Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

BeWitched, Body and Soul	By : SiriusWriter Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 5200 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not make any money from this fanfic. I do not own Harry Potter or any part of this world, nor do I own any part of "Pride and Prejudice." Anything you recognize belongs either to Jane Austen or JKR.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Ginny threw herself into the Common Room, streaking across to the far window where Hermione sat in a flash of scarlet. She was not sure she even formed coherent words as she frantically grabbed Hermione’s wrist and tugged her up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, not pausing to answer the older girl’s questions until they were safely locked in Hermione’s room. Once she tried to explain herself, however, she found the words would not come.

“Ginny…” Hermione started cautiously, “what happened?” When Ginny continued her impression of a suffocating goldfish, Hermione probed further, “If it’s about what Malfoy said, you know you really shouldn’t let that bother—”

“Malfoy?” Ginny finally found her voice, choked though it was with disbelief. “I don’t give a flying fuck what Malfoy said; I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” She growled, pacing in front of her mirror and trying to calm the heat in her cheeks as she thought for a moment of Malfoy’s insult and his cold silver gaze before turning back to the crisis at hand. “No, that’s not what this is about,” she said, sitting back down next to Hermione. She took a deep breath, “I think Dean just proposed.”

“What?” Hermione asked, certain she had misheard.

“Okay, maybe not proposed. But we were walking back from Quidditch together and he starts going on about how great we are together as Chasers and how we should try dating again and his mum is trying to get him to give up being a wizard and he thinks we’d get on okay—” Ginny spoke frantically, twisting her hands in her lap.

“Wait, so he wants to get back together?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide. “Well that’s ridiculous. I mean, I mean of course you should try it, I suppose, if that’s what you want,” she retracted, trying to gage Ginny’s response. When she received nothing more, however, she became slightly bolder. “It’s not exactly as if the two of you were a perfect couple, fighting over small things and always at each other’s throats. Properly angry, I mean, not just bickering. You didn’t seem all that happy with him, at least to me.” She said reasonably; she gently untangled Ginny’s hands and met her eyes.

“No. You’re right of course,” Ginny said, her senses returning at last, “I was just so shocked, I couldn’t think, but yeah we were bloody miserable together.” She finished lamely, trying to calm her frayed nerves. “It’s just so weird. I mean, how many other people are going to start getting engaged soon?” Hermione shook her head, either unable or unwilling to consider an answer.

“Well I’m glad you’re—” Hermione’s words were cut off for the second time that afternoon, this time by a glass-shattering squeal that burst through the doorway with Lavender Brown, Parvati following closely behind her.

“It’s announced!” Lavender shrieked, brandishing a horribly fuchsia flyer; the girl ran to her closet and began tearing through her clothes in near hysteria.

“Nuppington’s announced the first ball!” Parvati explained, plopping down on her bed and examining the purpley parchment closely. “It’s a costume ball, on Halloween!” She beamed, oblivious to the looks of horror she received from the two girls across from her.

“I don’t know how I’m expected to find something decent to wear in that time!” Lavender said, having unsuccessfully emptied her entire wardrobe into the middle of the room. “We’ve only got one trip to Hogsmeade before then, and I can’t possibly show up in the same thing as someone else! Though I suppose I could send away for something from a catalog…” Lavender pondered, holding up a gold sequined top (or was it a dress? Ginny certainly hoped not) to the mirror before discarding it.

“Merlin’s shorts, Lav, I just realized I haven’t charted my sign that far yet!” Parvati shrieked, bolting upright. “We’ve got to go see Trelawney and make sure there’s nothing disastrous in the stars that weekend!” Lavender immediately stopped admiring her rear end in the mirror and the two set off at once, giggling all the way down the dormitory stairs.

Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other before examining the leaflet Parvati had left on her bed. It confirmed their fears; a dance was indeed planned for all 6^th and 7^th years for Halloween night, and attendance, it noted in a cheerfully curly scroll, was mandatory. The girls groaned and Ginny tossed aside the parchment in disgust. “Now they’re forcing me to shove myself into a scrap of spandex to marry some idiot I couldn’t give two Hippogriff shites about?” Ginny turned her wand on the flyer and watched with relish as sparks scarred its glittery cover.

“Apparently,” replied Hermione, putting out the small fire.

“She could have at least been original. I mean, a fancy dress party on Halloween? How cliché is that?”

A fortnight later found the two girls trudging down Hogsmeades’ high road, eyeing the robes shop in the distance with trepidation. Ron had elected to stay at the Three Broomsticks with Seamus and Dean, who claimed they would be attending the ball dressed as Muggles. “Not a bad idea,” Ginny muttered as they came at last to Wenda’s Wondrous Wizarding Wears; the store was bursting with Hogwarts girls, each desperate to find a costume that would convey sex appeal without marking her as a slut. Ginny put on a brave face for Hermione, though, and the two began to dig through the hovering clothes racks. “I’m out of your price range!” A gold-belted gypsy costume screeched at her when she attempted to lift it off its hanger. Ginny scoffed, rolling her eyes at the silly thing.

“Maybe we should just go, Hermione. I can always be Gwenog Jones, I already have a Holyhead Harpies jersey…” Ginny said, but when she glanced around Hermione was nowhere to be seen. “Oh flobberworms,” Ginny cursed before plunging into the hoard of girls in search of her friend.

Five minutes of clawing her way through the store did not produce Hermione, but she did run into Megan, who thanked her again for the Chaser spot.

“Yeah, of course,” Ginny said, shifting a ball gown out of the way so she could see what Megan was holding. She was shocked to see a sage green chiffon fairy costume in her friend’s hands. “That seems a bit out of character,” she observed, raising an eyebrow.

Megan shrugged, replying, “Yeah, bit girly, but it’ll do for one night of dancing. What are you wearing?” Ginny shrugged and looked helplessly at the piles of tulle and silk. Megan held up a slinky black vampire costume in suggestion, and rolled her eyes at Ginny’s snort. “Well you’ve got to pick something; you might as well look good in it.”

There was truth in this, so Ginny conceded to try on the ridiculous vampire get-up. Megan deemed this cheap-looking once Ginny had it on and set off in search of a kneazle costume she’d seen earlier. Unwilling to spend the night coughing up hairballs, however, Ginny bravely stuck her hand into one of the racks and came up with a witch’s Robin Hood costume. Contrary to Muggle belief, Robin Hood had been a 13^th century wizard who had used Smuggling Spells to steal from Muggle royalty and provide impoverished wizards and Muggles alike with gold. ‘Bit of a nutter, really,’ Ginny thought as she stepped back into her changing stall and pulled on the costume. The skirt and hat were of a lush, forest green velvet that made her hair stand out even more against her pale skin, and though she felt the cream peasant top under the brown bustier was a bit frilly, she generally approved. She drew the curtain back and received Megan’s tut of approval. “Great colour,” she said, “plus your boobs look amazing in it.” Ginny examined herself in the mirror again; it was a bit more cleavage than she would normally care to show, but she could always raise the top later.

She and Megan battled their way to the register, where they found Hermione purchasing a flowing ivory gown. “It’s Clio,” Hermione explained, “the Greek muse of history.” She gestured to the scrolls that accompanied the dress, but received no recognition from the other two girls. “Well, it fits anyways,” Hermione justified, and she and Ginny bade goodbye to Megan and headed for the Three Broomsticks to meet Ron. They found him sitting with Dean and Luna; the latter was happily humming to herself and sipping a butterbeer thoughtfully. Ginny assumed by virtue of the fact that Ron was chatting pleasantly with Dean that he had failed to mention his earlier proposition to her brother. Shoving that thought aside, she took a seat next to Luna and called for two more drinks.

“Have you been snogging?” Luna asked Ginny abruptly; three pairs of eyes snapped to her rapidly reddening face as she choked on her gulp of butterbeer.

“Why on earth would you say that?!” She coughed, trying to avoid Ron’s accusatory glance and Dean’s look of betrayal.

“You seem very restless, and I was wondering if perhaps you’d swallowed any Giradase juice this morning,” she said dreamily. “Giradase fruit is known for its highly erotic properties,” she added when the others continued to stare at her.

“Unless someone’s been spiking my morning Pumpkin Juice, I think I’m in the clear, Luna,” Ginny gave a forced laugh, and mercifully Hermione turned the conversation to the new Defense professor.

Ginny was exhausted when they finally made it back to the castle at dusk; skipping dinner entirely, she decided instead to take a hot shower and go to bed. Unfortunately the girls’ shower room was anything but peaceful, as the third years ran around in their skivvies excitedly discussing their first Hogsmeade weekend. Grumbling, Ginny snatched her clothes and retreated to the Prefect’s Bath.

She hadn’t been in the private bathroom all year, and had forgotten how opulent it was with its marble floor and stained glass windows. She sighed as she dropped down into the steaming water, her bones drinking in the heat. It took her a moment to find her favorite tap, the one that oozed orchid scented oil that made the water (and her skin) feel like naked silk.

Allowing the bath oil to penetrate her pores, she thought back to Luna’s comment and let out a humorless laugh. “Am I really that palpably horny?” She asked aloud, realizing that it had been nearly six months since she’d gotten so much as a proper snog. She thought back to Dean’s fingertips on her forehead a few weeks ago; lightly touching the spot, she gently ran her fingertips over her plush lips, remembering his slow, powerful kisses. Harry had been better with his touch, however, and she allowed her hands to trace the tops of her breasts as she imagined his soft but powerful caress, stroking her nipples just so. Ginny let out a small moan and felt her head fall back onto the edge of the tub, letting her hands roam freely, grasping purposefully at breasts she could not even begin to engulf in her small palms. Hands—strong, masculine hands—were touching her, tenderly but forcefully luring small groans from her pouted lips. “Yes, feel me,” she whispered, egging herself on as she imagined her mystery lover brushing lightly over her hips until he unexpectedly ran a finger across her lower lips, a touch so slight she could barely feel it. It was not her own small hands that began slowly teasing her clit, she imagined, but rougher, long fingered ones that stemmed from arms with lean muscles like thick ropes, supporting her, holding her in a smoldering, secure embrace. A finger dipped inside her, teasing her for a few moments before it pushed all the way in and she moaned again, the perfumed water splashing as it went in and out, bringing her closer and closer to an edge over which she was bound to fall. “More,” she pleaded as if in fervent prayer, and with the next thrust she saw a flash of hot silver and she found herself pulled down, down into the deep abyss of pleasure and rolling ecstasy.

She felt her mind start to emerge from her orgasm and allowed herself to revel in the ebbing bliss. Sighing, she pulled the plug from the bottom of the tub and quickly wrapped her towel around herself. Ginny couldn’t be sure, distracted in her own fantasy as she was, but she could have sworn she’d heard the door slam shut just as she came.

A/N: Things are heating up at last! And they will definitely be staying that way for the next chapter. Stay tuned, and please rate and review!
- 5
- 6
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

BeWitched, Body and Soul