because she was no longer available?

Harry didn't like the implications of that idea. Actually, he didn't like the implications of any of it. Okay, so Ginny was cute. Really cute. And she had a lovely figure. And really great breasts...

Knock it off!

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it of Ginny, but it was impossible.

I'm just horny, that's all it is. Horny and lonely and pathetic. I'll bet I get to school and start noticing all the other girls' breasts. Come to think of it, Parvati has a pretty good set...

Parvati has a pretty good everything. Lavender's not bad, either--nice legs on her. And...oh yeah, I heard her and Seamus going at it in the showers that time, and she sounds like she'd be wild, no, I KNOW she'd be wild because she screamed her head off...

There, see! You're thinking naughty thoughts about Parvati, too! And Lavender! You're hardly even FRIENDS with them, you think they're vain and silly, and you're thinking dirty thoughts about them! Because you're horny and lonely and pathetic. That's all. It doesn't mean anything. It's normal. So...thinking about Ginny's breasts, her really, really pretty breasts brushing up against your arm...it doesn't mean anything. It only means you're really horny and...great. Now you're in pain, too. Stupid erections.

He groaned inwardly as he opened the door to Ron's room and dragged himself over to his cot. Ron was already asleep, sprawled out his bed and snoring lightly, his arm thrown over his face.

And Harry was facing a...growing problem in his trousers because Ginny just had to go and do that back stretching thing and brush her bosom up against his arm.

Breasts should be outlawed.

You're in pain, and you can't take care of it, either, because wanking in your best friend's room while he's sleeping is really, really wrong and disgusting and...hey, that helped.

Snape in a dress. That helps, too. Thank god. I've lost count how many times I've flown solo since Susan dumped me.

Harry forced himself to think of a few more nasty images as he lay down on the cot, but then he realized that perhaps such images wouldn't lead to pleasant dreams, so he turned his thoughts to History of Magic lessons, which were so boring that just thinking about them made one almost catatonic.

Harry's eyes drifted shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in the Astronomy Tower, with Susan. They were kissing. Her lips were soft and her tongue tasted of strawberries, and she was sighing into his mouth as he gently unbraided her hair. Merlin, he loved her hair, loved that she never seemed to wear it loose except when they were in bed together. Her hair came loose and flowed over his fingers, all auburn shine and softness, and he pulled her down on top of him on a pile of cushions. She began to unbutton his shirt and her hair tickled him across his chest as she kissed him, and then he rolled her over and was on top of her and murmuring things in her ear, and his hands were caressing her as his mouth devoured hers...

He was in his room. Susan was speaking to him in a low voice, and her eyes were filled with tears. Harry was pleading with her, but she kept shaking her head, and backed out of the room. Her hair was in the plait again, and as he reached out, watching her go, his hands felt bereft, and he knew he'd never get to touch her hair again...

He was sitting by the lake, after a fly. His Firebolt was resting next to him. He was trying not to think about her. Someone sat next to him. Ginny. It was hard to look at her. Because of her hair. Not that Ginny's hair was the same as Susan's. It wasn't. Susan's was more brown with red in it; Ginny's was pure copper. But Ginny's hair was the same long, wavy silkiness that flowed down her back like a river, and Harry wondered if he'd ever look at girls with beautiful, wavy hair and not want to wrap himself up in it. Or feel sick at heart that he couldn't touch it...

He was crying, on Ginny's shoulders, but he didn't feel stupid, because she had her arm round his shoulder and was stroking his head with her free hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke up a few hours later, feeling surprisingly refreshed. He looked over to Ron's bed and saw that it was empty, and smirked. It almost never happened, but occasionally, Ron did get out of bed before him.

Harry pulled on his trainers and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Along the way he passed Ginny's bedroom and noticed that Hermione's trunk and Crookshanks' cage were stored neatly inside; Crookshanks was sprawled on the spare bed, sleeping. Harry continued down to the kitchen, and upon reaching it, he stopped in his tracks. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting at the table with Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody.

'Uh...hi,' said Harry hesitantly.

I was wrong, he thought. The day can get weirder.

'Potter,' said Moody curtly.

'Hello, Harry, said Lupin. 'You must be wondering why we're here.'

'Well, yeah,' said Harry, glancing at Ron. Ron shrugged his shoulders; he clearly didn't know, either. Harry sat down slowly at the table, across from Lupin and Moody.

'It's nothing terrible,' said Lupin reassuringly. 'I'm just here to go over the Apparition training schedules with you and Ron and Hermione.'

'Hermione?' said Harry. 'But she's not old enough--'

'Special dispensation from the Ministry,' Lupin interrupted. 'On recommendation from Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.'

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was blushing and looking at her hands.

'We thought it would make things easier on all of you if you could train together,' Lupin went on. 'If Hermione waits until she's seventeen, she'd have to wait until the winter holidays from school. I think Dumbledore would like her trained up as much as you and Ron sooner rather than later.'

'Okay,' said Harry.

'There is a small wrinkle,' said Lupin.

'There always is,' said Harry dryly.

'The training starts on the first of August,' said Lupin. 'It's likely that you'll still be testifying against Lucius Malfoy on that day, which means you could go into the first training session feeling, well...'

'Not at my best,' Harry finished.

'That's right,' said Lupin. 'I asked about starting the training a few days later but the Ministry is short on Aurors who can take the time out to teach the course; Kenneth was the only one available on short notice, and that was the only time he had available.'

'Why does an Auror have to teach it?' Ron asked.

'Well, technically an Auror doesn't have to,' said Lupin, 'but Aurors tend to Apparate far more frequently than most; they have a lot more field experience doing it, and the Ministry feels that this makes them better candidates for teaching the proper safety techniques involved and the like. In any event, you all probably know by now that Apparating under emotionally stressful conditions is more dangerous. I just wanted to give you, Harry, fair warning.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, trying not to sound too glum.

'One other thing, Harry,' said Lupin. 'I'll be by on Friday to take you to the Chief Prosecutor's office for your witness preparation. He wants you there at six o'clock. The session will take about three hours, and you'll go back the following day to go over everything one more time. The Chief Prosecutor asks that you take notes of the sessions and study the questions he'll give you; it'll help you when you get up on the stand.'

'Okay,' said Harry, his heart feeling heavy. Suddenly he wished he'd stayed in bed.

'I know this isn't much fun for you, Harry,' said Lupin kindly.

'You could say that,' said Harry, casting a glance at Ron, then Hermione, then Ginny; Ginny gave him a sympathetic smile, and the tightness in his stomach eased a bit.

'You'll get through this,' said Lupin, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder. 'We'll help you.'

'We all will,' said Ginny softly. Harry smiled gratefully at her before standing up and shaking Lupin's hand.

'Thanks,' he said. 'I mean it.'

Lupin smiled and nodded, and then he and Moody left, using the fireplace.

'Well, now that's done, you lot must be hungry,' said Mrs. Weasley bracingly, and she went into the pantry and fetched some things to prepare lunch.

The meal was quiet. Ron ate his usual three helpings. Hermione nibbled her food daintily and Mrs. Weasley repeatedly urged her to eat up. Harry ate two sandwiches and plenty of salad, more to keep Mrs. Weasley from needling him about food than out of any serious hunger on his part. Ginny took a sandwich and proceeded to scrape the butter off the bread with her knife.

Half an hour later, they helped Mrs. Weasley clean up; she then announced she was going to Order Headquarters for a meeting. She left via the fireplace a few minutes later, in a whirl of green flames.

For a long moment after she'd gone, nobody said anything. Harry looked up again and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him, concern etched on their faces. He wished they wouldn't do that--look at him like he was about to crack. Not that he didn't appreciate their concern. But hadn't he already told Ron he wasn't going to lose it? Why did they always have to fuss?

He looked over at Ginny, and her expression was entirely different. She was smiling, just slightly; her eyes flickered over to Ron and Hermione, then back at him, and he understood her meaning at once.

I know exactly how you feel, the look said. Them fussing over us like we're glass ornaments and we're going to break.

Harry smiled back at her, drawn up in her eyes. It really was something, he decided, the way she could look at you and know what you were thinking. Was she a telepath or something? Or maybe it was a girl thing.

'Anyone for Quidditch?' she said brightly.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Ron?'

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, then looked at Harry.

'Actually,' said Ron hesitantly, 'um, Hermione...and me...thought we'd go for a swim.'

'With or without swimming costumes?' said Ginny in a bored voice.

'Ginny!' Ron and Hermione both yelled; Harry clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

'But we don't have to go,' said Hermione through gritted teeth, as she turned back to Harry. 'That is, if...well, you don't want us to...'

'Hermione,' said Harry, in as patient a voice as he could muster. 'I'm fine. Okay? You and Ron go...swimming. Ginny and I can practice Quidditch.'

'Are you sure?' Ron said.

'Positive,' said Harry, forcing himself to smile. Honestly, these two, he thought. They're so afraid they'll offend me by going off to have a shag. Like I care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron and Hermione were gone for most of the afternoon. Harry didn't blame them--if he had a girlfriend and the opportunity to shag presented itself...

You told them it didn't bother you.

It doesn't. It really doesn't. But...well, yeah. They're together and I'm...alone.

'Harry, heads up!'

Harry looked up just in time to see a beat up Quaffle hurling at him; he reached up and caught it with one hand.

'Nice catch,' said Ginny, and she circled round the yard on her Nimbus 2001. 'Considering how distracted you are.'

'Sorry,' said Harry, tossing the Quaffle back to her. 'Seeker reflexes.'

Ginny zoomed over to him on her broom and came to a neat stop next to him, and they hovered about fifteen feet above the ground.

'I know how you feel,' she said.

Harry looked up. 'Do you?'

'Yeah,' said Ginny. 'You're over the worst of it, the part where it hurts just to think about her, and now you're in that lonely, horny stage.'

Harry gave a kind of choked laugh and nearly fell off his broom.

'Ginny!' he managed.

'What?' she said defensively. 'Don't act so shocked, Harry. I've been there.'

'You've been dumped?'

'Yeah,' said Ginny shrugging.

'When? Who?'

'Dean,' said Ginny.

'Wait, I thought you and Dean...that was mutual,' said Harry.

'I only said that so Ron wouldn't break the guy's legs,' said Ginny. 'But yeah, Dean dumped me.'

'Why?' Harry asked, knowing even as he did that it was none of his business.

'I wouldn't have sex with him,' said Ginny matter-of-factly.

'He dumped you for that?' said Harry indignantly. 'That's...well, that's really shitty!'

'Yeah, it was,' said Ginny, tossing the Quaffle lightly up and down.

Harry watched her for a second, and the something occurred to him.

'Um, Ginny,' he said. 'Uh...if you...never had sex with Dean...how d'you know about the, well, the lonely...horny...pathetic...desperate thing?'

Ginny laughed. 'You're in a really bad way, aren't you?'

Harry blushed scarlet. 'Not that bad,' he mumbled, looking down. 'So, how do you know--'

'Harry, one doesn't have to have had sex to know what horny feels like,' Ginny said. 'There's lot of other stuff, you know.'

'I know,' he muttered, as his face continued to burn, as he wondered just what other stuff she had done.

He couldn't believe this. He was talking about sex with Ginny. The only thing that could make the day weirder at this point was to sit down to tea with Voldemort.

'You...don't seem too cut up about it,' said Harry slowly. 'The break up, I mean.'

'Well, I was,' said Ginny. 'It was horrible at the time. I really fell for him, you know? I really didn't think I would but...I did. So, yeah, when he dumped me, it hurt.' She flipped the Quaffle at him, and he caught it.

'He told you he was dumping you because you...you wouldn't have sex with him?' said Harry, tossing the Quaffle back.

'Oh, no,' said Ginny. 'No, he told me that he was too mature for me. That he needed to be with a girl who could share everything with him. No, his exact words were..."all of herself".'

'He really said that?' said Harry, as he caught the Quaffle from her again.

'Yeah, he did,' said Ginny. 'The best part, though, was when he told me I had "issues with trust" and that I was "emotionally stunted" because I didn't trust him enough to have sex with him.' She caught the Quaffle neatly and passed it back to him again.

'What a load of shite,' said Harry, catching the Quaffle and flipping it back to her.

'Mmm, you could say that,' said Ginny as she caught the Quaffle one-handed; no mean feat, considering what tiny hands she had.

'But,' she went on, tossing the Quaffle up in the air and catching it, 'I have to say, it was by the far the most creative load of shite I've ever heard from a bloke.'

'He's a stupid arse, that's what he is,' said Harry fervently. 'No wonder you didn't tell Ron. Dean'd still be in a coma.'

'Yeah,' said Ginny, sounding wistful. 'Almost makes me wish I HAD told Ron the truth. I think I'm too nice for my own good. Oh well, Dean's loss in the end.' She tossed the Quaffle to him and he caught it.

He gazed at her with something like...wonder. The more he got to know her the more she confused him. She was so tough and resilient, but she had horrible nightmares of Tom Riddle that reduced her to tears. She'd had her heart broken by Dean Thomas but here she was, talking about it as if it didn't bother her in the least anymore.

'How do you do it?' he asked, without thinking.

'Do what?'

'I dunno, be so...optimistic?' he said.

She shrugged again, but her eyes became evasive and she didn't look at him.

'Life's too short to wallow,' was all she said. 'And speaking of wallowing, why are we doing that now? Toss me the Quaffle, Potter.'

He looked at her for a long moment; it was obvious she wasn't telling him the truth. Ironic, he thought considering how good a liar she could be when she felt like it.

'I'm waiting,' Ginny said, putting her hand on her hip and arching her eyebrows.

He forced a grin and pitched her the Quaffle, and they passed it back and forth as they flew. The whole time Harry wondered about what she wasn't telling him.