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Wearing the Horns	By : Gai Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 12085 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: i own nothing. All rights to Harry Potter and its characters belongs to Rowing. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Wearing the Horns
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Chapter 1

Just because I was drunk when I said it doesn’t make it any less true. In fact, according to Ginny, it makes it ten times more telling. It’s insane really, this fantasy of mine. I would have never thought myself the type. But I remember the first time thoughts like these popped into my mind. It was only a few months after we married, it was Ron and Hermione’s wedding day. Life couldn’t have been better for any of us. Ron and I had just graduated from the Auror academy. Hermione was enjoying her Transfigurations apprenticeship with McGonagall. Ginny was more than happy with her job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the ministry. I don’t think there was ever a time before that when we had all been so happy and content.

I suppose it might have been one of those things where you subconsciously try to sabotage your own happiness. I guess I just wasn’t use to things going well for me. I might have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t know.

Ginny looked beautiful that day, in an emerald green silk dress and matching robes. It was one of my favourites on her. There wasn’t a male pair of eyes in the place that didn’t linger when we passed. I know she has an effect on men, I’ve noticed before. Of course I know how attractive she is; I married her for god’s sake. I’m not the overly jealous type, but who wouldn’t be affected seeing their wife ogled by half the people in the room. I even noticed some women staring her way, and not only in envy. Yes, my Ginny is stunning. No one can deny that. So I couldn’t help feel a twinge of something primal when she got overly long hugs from our male friends.

She and Dean were work mates at the time and his lingering arms around her when they said hello was even more infuriating for just that reason. They saw each other every day at the office, why did he even need to hug her. I watched them, as George chattered away about his newest invention beside me, nodding when he paused and ah ha-ing when it sounded like a question. I watched Dean causally lay his hand on my wife’s waist as they talked in their little group.

Part of me wanted to stomp over there and break every single finger on that hand. Another part of me wanted to know what his face would look like if he were to discover the birth mark in the shape of an old VW beetle on that very spot. He was raised in the muggle world; he’d probably be as fascinated by it as I was when I first saw it. You can even make out two wheels if you look hard enough. Ginny didn’t understand my obsession with it.

Maybe it was the alcohol that time as well. Over the years since, I’ve found it easy to blame the free flowing Champaign of that night. If it wasn’t for Ginny’s probing, I’d still blame the alcohol. For my mind wondered into treacherous dark waters while I watched them. I couldn’t help imagining what Dean’s dark skinned hand would look like pressed against Ginny’s pale flesh if that dress wasn’t in the way. I wondered what her hair would look like against his stomach and hips if she were to kneel over him the way she liked to do to me. I tried to imagine her expression if it were him moving inside her and not me. Would she be different? Would she move differently? Make different sounds? Would she come differently?

After a while George had given up on my company and left me alone at the bar. Ginny and Dean had by then gone their separate ways and were socialising with others. I was still trapped in my own head, with illicit and scandalous thoughts of my wife with another man.

That night, when we made love, I let my imagination run wild. I’m sure my inebriation helped matters a bit. I thought of her with Dean, I thought of her with Seamus, with Dennis, with Neville, hell a dark part of me even thought of her with Ron. I watched her mouth move as she said my name and I imagined what it would look like with another’s panted out from between those luscious pink lips. That one night I truly let myself go and it was one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever experienced.

The next day of course, I spent most of the morning with my head over the toilet bowl. I knew it wasn’t only because of how much I drank. I was disgusted with myself. How I could even contemplate such things, let alone allow myself to make love to her using those images to fuel the flames. I had to stop myself many times that day from apologising to her. I tried to forget it all. I pushed it down into the far recesses of my mind. I blamed the Champaign.

But flashes of intermingled limbs, one set hers’ and the other not mine, would enter my mind on the odd occasion, usually in the most inopportune times. Like when the tanned Italian healer named Roberto, performed her first check up when she was pregnant with James. Or the time we had a civil yet awkward and perfunctory run in with Draco Malfoy and his wife in Diagon Alley. Or if I were in one of my darker moods, I’d take to the shower, with only the company of my own hand to sooth me. I tried my damndest never to think of it when we made love, and mostly I succeeded. But these thoughts never left me not even when I became a father and the stakes on our family went up big time.

And then I had to go and let it slip, slip right off my bourbon soaked tongue; to the one person it would do the most damage to. Ginny’s face had been fuzzy by then, but I remember the look of shock when I answered her question. The little game we were playing of “what’s your most unconventional fantasy?” now seems like the worst decision we ever made. The little minx made me go first and the shock of my revelation meant we never even got to hers. Her silence was what made me concentrate on what I was saying. I think I saw disgust in her eyes for a moment, I can’t be sure. But my mind cleared a bit and I bolted out of the sofa we were cuddled up on. I think I stuttered some apologies and excuses. I still have the scar on my forearm where I fell against the door handle trying to get my broom out of the closet. Flying probably wasn’t the best idea that night, but I needed to get away.

When I finally came home, Ginny was already asleep. I thought of using an obliviate on her. I even held my trembling wand to her temple for a moment. Of course I couldn’t do it. Besides, who knew who she might have talked to while I was gone? The damage was already done. The next morning we said nothing to each other as we prepared to fetch James from Ron and Hermione’s place where he’d spent the night. They wanted to give us a night to ourselves, to spend some quality time together, just the two of us. James was almost a year, and they were just a floo-call away. We jumped at their offer. So much for that idea. I thought I must have just ruined our marriage for good.

We didn’t speak about it that whole day and a part of me wondered if maybe she hadn’t remembered since she was just as sloshed as I was the night before. But I could tell that she did remember. Of course I wouldn’t be that lucky. I saw her watch me out of the corner of her eye on more than one occasion. Even Hermione could tell she was distracted when we went over there. But she didn’t say a word to me about it. I hoped maybe we’d just not talk about it again, and in time she’d forget it. Again, of course I wouldn’t be that lucky.

The next day after we’d put James to bed, she joined me on the sofa like she usually would, only this time without her book. She wanted to talk. I knew that look. I denied everything at first. I used the “I was drunk” excuse. Then I tried to tell her it was an ill thought out joke; that I was trying to see if she’d ever think of cheating on me. Naturally she knew me better than that. After hours of denial, evasion and anger I finally had to give in and admit it all to her. She was a female Weasley, strong and persistent. I told her everything. How and when it started, what fantasies I had imagined since then. I was red faced and ill with embarrassment by the end of it all. She took me up to the bathroom where we showered together and then she proceeded to make gentle love to me in our bed, whispering that she loved me.

After that things went back to normal for a while. Looking back I think she did need time to come to terms with it all. And knowing what I know now, she probably needed time to decide whether to do something about it or not. I never imagined she would even consider it. I had thought that was that, I told her, and that was the end of it. Until the night of the ministry ball about two months later.

I don’t know what gave me away; the ballroom was so crowded I didn’t even think she could see me where I stood observing from the open balcony. But somehow she did see me and somehow she knew. I suppose that’s why she remained at his side for so long. Even though he’d mellowed somewhat since the war, even I could tell, from my far away vantage point, that he was starting to get a bit irritated with her constant chatter. She knew it too; she left him before she pushed it too far. But when she walked over to me, she had the look in her eye. That mischievous look that always seemed to set my heart racing.

It didn’t take much coaxing from her to get me to admit what I had been thinking about when I watched them together. And I don’t know if it was the new openness with which I could speak to her about it, or whether it was that man in particular, but something about that night’s imaginings brought more intensity to my fantasies than ever before. My mistake was telling her that as well. I saw it in her eyes the moment it happened, I saw her resolve set and I knew we were all doomed.

She lied to me that first time we went to him. She told me we were off to visit with a sickly aunt of hers. I suppose I could have recognised the place if I had tried hard enough, maybe a part of me wanted to be duped into this. When I saw his scowling face though, as he opened the door, it took all my strength not to grab her by the wrist and apparate right out of there. But she gave me that look and I had to follow her inside, all the while thinking how immensely horrible this idea was. He would surely kill us both, right there on his dusty old carpet. Poor little James.

It turned out Ginny had contacted him about wanting to set up a meeting. And for god knows what reason, he’s accepted. The look on his face at the time told me that he didn’t know the reason either. But he was hospitable enough. Offering us only a set of hard chair to sit on, no hot or cold beverages of course, not that I expected any less. While part of me wanted nothing more than to bolt with Ginny in toe, another part was morbidly curious about the way she’d handle this. Who wouldn’t want to know if anyone could successfully proposition Severus Snape? Especially with the bane of his existence for an audience.

Snape sneered and scowled heartedly at us, telling us to get on with our business there. And that’s exactly what my Ginny did. To this day I’m surprised to still have my head after her little stunt. Without another word she stood and waved her wand at herself, she was left in the most gorgeous forest green satin and black lace underwear I have ever seen. The half corset thingy (I don’t remember what it’s called even though she told me once) and barely there panties was unlike anything she’d owned before. I was struck dumb. Until Snape stood, equally as shocked. I was moved into action, seeing his bulging eyes taking in her form. I rose abruptly, moving to stand in front of her and holding my robes out at the sides to try and shield her from his gaze.

She pushed me hard to the side, I almost stumbled. “Don’t be an idiot harry,” she said as she kept her eyes on him.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Snape finally managed to get over his shock and was glaring at the both of us with such fury I could almost feel it burning my skin.

‘Harry and I would like to ask you a favour, professor.’

I must say I was highly impressed by my wife’s calm, standing there with her hands on her hips, almost posing in her delectable underwear and black high heeled sandals, and speaking as if they were discussing the weather. I could see Snape confusion and outrage but I could also see his eyes struggling to keep away from her breasts. Something in me stirred then.

‘Ginny, this is insane. Please let’s just go.’ I’m sure they heard the pleading in my tone. It was all too much for me, all I could think was; oh god, what if he agrees, what have I done?

Ginny looked over at me, and for the first time I saw doubt in her eyes. I should’ve pounced right then, I should have used that opportunity to talk her out of it, to tell her I didn’t really want this. But I didn’t, because even at that very moment, I was imagining what Snape’s fingers would look like hooked in that delicate black strap at her shoulder. My moment for saving us all was gone when she saw my eyes stray. Again I had damned us with my obscene thoughts.

‘If you agree professor, it would only be one night,’ Ginny continued, ‘one night with me at your disposal. We’re prepared to enter into a vow of secrecy if that’s what you’re worried about.’

I watched as Snape’s expression cleared. The fury was gone, but the suspicion was still there.

‘Is this some kind of joke? I am to believe that the boy wonder would let me, of all people, fuck his wife?’ he was looking at me now, trying to find some sign that this was all some kind of sick prank.

‘We’ve both wanted this for some time now professor.’ I couldn’t help shooting her a look at that lie. I’m sure it was a tell tale sign for someone like Snape, a rookie mistake, but I was shocked that she’d allow herself to be dragged down like that because of me.

‘Both?’ Snape raised his eyebrow at me.

‘Yes, harry will watch.’

Immediately I felt my face heat up like a furnace. And the look Snape was giving me wasn’t helping matters. I should have hexed that smirk off his face right then and there. It was as if he knew somehow, that this was all my idea. That something sick and twisted inside me wanted to watch another man taking my wife, while I sat on the side lines. I suppose that was why he turned his gaze back to Ginny and this time openly appraised her. His lascivious stare was unbearable, I wanted to stab his eyes out with a white hot poker, I wanted to unhook her bra so he could see more. I was driving myself insane.

‘I will send an owl with a time and place for you to meet with us. You can either show up or not, professor, it’s up to you. If you do not, you have my word that this meeting will never be spoken of again. By either of us. ’

I was still watching his penetrating eyes roam over my wife’s body, when I felt Ginny take hold of my hand. I watched her wave her wand at herself a second time that afternoon, and she was once again turned into my modest demur wife, in robes of dark beige.

‘Thank you for your time sir. We’ll see ourselves out.’ With that she pulled me towards the door. I looked at Snape one last time, not sure if I should say anything. He’s smirk was gone this time, replaced with an expression I couldn’t quite place. And then we were outside and apparating back to the normalcy of our lives, if anything could ever be normal again.
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Wearing the Horns