War and Passion

Chapter Fifteen

Secrets

Harry was feeling totally emotionally drained, tired, aching, his head throbbing. . . Hermione was right, he was on the verge of a breakdown. He had to do something.

He had gone off to bed shortly after the confrontation with Sirius. Harry had faith in Remus' ability to handle his mate. The last Harry saw of the two of them was Sirius stumbling blindly to bed, the scotch bottle still in hand, with Remus close behind him.

Ron and Hermione had also retreated to her room, arguing the whole way. Ron really didn't want Hermione to go, and Harry couldn't blame him. However, the sounds of them arguing had abruptly stopped and the room, which was next door to Harry's, was deathly quiet now, meaning that a silencing spell had been cast. Harry just tried not to think why.

Everyone had someone. . . Harry was the only one sleeping alone tonight and it bothered him. He sat on his bed for almost a half an hour debating on whether on not he should risk Apparating to the Burrow.

First of all, Harry wasn't all that good at Apparating yet. That added with to the fact that he was in bad condition mentally, left him wide open for the chance of splinching himself. But, he might very well end up in St. Mungo's if he didn't go see Ginny; so really, it was a chance either way.

Harry got up and went to his desk, looking through it for a quill. He sat down and quickly wrote out a note, just in case anyone should find his room empty.

Gone to the Burrow.

Harry

The note was short, but explained very clearly what he was up to. Harry seriously hoped that Hermione was keeping Ron busy, because he didn't fancy the idea of Ron finding it. But, at that point, it was a risk worth taking.

Harry dropped the parchment on his bed then took a deep breath. His head was still throbbing, but for just that moment he tried to ignore it and form a picture of Ginny's room in his mind.

*

Ginny sat at the small desk in her room, writing. It was her comfort, really. It always had been. Of course it had got her into a fair spot of trouble in her first year. She had given it up for a while, before she realized that it really wasn't the writing that had got her in trouble, but Lucius Malfoy.

She didn't, however, keep a dairy. She usually filled up old books with mindless ramblings and poetry. Things that would make zero sense to anyone but her. She could look back and remember exactly what she was feeling and thinking.

Her poems of the last couple of days had been very dark in nature. The world felt like it was crumbling around her. She'd spent the past three days sitting in the kitchen listening to the old wireless with her mum. Her father and Percy worked late every night. The twins had gone to the ministry to volunteer to help in their spare time. Bill was working overtime trying to set up wards over all the vital wizarding areas around London. And Charlie, well no one ever knew what Charlie was up to. Her mum worried over him constantly, knowing that out of everyone, Charlie was always in the most danger. At least Ron was with Harry, and safe at Lupin Lodge.

Ginny almost started to cry when she thought of Harry. She missed him desperately. But, she hadn't received on owl from him in over three days. She was beginning to wonder if she had imagined everything. She had tried to make excuses for him, thinking that he must be very busy. But how hard was it to send her an owl and let her know that he was alive. Surely he must know how difficult everything was at the Burrow. He must know that she needed him. She didn't think she could make it through one more day of her mother weeping every time reports of more attacks came in.

Ginny was writing furiously as she thought, her quill dancing over the page, leaving a swirly black scrawl behind it. She was so caught up in her writing that the loud thump of someone crashing into her room caused her to knock over her inkbottle and gasp in alarm. She whirled around, holding her quill like a wand, wide-eyed and terrified.

Her jaw dropped when she watched Harry stand up; dusting off the black shirt and trousers he was wearing. It took her a few seconds to process that Harry was standing in her room, and he'd Apparated there.

"Harry! When did you learn to Apparate?"

"Obviously, just recently. . . That was less than graceful," Harry said as he looked at her nightdress that had black ink spilled over the front of it.

"But, you haven't finished Hogwarts yet?"

She watched Harry wince at the mention of Hogwarts, a pained expression flowing over his features. Ginny looked closer at Harry then, standing up to be near him. She reached up to smooth the crease between his eyes that made him look like he'd been squinting all day. Her hand drifted down to his cheek that was rough from not shaving. He looked world weary, like he was decades older.

"You've been having a hard time?" Ginny whispered. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

Harry touched her hand, his thumb running lightly over the top of it. Then he glanced once more at her nightdress. He leaned down and ran his hand over the black ink stains, leaving stark white cotton in its wake.

"Sorry about that. . ." he said as he straightened up.

"You're avoiding my question, Harry."

"Yes, I am," he agreed, reaching to her shoulder and picking up a lock of red hair, rubbing it between his fingers distractedly.

"Why?"

"For lots of reasons. . . Good reasons. . ." Harry said, his voice still sounding far away.

"Harry, you need to talk to me. You need to tell me what's going on," Ginny said firmly, sounding unnervingly like her mother.

Harry looked up, his eyes gazing at her intently. "Have you missed me?"

"What? Yes, of course. . .But, that's not what- -"

"I've missed you, too," Harry said as he trailed a hand down to the curve of her waist, his eyes roaming over body.

"Harry. . . You're avoiding my questions," Ginny said, totally exasperated.

"I thought we established that already?" Harry said softly, as he leaned down his lips running feather light kisses over her neck, his breath hot over her skin.

As stubborn as Ginny was, her neck tilted to give him better access. Her hand drifted to his hair of its own free will, and she shivered with the feel of his short black hair flowing through her fingers. They could talk later; she had missed him.

She brought his mouth to hers and his lips consumed hers in a needy kiss. His hands were shaking as they wove themselves into her hair and she realized that Harry was clinging to her for dear life. She could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stress in his arms.

She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. She could see the traces of pain there; he'd been suffering, physically. Ginny was certain of it. Her first instinct was to reprimand him for not taking better care of himself, for not seeking help. But, her second and much stronger instinct was to ease the pain, to make it disappear for him.

"Ginny, I'm sorry. I'm not-" Harry started to say, his voice wavering, But, she stopped him, putting a finger to his lips.

"Let me make it better, Harry," Ginny said softly.

Harry started to protest, to say he was fine, but stopped when her fingers drifted to his forehead, her thumb smoothing over his scar. She felt the energy there, the pain, and it burned her, just slightly.

"Oh god, what are you doing?" Harry gasped; he went to push her hand away but couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. Instead his eyes closed and his knees bent like he was about to pass out.

Ginny urged him to the bed and he collapsed onto it, pulling her with him, holding her fingers to his scar like a lifeline. His head fell more deeply back onto the pillow, a low groan coming from him.

Ginny could feel the pain draining from him. She could feel it radiating up her arm and with it came images, brief flashes of horrible things. She wanted to block them out as much as Harry wanted to get rid of them and as a distraction she leaned down to run her lips over his jaw line, drawing strength from the smell of him, a warm masculine smell that mixed nicely with the fragrance of the spice soap he used.

Harry's hands that had been clenching at the sheets, laced into her hair once more as he uttered feeble protests at what she was doing. Ginny placed her whole hand on his forehead, thinking about how much she loved him, wanting with all her soul to soothe him and the burning intensified, whereas before she had been seeing images of strangers, now she saw things that made her cry out from the pain of it: she heard Lily Potter begging for her son's life, she saw a younger Ron tied to a pillar in the middle of a dark room, screaming in unbelievable pain. She saw herself lying on the stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets, she saw Hermione as she looked now, clinging to Ron, her face buried in the crook of his neck, crying. But what was more, she felt all the emotions that accompanied these images. And she was overwhelmed with it. Her arm started shaking and she vaguely realized that Harry had pushed her hand away from him. That he had reversed their positions so the he was leaning over her.

"Gin. . ." Harry was saying gently, brushing the hair away from her face.

Ginny blinked up at him, still feeling weak, feeling horrified by what she'd seen and felt. Harry looked better, the color had come back into his face and his eyes seemed to sparkle again, where as before they had been dull and lifeless.

"I'm okay," Ginny said weakly.

"You don't look okay. . . Gin, what on earth did you do? I've never felt anything like that before. It was like the opposite of the Cruciatus curse," Harry said in an awed voice as he continued to frown at her.

Ginny smiled at him. She reached up and ran her thumb once more over his scar, she heard Harry gasp again as she caught a brief image of Wormtail cowering before a cloaked figure before she yanked her hand away, she'd seen enough.

"What's happened to Ron?" Ginny asked after a few seconds when she had a chance to sort out all the images and feelings a little. The image and emotions associated with Ron seemed recent and desperate.

Harry looked at her in surprise then moved to get up, his face closing off as she'd seen it do so many times before.

Ginny reached up and held onto his shoulders, preventing his escape. "Tell me what's happened to my brother, Harry."

"Nothing's happened to your brother, he's fine. He's probably shagging Hermione as we speak," Harry tried to joke.

"I saw Hermione crying. She looked like the world had caved in around her. I saw my brother's face. You think I don't know when something is wrong with him?" Ginny questioned severely as most of her energy returned.

"When did you see this? And what in the hell did you do?" Harry barked back, as he touched his scar himself, his eyes narrowing at Ginny. His brow furrowed as he looked past her, deep in thought. Ginny could see he was reaching far into his memory, pulling out all the little clues.

"Harry," Ginny started before he could put it all together.

He waved her off, then his eyes widened in surprise and firm recognition. "You're empathic! My god, why didn't I see it before? You just look at me and know what I'm feeling. And Sirius. . . No wonder he's drawn to you. You absorb some of his pain for him. And me. . . And Ron, he's always a little feistier when you're around. And even Hermione gets all giddy and girl like."

"I am," Ginny agreed softly.

Harry's breath was coming in short bursts as he continued to ponder the implications of his discovery. Ginny got onto her knees behind him, running her hands over his shoulders soothingly.

Harry's breathing became even again, until he suddenly tensed under her fingers and turned around, pushing her hands off his shoulders. "Stop it, Ginny. Stop doing that! You're trying to calm me down."

"What's wrong with that?" Ginny asked, her own eyes narrowed.

"You can't just touch me and make it better. You lied to me!" Harry said, jumping up from the bed and backing away from her.

"I did not lie!"

"Well, you never told me about it," Harry said, falling into the chair at her desk, looking at her with a hurt expression.

"Harry, there are lot's of things you don't tell me about." Ginny said, going to her door and locking it. She stepped aside as Harry cast a silencing spell on it.

"That's different, my secrets are a matter of security," Harry said indignantly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "So are mine. I'm the only known full Empath in all of England. If word got out, I'd have everyone hunting me down, including the Ministry of Magic. Do you want me to go to work for the Ministry of Magic, Harry? They might not even let me finish at Hogwarts. . ."

Harry swore under his breath. "No, I don't want you to work for the Ministry. That's the last thing I want."

"Well then, why are you mad at me?"

"I was just surprised, Ginny. I wasn't expecting you to do what you did. I certainly wasn't expecting you to catch my memories. They're personal, very personal. Plus, I didn't want you to ever know about those things, let alone feel them," Harry sighed.

"You can't keep it all bottled in, Harry. You need to learn how to share your pain a little. No one can carry all you've been carrying around and not break eventually," Ginny said softly as she stood in front of him and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head disbelieving.

"I do. Let me share you're pain with you every once in a while. I know what I'm doing. Dumbledore's been working with me since my third year when my skills started showing up. I wouldn't do anything to hurt myself."

"How could you be empathic and I never know about it?" Harry said in wonder as he looked up at her.

"You just weren't paying attention," Ginny smiled.

"This is so big. You can't tell anyone about this, Dumbledore's right. You don't know what the Ministry is capable of," Harry said in a haunted voice.

"Tell me what's wrong with Ron," Ginny urged, running her hands down to his shoulders, smoothing out the tension there.

Harry looked at her and seemed to be debating with himself. "Gin, if I tell you, you have to keep it a absolute secret. You can't tell anyone, not even your mum."

"I won't."

"He's been drafted. The Ministry of Magic drafted him," Harry said softly, as though afraid someone else might hear him despite the silencing spell he cast.

Ginny gasped in horror. "He's not going, is he?"

"Of course he's going. What choice does he have? He'll be tried for treason if he doesn't. Not that it would matter, this is Ron we're talking about, and he'd go anyway." Harry sighed.

"What happens when you get drafted? Can he still finish school?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's going to work for them full time, he wouldn't have time for school. We've all be doing double studies for our War Mage training so he'll just take the NEWTs to keep on file in case he ever wants to find a different job."

"Will he have to leave home?" Ginny whispered, trying to absorb the news, it was beyond horrible.

"I doubt it. Charlie still lives at home. Most of the fighting is in this country anyway. It's possible that he could be sent away on missions but he'll come home when he's completed them."

"You mean if he comes back," Ginny couldn't help but say, feeling morose for even mentioning such a possibility.

"He'll come back, Ginny. He's got a knack for getting himself out of sticky situations and besides, he won't be alone." Harry said, avoiding her eyes as he looked past her shoulder to the window.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You mean he'll be with Charlie?"

"No, I mean he'll be with me. . . And Hermione, though Ron's a little less than thrilled about that," Harry whispered, looking back at her.

Ginny felt the sob build in her chest. It was too much, she was still trying to recover from Harry's memories. The thought of not only her brother and her best female friend but also Harry fighting in this horrible war was too much. It was like her world had just shattered.

"No," Ginny said, shaking her had as the tears rolled down her face a second before she buried her face in her hands.

He gathered her to him. She sat on his lap and laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Ginny, it'll be okay. We'll all be careful,"

"No, you won't," she cried. "Why do you have to go?"

Harry looked down at her. "You honestly expect me not to? Ron and Hermione are my family."

Ginny blinked up at him, she saw the firm resolution in his set features. There was no changing his mind, it was obvious. He'd brave the very depths of hell for someone he cared about. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"Promise that you won't get yourself killed," Ginny sighed, and Harry visibly relaxed, he had been looking for acceptance, someone to understand.

"I'll definitely try not to," Harry grinned.

"And, you'll keep my brother out of trouble?"

Harry laughed. "Now, that is far too big an undertaking for one man. It'd probably take the whole blasted army to manage that and even then I doubt it. I'm sure he'll have himself knee-deep in something before the week is out."

"I'm sure. . . The ministry might change their minds," Ginny joked hopefully.

"Not even Ron can cause that much trouble. They're desperate and he is very good at what he does."

"Too good," Ginny observed.

"Way too good. . ." Harry agreed.

Ginny trailed a finger over his arm. She felt the muscles shift slightly under her light touch. He was so defined that she could trace the outlines of each muscle, could feel the hours of work that had gone into the development of each one. She supposed that a beautiful body was a small consolation for having to do what Harry was forced to do day in and day out. Still, he was something to look at. . . to touch.

"Make love to me, Harry."

Ginny had been looking up at him when she said it, and she felt the thrill of desire shoot through her when she saw his gaze darken. Being empathic allowed her to feel his emotions, and right now the feelings flowing off of him had an intense effect when mixed with her own raging passion.

Since her secret was out, she did what she'd been longing to do for a long time. Her hands drifted up to face, caressing his cheek that was rough from not shaving. She let her own feelings flow through her fingertips, if she could feel his desire, than she wanted him to feel hers. . . She shared a part of herself with him.

Harry jerked and his eyes opened wide, he reached for one of her hands, placing his much larger palm over hers.

"Jesus, what was that?" he gasped in a low voice.

"That was me, that's what I feel. . . It's what you do to me," Ginny said, her own voice lowered.

"I haven't done anything," Harry said as he laced his fingers into her hair and tilted her face up to his. "Yet."

His lips claimed hers, his tongue flicked against her lips and she parted them to him eagerly. She was still touching him, sharing her feelings with him, the same way he shared his, though be it, unknowingly. It caused him to groan, feeling so much. It would be very intense for someone who'd never experienced it before.

He broke away from her for a second. "God, Ginny maybe you shouldn't do that anymore. I've missed you terribly and that's just a little too much right now. I don't think I'll last."

Ginny grinned at him and let her hand fall to his neck, rubbing her warm fingers over the strong pulse at his neck, sending the herself shooting through his blood stream.

"Holy shit," Harry said as his head fell against the back of the chair. He took a few breaths before he dared speaking. "I make you feel that?"

"Yes," Ginny said, as she continued to touch him.

Harry moved her hand from his neck. He ran his thumb over her hand for a second before he stood up lifting her with him like she weighed nothing.

"I want you to wait to do that again. . . " Harry said as he laid her on her bed and crawled over her.

"Why?"

"Because, if I can make you feel that from one little kiss I want to know what you feel after I do something else."

"What are going to do?" Ginny asked in anticipation.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harry taunted, as he leaned up on his knees to pull his shirt off.

Ginny ran her hands over his chest. He was so beautiful. Her fingers brushing over the black hair that curled there. It wasn't hard to imagine that he was going off to fight a war, at the moment, as his wide shoulders and muscular arms gleamed in the moonlight; he looked every bit the warrior.

Harry groaned, and moved her hands away from him. "I thought I told you to wait."

Ginny frowned at him a second, she hadn't deliberately shared herself with him that time, but he had felt it anyway. She would have pondered the implications further if Harry's lips hadn't descended onto her neck. She arched against him instantly. The hot feel of his mouth was marvelous and she issued her own moan of pleasure, her fingers lacing into his raven hair.

"No touching, Ginny," Harry rasped as he once again moved her fingers away from him. "I'm not used to it. It's too much right now."

"But," Ginny protested, she hadn't done anything. . . had she?

"The hell with it," Harry muttered, as he placed both of her hands above her head and held them there for a moment, Ginny felt something warm shoot through them before he let go and resumed his path against her neck, his tongue tracing the line of her collar bone. Instinctively Ginny went to touch him again, except her hands were held firmly in place, right where Harry had left them.

"Harry!"

Harry stopped to grin up at her. "You're not the only one with a talent"

"Let me go," Ginny said firmly, trying to pull her hands free from whatever magic he had holding them.

"Nope," Harry shook his head as he pulled at her nightdress, moving it up past her waist. "I told you not to touch. Maybe this way you'll behave for once."

"I always behave."

Harry gave a quick disbelieving laugh before he leaned down to kiss the slim lines of her stomach. His lips ran up, his hands raising her nightdress further to reveal her breasts. Harry wasted no time taking a rosy nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened peak, his teeth grazing it in a way that made Ginny tug harder against the invisible restraints that held her, she needed to touch him.

She gave up and instead wrapped her legs around Harry, arching herself against him.

"Harry, please, I want you in me."

Her words had an effect on him, she knew it. But, he just bent over to the other nipple, his tongue flicking against the tip briefly, before he moved up until he was hovering over her again.

"You need to learn patience. Are you always so quick to get everything over with?" Harry whispered against her ear. "I want you to close you eyes and just feel for a little while.

With no other option left to her, Ginny did as she was told, letting herself relax, closing her eyes, and feeling.

He took his time to lazily run his lips and hands over her body. Paying attention to places Ginny would have never thought of as erogenous zones, like the back of her knees, the dip of her belly button. Every once in a while his lips would brush against the inside of her thighs, causing Ginny to arch against him in a silent plea that he ignored.

He was leaving her feeling desperate, her skin was on fire and there was nothing she could do about it. After a while she began to struggle with her hands that were still held firmly in place above her head.

"Harry," she pleaded for what seemed like the hundredth time.

She could feel his desire and knew it was taking a lot to keep himself in check. He looked up at her, his eyes a dark emerald green as one calloused hand slid to her crimson curls, white hot heat rocketed through her at his caress.

"It's so good," she moaned.

"It gets better," Harry breathed against her hipbone.

If Ginny had been in her right mind she would have been prepared for what he did next. But, as it was, she gasped in shock when Harry's lips brushed her center. She tried to pull away from him, but his hands grasped her hips, holding her immobile.

She would have protested, but speaking was impossible. His tongue darted against her again and again, laving over the most sensitive part of her. Ginny's head tossed against the pillow as the fire in her began to build. Like in a dream she heard a distant voice moaning in low tones, and realized that it was herself. He had built her up to this point so slowly that the feeling of Harry loving her so thoroughly was almost overpowering.

Desperate, she started begging for release. He responded by sliding a finger deep into her warmth and that was all it took. . . The combination of his intimate kiss and touch pushed her right over the edge.

A tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her, made all the more violent by the long wait to get to that point. Her hips thrust in an ancient rhythm against his mouth and hand. Even after the pinnacle of desire had been reached the drum of her heart beating heavily against her chest was all she heard. She was taking deep breaths in an attempt to regain some sort of composure.

It took a few minutes for her to realize that at some point after her climax, Harry had moved himself up and released the magical ties that were holding her hands.

She blinked up at him and he smiled. "You can touch me now."

Ginny did so and Harry let his head fall against her shoulder as her fingers slid to his neck, feeling his erratic pulse. He shuddered as he moved himself against her, his arousal pressing firmly against her stomach.

Ginny stopped touching him long enough to pull her nightdress off, since it had been bunched up around her arms. Then she immediately reached for the front of his trousers, undoing the fastening and slipping her hand beneath the lining of his boxers to touch him, all of him.

"Oh fuck," Harry groaned and his body jerked as she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him.

He grabbed her hand after a few seconds, moving it away from him and jumping up, pulling the last remnants of clothing off his body so viciously that Ginny was sure he ripped something. Apparently the lesson in patience was over. . .

Harry fell back on top of her, and she moved her legs to accommodate his much larger form. She reached for him again, but he shook his head saying something incoherent. Then he moved, positioning himself over her entrance. She reached up to brush a stray lock of black hair off his forehead and he moaned again, thrusting himself into her.

Ginny wouldn't have thought that she could feel the pulsating pleasure build again so quickly, but she did. Her hands ran over his face, his neck, his back, causing the muscles to contract wherever they touched, dragging low moans out of Harry as he moved in her. Everything was multiplied a thousand fold since each was feeling the others desire. It created a mirror effect, magnifying the pleasure with every brush of her fingers against his skin.

It was a good thing that Harry could set a strong silencing spell because when they climaxed, neither one could control the hoarse cries of pleasure that escaped past their lips. The pounding of their release ricocheted back and forth between them so forcefully that Ginny could no longer tell where her pleasure stopped and his began.

It took a long time for them to recover, hindered largely by Ginny who couldn't let go of him, couldn't stop tracing the lines of muscles under his skin that glimmered with a fine sheen of sweat. Occasionally, he would moan and jerk in response to her caresses.

Finally he rolled over when he obviously felt that his weight was too much for her. Harry was still grasping for breath, seeming to have a much harder time recovering than Ginny had. He ran a hand through her hair, letting it linger down her back.

It was easy to forget all the other pressing problems that surrounded them. It was easy to pretend that Harry wasn't going off into the worst war the wizarding world had ever seen, for the moment they were just at peace. But, moments like that didn't last.

"I don't want you to go," Ginny whispered into the darkness.

"I know," Harry sighed.

"Stay with me tonight. Don't go home," Ginny requested, feeling the need to hold onto every second she had with him.

Harry turned on his side, and pulled her against him, removing her hands from his neck and placing them in front of her. Then he placed a soft kiss on the part of her neck not covered by her mass of flaming hair.

"I'll stay. But, I have to sleep. I haven't slept in days. And I'll stay up all night if you keep touching me like that," Harry murmured sleepily against her skin.

Ginny nodded, and kept it to herself that she hadn't done anything to share herself with him. She must have opened some sort of channel between the two of them that was unwilling to close. She drifted off to sleep with the thought that either Harry would have to get use to it or she would have to embarrass them both by asking Dumbledore for help.