Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

What if Ginny is the only girl at Hogwarts?	By : Kujira Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 4145 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
CH.22 - Ginny and Harry
The common room was a comfortable hum of evening activity, a backdrop of crackling fire and murmured conversations. Ginny spotted him exactly where she’d expected: tucked into a secluded corner, a mess of parchment and his dog-eared copy of Advanced Potion-Making spread before him. Harry was frowning at a particularly complex instruction, his quill tapping an absent rhythm on the table.
Taking a steadying breath, she crossed the room and slid into the chair opposite him. “Drowning in Shrinking Solution again?” she asked, her voice light.
Harry looked up, and a genuine, relieved smile broke through his concentration. “Trying to. Snape’s going to skin me alive if this isn’t perfect tomorrow.”
They fell into an easy chat, first about the impossible homework, then about Quidditch, the conversation a familiar, meandering stream. But then the current shifted.
“You know,” Harry said, a mischievous glint in his eye that Ginny hadn't seen directed at her before. “You’ve been keeping the whole Quidditch team rather… busy this season. Not that we’re complaining.”
Ginny felt a blush warm her cheeks but held his gaze. “Someone has to keep you lot from getting too full of yourselves,” she retorted, a smile playing on her own lips.
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s just… impressive. The scheduling alone must be a nightmare.”
She couldn't help but laugh, the sound mixing with his. The embarrassment was there, but it was a shared one now, wrapped in a layer of fondness. The moment felt right, buoyed by the laughter and the flickering firelight.
“Harry,” she began, her tone shifting, becoming more serious. The noise of the common room seemed to fade around them. “All that… it’s been… amazing. But it’s also made me realize something else.” She took another breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. “I… I want to be your girlfriend.”
Harry’s eyes widened. The shock was plain on his face, but it was fleeting, washed away by a dawning, brilliant happiness. “Yes,” he said, the word quick and sure, as if he’d been waiting for a question he didn’t know how to ask. “I mean… I’d really like that, Ginny.” He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I think I’ve liked you since the start of term, I just…” He trailed off, shrugging, the famous Harry Potter inarticulateness making a welcome appearance. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Relief, warm and sweet, flooded through her. “Good. That’s… really good.” Then, summoning all her resolve, she laid out her new rule. “And if I’m your girlfriend… then I’ll only have sex with you.”
Harry let out a low whistle, a mock-serious expression on his face. “Well, that’s it then. I’m a dead man. Ron’s going to hex me into next week, and Seamus will probably try to transfigure my broom.”
They smiled at each other, a new, thrilling understanding passing between them. Feeling bold, Ginny decided to test the waters of their new reality. “So… just hypothetically,” she said, leaning in, “would you mind terribly if you had a girlfriend who… cheated?”
Harry’s smirk returned, broader this time, and he didn’t hesitate. “No,” he said, his green eyes darkening with a complexity she had never seen in him before. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. This was not the reaction she had anticipated.
Seeing her confusion, Harry’s voice dropped even lower, confessing a secret of his own. “I love having sex with you, Ginny. But… I also love watching you.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Watching you with the Giant Squid… or with Ron, and the others… I like it.”
A slow, understanding smile spread across Ginny’s face. The pieces clicked into place—his enthusiasm, the way he never seemed jealous, only more aroused. “The tentacles…?” she prompted, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yes,” Harry admitted, his gaze intense. “It’s… I don’t know. It’s just… really good.”
She laughed, a soft, incredulous sound. “You have a dark hobby, Harry Potter.”
“We’re both a bit twisted, I think,” he replied, his smirk softening into something more intimate. “We really are made for each other.”
Madam Pomfrey’s advice about less sex and more studying evaporated from her mind, utterly forgotten. They weren’t planning to limit anything; they were planning to curate it. They spent the next hour talking in low, excited tones, not about monogamy, but about collaboration. The goal was no longer to have less sex, but to have the right kind of sex. And as they leaned their heads together, weaving plans into the night, it was clear their relationship was not going to be normal, but they don't care in the least.
__
The fire in the Gryffindor common room had burned low, and the last of the stragglers had stumbled off to bed, leaving them in a pool of warm, intimate silence. The initial confession had given way to a deeper, more conspiratorial sharing. Ginny, emboldened by his acceptance, decided to unburden herself of another secret.
“There’s… something else,” she began, her voice a little hesitant. “Hagrid.”
Harry, who had been tracing patterns on the table, looked up. He knew, of course. The memory of her monotone confession in Snape’s dungeon was seared into his mind. But he kept his face a mask of intrigued surprise. “Hagrid? Really?”
Ginny nodded, a faint blush returning. “He’s… massive. In every way. He just picks me up and… uses me. It’s terrifying and incredible all at once.”
A slow grin spread across Harry’s face. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock admiration. “Ginny Weasley, you are the bravest person I know. A true Gryffindor.” The irony in his tone was thick, but it was fond, accepting. It was the exact opposite of the disgust she had feared.
When the clock chimed midnight, Harry’s expression turned from fond to fiercely possessive, a new fire in his eyes. “You know,” he said, his voice low and husky, “to celebrate… my brilliant, brave, and slightly mad girlfriend… I want to watch.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “Watch? Watch what?”
“Watch Hagrid,” Harry said, his gaze unwavering, “fuck your brains out. I want to see him treat you like his personal sex toy.”
Ginny threw her head back and laughed, a real, free sound that echoed in the quiet room. “You really are twisted, Potter. I thought you would be fucking me all night tonight, me becoming your new girlfriend and all. Instead, you want to watch your new girlfriend get violated with a giant cock eh? Alright. Let’s go.”
They slipped under the silken folds of the Invisibility Cloak, a familiar, close-pressed tangle of limbs and whispered breaths as they navigated the dark castle and the dew-soaked grass toward the gamekeeper’s hut.
At the door, Ginny squeezed his hand and then stepped out from under the cloak, leaving Harry as a silent, unseen observer in the moonlit night. Hagrid answered her knock, his enormous frame filling the doorway. He looked down at her, and a big, knowing smile spread across his bearded face.
“All righ’, Ginny?” he rumbled, stepping aside to let her in. The door shut, and Harry pressed close to a window, the cloak perfectly concealing him.
Inside, there was no preamble. Hagrid’s hands, each as large as her torso, found her waist. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout yeh,” he grunted, his voice a low thunder in the cozy cabin.
What followed wasn’t making love. It was a raw, physical demonstration of scale and power. Hagrid didn’t so much fuck her as he used her body for his own release. He lifted her with terrifying ease, his calloused hands gripping her hips. With a single, practiced motion, he positioned her over his lap where he sat on his large bed, the sheer size of his erect cock a daunting, glistening pillar. He held her suspended with one arm, while his other hand guided himself.
Then he began to move her. He set a brutal, piston-like rhythm, driving her small, lithe body down onto his length, then pulling her up, only to slam her down again. Ginny’s moans were ripped from her throat, loud and unrestrained. The feeling of being utterly helpless, a living sheath for his immense pleasure, was intoxicating. And knowing that Harry was just feet away, watching from the darkness, sent waves of illicit pleasure crashing through her that were even more intense than the physical sensation itself. She was a plaything, and she was a spectacle, and the combination was utterly overwhelming.
For Harry, watching from his concealed vantage point, it was a revelation more powerful than any spell. The sight of Ginny, her back arched, her fingers digging into Hagrid’s massive forearm, her cries of “Yes! Hagrid! More!”—it was the most potent arousal he had ever experienced. It was the ultimate form of possession—to own the experience so completely that you could delegate the physical act itself. He could hear the wet, slapping sounds of their union, a lewd counterpoint to the grunts and moans. He watched the raw, unvarnished power of it, the complete surrender of her body, and the sheer auditory proof of her ecstasy. His own body reacted with a sudden, violent shudder. A hot, damp patch bloomed in his trousers as he climaxed, a quiet, helpless gasp escaping his lips. It was better than fucking her himself. It was pure, undiluted voyeurism, and it was perfect.
Ginny, lost in the dual thrill of the violation and the exhibition, knew in that moment that this was what they were. Not a normal boyfriend and girlfriend, but partners in a dark and thrilling game where her body was the playing field and his gaze was the prize.
- 21
- 22
- 23
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

What if Ginny is the only girl at Hogwarts?