Gamble Everything For Love Chapter 7
Ginny couldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t sleep, until Hermione woke up…until she could see Hermione’s eyes and hear her voice. Ginny sat with Harry on the Grangers’ settee and leafed through a stack of dental magazines that sat atop the coffee table. Distracted by Hermione’s situation, she wasn’t really paying attention to what she was looking at. Harry flipped idly through the channels on the Telly, dozing off every now and again only to wake up abruptly. Ginny vowed to wait all day and night if she had to, not wanting to miss the moment when Hermione fully returned to them. The Grangers had long since gone to sleep, or at least retired to their bedroom; Ginny could still hear their hushed voices behind the door.
Suddenly, Harry’s head popped up as he grabbed his wand. He looked about frenetically before calming down quickly.
“Just another jolt. I swear I’m hearing things,” he laughed, running his hand through his already disheveled hair.
Just then, Ginny heard it too; a soft rustle of voices and a light creaking of a bed. Her eyes met Harry’s as their faces broke out in identical grins.
“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed, leaping up and heading toward the stairs. She rushed up the steps as fast as she could, hearing Harry’s quick footsteps behind her.
She stopped at the door as she heard Ron’s voice. She placed a hand firmly over Harry’s just as he grabbed the doorknob, stopping him from barging in. When it seemed quiet again, she quietly rapped on the light oak door. There was a soft moan followed by heavy footsteps. Ron opened the door, and Ginny was struck by how red and puffy his eyes were. She reached out to him on instinct.
“S’alright. I’m fine,” Ron said.
“Is Hermione okay? We heard voices,” Harry said.
“I’m okay, Harry,” came her rough, strangled voice as Ron rushed back to the bed.
“Shhh, love, don’t strain your voice,” Ron said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
A calmness entered Ginny that she hadn’t felt since the day before Nagini attacked her father. Seeing her brother hold her best friend had seemed to break open something in her, and Ginny finally felt like everything could be alright for once.
“Aguamenti!” Ginny whispered, directing her wand to an empty glass on Hermione’s desk. She carefully brought it over, and Hermione mouthed a ‘Thank You’ as Ron’s hand ran comforting circles over her back. Harry stood, frozen, gripping the post of Hermione’s bed so tightly that his knuckles were white.
“Harry, mate, is everything okay?” Ron asked cautiously, but Ginny knew everything that was racing through his mind. She knew his heart too well after all this time. Anger, guilt and relief twisted around him, and he had no outlet for any of it.
Ginny longed to reach out and hold him, to comfort the bevy of emotions flowing out of him and give his heart somewhere to rest. But something stopped her, and had been stopping her since they had chosen to make love despite all of that uncertainty surrounding the search for Hermione. She felt she didn’t deserve him until she could earn Hermione’s friendship back. Now she was torn between her own irrational feelings and her need to comfort Harry.
“Is it ever going to end?” Harry asked through gritted teeth. “You’ve already been through so much.” He looked forlornly at Hermione’s injuries.
Everyone seemed to move to speak at the same time when the door opened again and Hermione’s mother cried out and ran to her.
“Mom…” She whispered, leaning into her mother’s embrace. Ron got up slowly so her father could have a place on the other side of Hermione. The small family simply held each other and rocked for a few sweet moments while Ron stared quizzically at Harry. Harry just shook his head and averted his eyes from Ron’s.
“How are you feeling?” Hermione’s father asked, putting a hand on her cheek.
“I’m okay. My muscles are really sore though. It hurts to move,” she said, her voice becoming slightly clearer.
“I’ll get a hold of Charlie and Cho, see if they have a potion or something,” Harry said, retreating quickly from the room without so much as a backwards glance.
“In the meantime, why don’t you take a nice hot bath?” Hermione’s mom asked softly, getting up and starting the tap in the adjoining bathroom before Hermione could respond.
“It does sound really good,” she sighed, trying desperately to follow her mother, but suddenly giving up as she yelped in pain.
Ron rushed forward and scooped Hermione up effortlessly. She met his eyes as her arm draped over his shoulder, then smiled slightly, and tucked her head into the protective crook of his neck. Ginny looked over at Dr. Granger, who seemed slightly uncomfortable although he was clearly not angry.
Ginny followed Ron and Hermione into the bathroom, anticipating that she might be needed. After Ron sat Hermione on the lid of the toilet and closed the door, Hermione cast a spell removing her clothing. She tried to rise, but she found her legs wobbly.
“Oh this is embarrassing,” she whispered. Ginny turned as Hermione grabbed a towel and draped it over herself. “I think I need some help into the tub.”
Before Dr. Granger could move to help her daughter, Ginny said “Wingardium Leviosa” and carefully moved Hermione the short distance to the tub. Hermione quickly swiped her wand over the water to created miniature mountains of bubbles.
“Magic still floors me sometimes,” Dr. Granger smiled and exited the room. Ginny went to follow.
“Ginny, could you stay? I need to talk to you,” Hermione said softly.
Ginny sat on the stool near the vanity mirror and watched Hermione as she closed her eyes and sank lower into the bubbles, her bruises and wounds disappearing into the pink water.
“I’m sorry Ginny, it’s just that I really don’t want to be alone right now,” Hermione said, looking worried.
“That’s okay, just don’t ask me to wash your bony feet,” Ginny answered, earning a splash of water. “Seriously though, how are you feeling?”
“Honestly, I’m mostly grateful. I’m just glad to be alive. This whole thing has made me a bit more anxious, like I’m in a dream. I’m afraid they’ll come after me, or I’ll wake up and still be there, cold…hurt…scared,” she said, seeming to shrink in the bubbles.
Ginny could feel tears coming to her eyes. She desperately hoped that Hermione would feel safe again and that she would be okay.
Hermione pulled the ends of her hair out of the water, her lips shaking. “But I’d rather not talk about it just yet. What is going on with you and Harry?” Hermione asked.
Ginny mused that if she hadn’t been in the water, her hands may have been on her hips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ginny insisted, fiddling with a non-existent thread on her jeans.
“Oh come off it! You were looking at him like you wanted to say something important, and he was avoiding everyone’s eyes,” she said pointedly.
“You know, just one of his moods,” Ginny replied flippantly, also not meeting Hermione’s eyes.
“No, I don’t know. I learned a lot about Harry this year, and that dark look in his eyes usually means a storm is raging in his head,” Hermione said, her voice quieting in concern. “Something happened between you two, it’s written all over your faces.”
Ginny could feel her jaw tighten and her facial muscles stung as she fought her body’s impulse to cry at all the emotions dancing in her chest. Her eyes were closing, filling with tears. Finally, she let out a small sob that she tried to push back in with a hand over her mouth.
“Oh Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed as Ginny heard a rush of water. Hermione was attempting to get out of the tub to comfort Ginny.
“No, Hermione! Stay there. I’m fine,” Ginny said, feeling even guiltier…if that was possible. She took some tissue and dabbed at her eyes in an attempt to look less tragic. “These are my silly issues. After all you’ve been through, we don’t need to even broach this.”
“Stop deflecting. You and Harry are my closest friends and I love you both. And this…” Hermione paused and it looked to Ginny as if she was trying to fight back her own tears. “This makes me feel normal. I want to feel normal…real.”
“Then you don’t want to hear this,” Ginny stated, looking sadly at her friend’s broken body.
“Did I do something?” Hermione said, genuinely worried.
“Harry and I…we had…we made,” Ginny stumbled over her words.
“Ginny, that has the potential to be such a beautiful experience. What went wrong?” She said, now leaning over the edge of the tub to face Ginny.
“Nothing. It felt amazing and he had almost died…again. I needed him. I needed to know he was alive, real and actually next to me. I needed to know we could make it,” Ginny said loudly, stumbling over her words yet again. Thoughts fell out of her mouth as quickly and unwelcome as her tears.
“I know how you feel,” Hermione said, pulling her wet, bruised knees up to her chin. “But surely this strengthened your relationship or at least your security in it?” Hermione said, looking apprehensive.
“Hermione, can you think of when we could have made love?” Ginny whispered, clenching her jaw and staring out of the tiny bathroom window.
There was a long and painful silence. Ginny’s arms ached to clasp Hermione’s hands and beg her forgiveness, but she couldn’t move for fear something inside her would break. But before either could say a word, a light knock snapped both of their attention.
“Hermione, I have your potion,” Harry said from the other side of the door.
“I’m covered, so you can come in,” she said, her voice almost completely back to normal.
Harry walked in slowly, bright blue liquid in his hand, and his glasses immediately fogged up. He took them off, as they were useless in the steam-filled room. He stumbled slightly as he handed Hermione the potion, and Ginny reached out and guided him to a seat.
“I didn’t even see you, Gin,” he said, squinting to study her face. “Are you alright?” He asked, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and Hermione.
“Ginny, you have nothing to be sorry for. Yes, by practical standards and social norms it was a bit selfish,” Hermione paused, clearing her throat. “But I would have done the exact same thing,” she whispered, her gaze far off.
“No. You wouldn’t have, and that’s the point!” Harry suddenly shouted, rising up in the steam. “When Ron left, you were in pain, the worst pain I have ever seen you in, but you didn’t give up. If you hadn’t followed me up those stairs at Bagshot’s, everything could be totally different right now. You had a choice, you stuck by me, and I didn’t give you the same courtesy when I was given the chance.”
Hermione was quiet for a moment while Ginny held her breath, waiting for a lecture…for anything to end the passing of silent seconds.
“When Ron left, I wanted to go with him. To sleep next to him in a warm bed and just enjoy that we were alive…” Hermione said solemnly.
“But you didn’t,” Harry started through clenched teeth.
“My point is: we’re all weak. We all have moments when our hearts overpower our heads and even our souls,” Hermione’s voice began to quake in a new way. “When he came back…I wanted so much to grab him and never let go, and I hated both myself and him for feeling that way…as you could tell by my reaction. But after Bellatrix, well…after that…I never kept an eye off him, and I clung to him whenever I could. It’s a desperate feeling, coming so close to loss,” Hermione said, openly crying. “I can’t say I would have been so rash, but I’m not like you two,” she said, sobbing into her bubbles.
Ginny felt Harry’s hand close over hers.
Another light sniff was heard through the steam in the doorway, and Ron’s hair appeared in the fog.
“Oh, ‘Mione. I’m so sorry I left,” he said, although the gravity and emotion of the moment was weakened by how comical he looked with one hand pressed over his eyes while his other struggled to find the edge of the tub.
“I’m covered, Ron,” she said, laughter now shaking her voice. “I’m a bit soggy and feel much better.,” she said, unplugging the drain while Harry tossed her his cloak (he was still in the habit of keeping it on him.)
When Hermione appeared again, she was dressed in a new pair of pajamas and drying her hair. Ron didn’t take his eyes off of her.
Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and led him out of the bathroom undetected.
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Ron watched in a slight daze as Hermione vigorously toweled off her hair. The bruises on her arms had almost faded, but some light scars still dotted places on her body. Ron remembered how he found he. In fact, he scarcely thought of anything else, and wondered if her legs and abdomen already looked as fully healed. She could walk, though still with a slight limp, and she hung her towel on a polished metal rack.
She caught him staring and met his eyes. He let go of any fears he had and allowed his impulses to guide his hand to her cheek. She leaned into him and closed her eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, anxious that she might still be in pain but managing to hide it well.
“I feel much better,” she said, and smiled in a way that didn’t reach her eyes. Ron’s heart sank, but his expectations weren’t dashed, he knew it would be a while before she could be okay. Ron folded his arms around her and ran his hands in circles over her back.
“What about you?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” he laughed slightly. “I’m not the one who was hurt.”
“We never got a chance to talk about what happened that night at the pub,” she started, looking concerned. Her concern hurt Ron. He felt like he wasn’t being good to her, wasn’t’ taking care of her right, and that’s why her mind was on that night in the pub.
“That’s nothing…it’s not important,” he said, trying to move out of the now stifling enclosure of the small bathroom.
“You nearly killed someone for spilling whiskey on me,” she said softly.
“And you nearly got killed!” Ron yelled, self-hatred rising up again.
“I want to know, Ron. I want to know what’s inside of you! Yes I nearly died, but it gave me a chance to prioritize. I don’t want to miss a single piece of you,” she said, fresh tears in her eyes.
Ron immediately rushed forward to brush her tears away, but Hermione turned from him. He had a choice: to take the risk and tell her everything, or to keep her safe from the dark clouds in his mind. He saw her sitting on her bed, her hands on her face, trying to suppress tears. She bared herself for him, and he had known her darkest moments. It was time for him to share it with her.
“You screamed,” he choked.
“What?”
“When that bloke spilled his drinks on you, you screamed,” Ron said, fighting with himself to let the words out.
Hermione had a knowing look on her face, as though her suspicions had been correct, but she urged him to go on. He didn’t want her to know about which moment plagued his nightmares, which one ate at him every time he saw her face, and which one he’d never forgive himself for. She didn’t deserve to relive that…no one did. But she was looking at him anxiously, like her whole world depended on him letting her in, and he couldn’t deny her anything…not ever again.
“I have nightmares. I’m pounding against the stone, I can’t get out, and you’re screaming. That bitch is shouting curses at you and you’re still screaming. She is killing you!” Ron exclaimed. He could feel his body shake under the weight of his worst memory.
He felt Hermione stiffen at the mention of that night. He wrapped his hand around hers, both to apologize for bringing it up, and to show her that it would be okay.
“Ron, it’s okay now. I’m okay and I’m going to stay by your side,” she said, her voice catching in her throat.
“Is it? I was almost too late again. I can’t lose you, and I can’t bear seeing you hurt.” He said, pleading with himself and the universe to let him keep it together.
“But you weren’t too late, and we’re here together now. When I heard you yelling for me, I was strong enough to keep going just so I would be able to see you again. And when I was in that cell and heard you were alive, it gave me the resolve to go on. Your patronus! It kept Runcorn out of my head. Isn’t that enough?” she said, leaning her head on Ron’s shoulder.
“No. I want to know you’re okay. I want to be able to look at you and know I’ll see you again tomorrow. That uncertainty still haunts me,” Ron said, not even caring anymore that he was telling her everything. It just felt good to see her eyes and know she understood.
“Id’ do anything to be certain too,” she whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
Ron leaned forward and kissed her softly, trying to express his feelings with his kiss, since they were failing in his throat. He heard her breath catch and in the next second, she was kissing him so deeply their teeth knocked together.
Her body pressed him against the bed as her tongue fought it’s way into his mouth. A jolt of electricity shot through Ron causing him to moan loudly. He’d wanted this for so long, and now she was straddling him with her hands fisted in his shirt. Ron didn’t understand how she could go from so downtrodden and hurt to eager so quickly, but his mind fogged over as her hands struggled desperately with the button on his jeans.
He reached out to touch her hair, to let his fingers drown in her wild curls. But Hermione pulled her head away, dipping down to kiss along his neck, and Ron again stifled a moan, as his erection grew even more pronounced and painful. He had to struggle to keep from thrusting up toward her wiggling hips. He placed his hands on her thighs, rubbing them up and down her firm, slender legs. However, her hands covered his and removed them from her body, pinning them down over his head.
He looked at her face with a mixture of shock and arousal as she ground her body against his. Her eyes were dark and her jaw set in an angry determination. He wrapped his hand around her cheek, but she again moved away. When he went to protest his words turned into a sudden moan as her hand found his erection through is trousers.
Hermione reached her hand under his drawers and wrapped her slender fingers around his throbbing cock.
“Fuck! Hermione!” Ron murmured, his mind spinning in circles. Her hands felt exquisite and he longed to feel her in the same way. He reached his hand out to cup her bum, but she pulled I away from her. He was starting to feel awful for loving what she was doing, but hating the circumstances. She was pulling away from him, something was wrong, but he just couldn’t let his mind settle on anything at the moment. As her finger danced across the top of his head, Ron yelled out. He worried that if he didn’t stop that second, he might never stop, and he had to touch her and savor her.
“Hermione, stop,” he moaned, angry with himself as he did so. She looked up at him, her nostrils flaring and her face red. Ron wondered why she looked so mad.
“Come here love,” he said, sitting up and putting an arm around her to scoot her closer to him. She winced when he touched her. “Oh, are you still hurt?” Ron asked, sitting up all the way so he could examine her wounds a little more, but she shook her head.
“Hermione?” Ron said, beginning to catch on. “Why wont’ you let me touch you?” Ron was hurt and very worried. He was afraid she blamed him for what happened to her, and that now his affection might repulse her.
All of a sudden, tears started falling from her eyes and she buried her head in her hands. Ron decided to ignore his current worries and put a tentative arm around her. Thankfully, she leaned into him in response, encouraging him to pull her closer still.
“You didn’t do anything, Ron. It’s me. I just want all of this to be over and behind us. I’m scared because one Death Eater or another seems to intervene every time we’re together. I’m terrified that one of them will try to ruin every romantic moment I have in the future - just like Runcorn almost…he just…” she sputtered unable to finish her thought. “So when you were telling me how you felt, I just wanted to get him out of my head and my soul no matter what. He almost took something that I have been saving for you,” she whispered, an apprehensive and fearful gaze meeting his eyes.
Rage coursed through Ron as he remembered Hermione, nearly naked, with that horrid Death Eater leering over her. He did everything he could to swallow his rage and let Hermione sob her heart out on his shoulder. He desperately wanted her to feel safe…and, perhaps at some time in the future, happy.
“So when you were here, holding me, I desperately wanted to get better -- to be able to be with you. But everything felt wrong. I tried to hard to get that cell, that face, and those hands out of my head. But every time you touched me, all I could feel was him. It was like I was still in his chains,” she sobbed, her voice cracking from the awful stress and ever-present tears of the last twenty-four hours.
Ron removed his hand from her shoulder with a powerful jerk, fearful that his touch would be nothing but another form of torture for her. He couldn’t stand to see her suffering, but it was even worse to know that he was causing it.
Hermione jumped when Ron’s arm pulled away. “Please,” was all she whispered.
“I don’t want you to feel that way. I don’t want to hurt you,” Ron answered, reading the desperation in her eyes.
“Ron, I love you and I don’t want this to happen. I can’t allow Runcorn to break me like this,” she said, her hands clutched in her lap. “That’s why I started kissing you in the first place. It felt like fighting back. But that’s not fair. It shouldn’t be like this.”
“It’s okay, love, we’ll work this out. In fact, I have a few ideas,” he said, pulling her close despite her involuntary cringe. He knew that they were both strong and that they could work things out as long as they had each other.
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“Could we go somewhere to talk?” Harry asked Ginny, pulling her out of her daze of reflection.
Ginny just nodded, unable to really find all of the words she wanted to say to him. He took her hand, and Apparated them away.
They landed with a soft ‘crack’ in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Ginny put on her best mask, and hid the anxious anticipation behind a face filled with skepticism. She quirked her eyebrow and looked at Harry, waiting for him to say something.
But Harry didn’t say a word, instead pulling her close to him and pressing his lips to hers. His kiss was urgent, and his breathing so rushed, that Ginny became caught up. She let her tongue dance on his lips until he opened his mouth. His hands roamed over her body frantically, his heart pounding against her own chest. They stumbled backwards until they hit a wall.
Harry pulled back, calming himself down. He nuzzled her neck, kissing her much more carefully. Ginny wasn’t fooled, as his shoulders were still tense where she gripped them, his body quivering, and his erection already pressing against her.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t go that long without touching you, not ever again,” he moaned, his hand reaching up her shirt, as his breath glided across her neck. “Forgive me, Ginny
“Don’t shut me out again. Just let me in. I can’t be left so far away from your heart again,” Ginny said, thrusting her hips against his.
He moaned softly.
“Never again. I love you. I love you so much. I can’t be away from you, even for a day,” he said, pulling her shirt over her head. His warm lips quickly found their way back to her flesh, as he slid the straps of her bra down to kiss and nip at her shoulders.
She dug her hands deeply into his hard back, gaining enough leverage to thrust up against him again.
His hands firmly cupped her breasts, and he kissed the rounded tops of each one, taking the time to breathe her in there. His green eyes were so bright, that Ginny thought they were going to light up the whole room. His breath felt so hot. It was like he was burning for her. She gripped his shirt and he kissed down her abdomen. She was beginning to be so overcome, she couldn’t figure out how to get him shirtless fast enough. Finally, she just tore through his tee shirt, leaving it in shreds.
Harry let out a rough growl, feverishly trying to get the buttons undone on her jeans. Eventually he had her completely naked, and his hands were moving slowly up and down her body. Ginny was relieving Harry of the rest of his clothes when he started kissing her lips softly, and she savored his taste on her mouth.
“I want you so badly, Ginny. I want you right now.” He murmured, his thumbs gliding across her nipples.
“Get on with it then, Potter!” she groaned, letting her went cunt slide along his body. He slid two fingers into her, and she cried out, the electricity moving through her threatening to already turn her straining limbs to jelly. He kept her pressed against the wall, his fingers moving in and out of her, and his thumb caressing her clit until she cried out for more. Ginny wanted him to fill her so badly she thought she might fall to pieces if she didn’t have him.
“Gin, love…are you…is everything….” He panted, his mouth open against the pulse point on her neck. Ginny knew that he was making sure he wouldn’t hurt her this time. She was so wet and wanted him so bad, it wasn’t going to be an issue. She ground against him harder, causing the tip of his penis to slide along her lips. Harry moaned loudly, grabbed her hips, and lifted her, startling Ginny in a wonderful way.
As soon as her bottom hit the table, and she was holding her body up on her elbows, Harry thrust into her. He was much harder this time, and she loved it. She let her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to her, and he groaned with delight. She couldn’t thrust up into him, as his hips were holding her down to the table, and her body’s strength was focused on holding herself upright so she could watch his beautiful face. Because of this, Harry was able to grip her hips and fuck her by every definition. His pace was hard and fast, and Ginny’s breathing and heartbeat barely kept up with his rushed motions. She felt so desired, so dirty, so sexy, that she was finding herself already close to coming.
“Harry!” she called out, unable to think of any other words but his name, which was floating across her mind and taking over all of her senses. He leaned his body in, pressing his abdomen against her clit. Whether intentional or not, it punctuated her orgasm perfectly, and soon she was clenching tightly around his cock, and he was gripping her hips.
“Fuck” he groaned, spilling into her. He leaned in close to her, his body shaking, and kissed her softly. When he pulled back, Ginny marveled at the beauty of his sweat-shined face, his sated eyes, and his reddened lips. He pulled slowly out of her and dropped somewhat gracefully to the floor. Ginny sat quickly up to see what happened.
Harry was lying flat on his back on the floor, his glasses askew, his hair even messier than usual, and his hands spread above his head. He had the biggest grin Ginny had ever seen splayed across his face, showing almost ever tooth. She smiled back, and then couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. Harry laughed in answer, and soon she was on the floor next to him, laughing uncontrollably between happy kisses and playful caresses.
AN: This story has gotten away from the initial plan in a good way. There are now two more chapters after this. I was encouraged by my wonderful, indescribable, renaissance man of a beta Tom Bombadil to flesh out certain things. So that's what I'm doing. You're going to enjoy more detail. That is why this chapter took so long to publish. As always, please review...otherwise, how will I ever know if I suck or not?