Food for Thought
Cinnamon red hair, hot cocoa eyes and cherry tomato lips. *Harry continued his culinary assessment of his girlfriend as she ate her dinner, since he couldn't take his eyes off of her to eat his own.
He was so glad that she'd agreed to the intimate supper in his room rather than having dinner downstairs. The seating area where he'd set up the table was at the right end of the room that took up most of the second floor of his Grimmauld Place house. The bed was on the other side. Between were the massive fireplace, his wardrobe and a large empty space for practicing physical defensive techniques from his auror training.
Angel food skin with strawberry blush...
Suddenly the chandelier over their heads began clattering and their plates moved slightly. Even the items in his wardrobe rattled because of the vibration.
"Harry, what is it?" Ginny asked in surprise, since there was no sound of disturbance.
Harry rolled his eyes. He really needed to move to another room...or another floor. He'd been so excited about this evening. He'd gone to Hogsmeade to pick up Ginny, when her school had let out the students for the final excursion before the end of term. Even Hermione had been there, taking a short break from her marathon NEWTs studies and her now almost constant blond appendage, who she'd said had dashed home to have lunch with his mother.
It had been almost like old times with Potter, Granger and Weasley, though this redhead was much more cuddly than the original.
Speaking of which..."Harry, what is it?"
Harry huffed in exasperation. "Your brother weakening the floor."
"Ron? What's he doing?"
Harry plunged his fork into his partridge pie. "My guess is missionary," he said sardonically. "I usually can't feel it when the girl's on top."
Ginny's mouth and eyes gaped. "What girl?"
"Hmm, he's about halfway through the A's now," Harry said, "so possibly an Amy or Anne..."
Even in the subdued lighting of the bedroom, that familiar blazing look crossed Ginny's face and Harry felt his heart skip.
"Are you telling me that my brother, Ronald Bilius Weasley, who was too shy to tell Hermione that he fancied her all those years is now—"
"—Romeo with a wand, yeah," Harry answered with just a hint of envy.
"Ugh," she opined and stood, walking toward the door. "I'm going up there right now and—"
Harry caught her. "No, don't. It's therapy for him, Ginny. He's working his way through losing Hermione and Mal—"
He stopped himself and a smile, warm with desire, lit his face. "Besides, if you go up there, you'll just make him angry. What you want is to make him...uncomfortable, thinking about his little sister...That is," he said, slinking an arm around the curve of her waist, "I know how competitive the two of you are..."
"Harry Potter," Ginny gasped, tossing the flames of her red hair, "are you suggesting that we—"
He clapped his hand on the back of her head and felt as though his hand was scorching in those flames. His mouth pressed on hers, as if juicing the cherry tomato lips.
"Ginny, I love you," he said with difficulty over the pulsing in his throat and his constricted breath. "Please, stay with me."
"I have to go back to school. I'll be in trouble."
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Harry said in a voice softened by her skin as he nuzzled and cajoled. "I'll make it worth it to you," he promised as he pulled her closer and backed his way toward the bed on the opposite wall.
"Harry," Ginny whispered as her head fell back and body arched, giving him freedom of persuasion. "I can't..."
"Please," he said again, the sound in harmony with the strum of her heart strings.
Ginny's eyes closed and her mouth went dry. She sought Harry's mouth to provide hers with moisture. She fell back on the bed with a sigh, the cinnamon hair splayed around her, like rays from the sun.
To Harry, she was the sun, source of light and heat, Vitamin D for his soul. "Do you want to practice your muting charms?" he asked in a low voice, lightly touching the face of the sun.
She smiled. "No, let him hear. Like you said, I'm competitive. And I declare Weasley War."
He answered her smile, again feasting on her beauty, feeling hungrier than he ever had in his life.
Ron snored happily, with the Italian lovely in his arms, reliving the experience that was only muted to the outside. He gloried in every moan, gasp and Ronaldo that had come from her until she finally...
Ron awoke with a start and saw that Amoretta was still sleeping, a light ruby smile gracing her face. Then what had he—
"More!" he heard screamed from beneath him, "yes, yes!"
His muscles tensed. He could feel the hairs on his arms prickle as they stood on end. He fidgeted with a slight feeling of revulsion.
"Ahh, Ginny," his best friend cried as he and Ron's sister began a chorus of disgusting noises, that finally ended after a loud, dual howl.
Ron lay in bed with the señorina and his wand, wondering why his efforts to silence the couple downstairs wouldn't work.
Now he was awake, not busy and alone with his thoughts—a combination that he tried to avoid as much as possible.
Amoretta sighed with contentment in her sleep and he kissed the top of her head. He enjoyed being with her, but she didn't occupy his mind when they weren't together the way Hermione and Cissy still did—nor did any of the other women he'd had in his room since the last night with the older woman.
She'd said she wanted him to have not just a lover, but a life. He did, one that wouldn't disappoint him, composed of work and women.
Some might think it was a little shallow but...
Are there worse ways to live, Weasley, one might wonder.
Why yes, he would answer.
· You could pine for years in daily frustration, trying to deny your feelings for one of your best friends, and being too damned cowardly to act on them.
· Or you could come to the realization that even if you and that friend loved each other, that didn't solve all of the problems that ultimately made you unsuited for each other.
· Or you could watch that girl that you still loved choose the person you most despised over you.
· Or you could finally find some satisfaction with another woman, with the bonus that it was the mother of the most despised, only to have that taken away from you too.
Overall for now, he preferred to keep his life simple and active, thanks for asking.
"More, more!" he heard again from downstairs.
"Great," he snarled, still trying unsuccessfully to shut out the noise. "My sister's a screamer."
"More," cooed Amoretta, waking and speaking softly, in total contrast to Ginny, loudly discovering her sexual appetite.
"Ronaldo," Amoretta purred, as she mounted him and laid a foundation of kisses over his torso, her dark brown waves of hair carressing him as she went. She smiled down on him, the embodiment of Venus.
He grinned in return. Yes, there were worse ways to live, and he had been through a number of them. This was better.
That was his last thought as he let his wand fall to the floor. Accepting his sister's challenge, he began a counter-strike in Weasley War.