Awaken

"So, why don't you start at the beginning?" Her dad made it sound so simple, but Ginny had no clue where to begin.

"Err." She fumbled, a little shaken by the pressure she was under.

Thankfully, Ron stepped up "Well, I guess a good place to start would be with the Diary."

"The Diary?" Their mum echoed.

"Bill did mention it." Her dad uttered.

Ginny nodded "Dumbledore told us that it was a memory, but it was more than that. The diary was a Horcrux- a piece of Voldemort's soul. He made several Horcruxes, and they tie him to the physical world so that if his body is destroyed he doesn't fully die."

"So that's how he did it." Her dad mused darkly. "I'm sorry sweatheart, that must have been hard to hear."

"It wasn't the hardest thing. The hardest thing is that- that Harry's a horcrux."

"No!" Her mum gasped "How do you know this?"

"Harry can talk to snakes, mum." Ron reminded "He got that from Voldemort, and then he has those ruddy visions from him. Apparently Dumbledore told him earlier this year."

"How do you destroy a Horcrux?" Their dad asked.

"By magically destroying the container it's in." Ginny said flatly.

"But that would mean…" Her mum trailed off.

"That Harry would have to die?" Ginny finished coldly "Why yes, that is Dumbledore's plan!"

Her mum was shaking her head "He wouldn't. Dumbledore wouldn't just send him to his death."

"I've given up on figuring out how Dumbledore's mind works." Ginny returned.

Her father's gaze, however, was more calculated "But I'm guessing that you've figured out another plan."

"Yeah, we have."

"Would you care to tell us what that plan is?" He knew what it was, at least in generalities, how could he not know given the blow out argument that was still ringing in her ears. What he wanted was for her to say it in her own words, but she was struggling.

"Well, Hermione came up with it. She looked through a lot of books and did" She waved her hand in a way that indicated she had no idea what her process actually was "calculations. But the point is she figured out how to save him."

Both of her parents were looking at her expectantly, and to her shame, her tongue was tied.

"Merlin's pants Ginny, they already know, just say it!" Ron piped up "Their plan was-"

Their dad interrupted "I want to hear this from Ginny, son." Ron closed his mouth with a click.

The right words, the surefire way to make them understand just wasn't coming to her. She sniffled "I had to, Dad. I couldn't let him die. I couldn't!" She blinked away tears "I know you won't approve of this. Harry has to have sex with seven witches, but its more than that. He has to bond with them too."

Their parents were silent, leaving Ginny with nothing to do but plow on "Its' called a soul bond. We bind our souls together, and with seven bonds it'll destroy the Horcrux."

"Have you done this already?" He dad asked.

"Yes."

"Are you okay?" Her mum followed up immediately.

"Okay? I know it's a little weird, me saying this after all of this yelling and crying, but it's brilliant. I love him, mum. Any time I want, I can reach out to him and-" She reached back to Harry, who was just sitting down for dinner with the Delecours, and she received an instant flood of love and assurance that made her beam "-feel him. Feel his love for me."

"But how can you be happy when he's with other women?" Her mum prodded.

"I wasn't happy about sharing him at first, not even a little bit. But after bonding with him, I'm not worried at all. I can feel what he feels- I know how committed he is to me. What makes him happy makes me happy, so when he's with those other girls… its okay, its more than okay. They've become my best friends. More than that, we're family."

Her mum was sniffling, but her dad was more analytical. "Do you think this bond is affecting you?"

"Well, yeah." Ginny admitted "I'm a lot more open with myself, about who I am and what I want." Her words flowed straight from the heart "I'm not ashamed of myself anymore- about the diary. And I feel like I'm really doing something important, that my life has purpose. I know where I belong now and who I belong with."

"Ginerva Weasley!" Her mother rose her voice "If you're saying what I think you're saying…"

"What, are you going to call me a scarlet woman, mom?" Ginny challenged "You know what… you can judge me all you want. But you can't tell me that you disapprove my sex life so much that you'd rather Harry die!"

Her mother opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, unable come up with an adequate response. Her dad rubbed his forehead. "Enough. Ron, what do you think of this?"

Ron shrugged "Like I said, they're happy, and the alternative is Harry dying. Not a hard decision, innit?"

Their dad sighed. "Alright, why don't you two stay in the sitting room." Her rubbed his chin "No, go to Ron's room, Bill seemed… erratic, I don't want him barging in on you."

Their dad led them to Ron's door and cast several charms on it- Ginny recognized the repelling and alarm charms. She wondered how much of that was to keep Bill away, and how much of it was to make sure she didn't flee. Probably more the latter.

After their dad left, Ron was the one to break the silence "Well that went better than I thought it would."

Ginny rolled her eyes "You weren't the one who mum thinks is a slut."

Ron snorted "If anyone were the slut in this situation, it'd be Harry. But I reckon that not even this will dent mum's opinion of him." He scratched his chin "Not sure what I'd call someone who likes having their boyfriend have sex with other people, though."

"Harry is not a slut!" Ginny said in mock outrage "I'll have you know he loves us all very much."

Ron chuckled, but whatever response he had was lost, because that was the moment that Apolline decided to make her move on Harry. Ginny shivered at the sheer strength and finesse that the older woman used to try to subjugate Harry. Thankfully, before she even had a chance to fully grasp the situation, Harry threw off the woman's allure. However, it very quickly became clear that Harry and Fleur were going to have very hot sex very soon.

"Shit." Ginny cursed.

Ron was looking at her weirdly, and she wondered how she had looked just then. "What?" He asked "Is Harry alright?"

"He's about to have sex with Fleur." Ginny bemoaned.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes! But not when I'm in front of you!" Ginny burst out.

"You can't just ignore it?"

"Normally yes. But Ron. You've seen Fleur."

"Point taken."

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" Ginny cursed with increasing desperation, pacing a circle in front of Ron's bed. Fleur was pinning Harry to the wall and began to divest him of his clothes, her hands and mouth on his skin… uhhn! She couldn't even ask Harry to postpone things because… well frankly she just didn't want to. She was strapped into this ride just as much as Harry and Fleur were.

Then Fleur was tearing off his boxers, and holy shit his cock! She stopped in her tracks and moaned aloud as Harry's cock swelled beyond anything she'd ever felt before… how was this even possible? And it felt so amazing, so good and powerful and masculine. Ginny wanted it, she wanted so badly to be on the recipient of that cock, to have been the one to make him feel that way. Envy bubbled up, and it acted as a caustic aphrodisiac.

She couldn't blame Harry, not one bit. She imagined comparing her and Fleur, the two of them standing naked side to side, and it was no contest. Next to Fleur, she looked ridiculous. It wasn't quite so obvious before Ginny had seen Fleur in her full glory, bit now, with that image permanently burned into her mind, she knew it was true without a doubt.

Ginny was flat chested while Fleur had the most impressive boobs she'd ever seen. Ginny's features were boyish, while Fleur's were elegant and feminine. Ginny had no arse to speak of, but she had drooled after Fleur's as she walked away earlier that day. Even with things she was proud of, like her stomach- flat and toned thanks to years of athleticism- Fleur simply outclassed her. In every category she fell short, in many cases in a pathetically one-sided fashion. There wasn't a man or woman on the planet that would choose her over Fleur, and many who'd give up a guaranteed night with her for even a shot at Fleur.

And somehow, this knowledge lit her on fire. Her cunt was a furnace who's heat radiated through her body, making her lightheaded and delirious. She tried to fight it, with every fiber of her being, but she wasn't Harry- she didn't have his iron will. She fought it until tears were streaming down her cheeks, until a broken sob was wrenched from her throat, until she broke.

She threw herself back on Ron's bed. "Ron… I don't care anymore. Watch, don't watch whatever." She pulled her panties down and spread her legs. "We both know that I'm a bigger pervert than you, cuz right now…" She hiked up her skirt and scrubbed viciously at her clit "I need… to fucking… CUM!"

The humiliation of having her brother see her like this just added fuel to the fire of the toe-curling orgasm that consumed her. "FUUUUCK! Oh- FUCK!" Distantly, she realized how loud she was being, but there was no stopping it, she just had to hope her parents couldn't hear her cries as her orgasm wrung itself out. Tears came to her eyes again, this time from relief and the intensity of her release. "UH! UH! UH! Uhhhhhnnn!"

Ginny's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her body still trembling from the aftershocks, but there would be no rest for her. Just as she began to recover, Fleur burned away her clothes and Ginny was once again bludgeoned with lust and envy. But this time, she wasn't just envious of Fleur, she was envious of Harry.

Because as much as she envied Fleur's body, she desired it just as much. Those thighs, those tits, "Fffffuck!" Ginny moaned, her eyes rolling back. But Harry was the one with Fleur right now. He was the one she was looking at like a slab of meat. He was the one who would experience the pleasure of her body first-hand. Oh, what she would give to even have Fleur look at her that way, to be the object of her lust.

Ginny was under no illusions. Perhaps she would one day end up in Fleur's bed, but Ginny would be a mere dalliance for her. Truthfully, Ginny knew that even if she somehow did find herself in Harry's current situation, with that sinfully sexual goddess about to ravage her body- she'd fare no better than Bill did. She'd probably just cum her brains out and collapse onto the floor the instant Fleur touched her.

"Fuck! FuckfuckfuckfuckFUUUUUCK!" Ginny howled as her orgasm crested. Her hips thrust out lewdly into the air, giving Ron a perfect view as her fingers plunged into her inflamed cunt.

No sooner had Ginny collapsed back into the bed when Fleur delivered the coup de grace. Having Fleur's warm cunt slam down on Harry's cock was a pleasure that Ginny simply wasn't prepared for. "AIIIEEEEEEEEE!" Ginny screeched, eyes bulging, back arching, limbs shaking as pleasure, terrifying in its intensity, tore through Harry's cock and through the bond to her. It was so much, so much, too much.

Ginny knew no more.

-----

Ron knew how he should react to his sister pulling down her panties, and exposing her muff to him as she masturbated. He should close his eyes, turn away, maybe even cover his ears so he couldn't hear her lurid moans.

Yet, Ron was conflicted. Yes, Ginny was his sister and it was very…. weird watching her like this, she was still a girl. Part of him wanted to turn away, but still more of him watched with a disturbed fascination, rooted into place like a bystander watching a train-wreck.

It didn't help that the bite that had horrifically scarred his face, had had… other effects. At first Ron had thought it was imagination, but he soon became sure of it. His cock was growing larger- longer and thicker. He'd always been horny, but now it was at a whole new level. Masturbation didn't satisfy, yet he had no other outlet.

The true irony was that this came at a time when he'd been made a social outcast by the school, and thanks to Lavender the entire female population of the school thought he sucked in bed. Which, in hindsight, was probably fair.

Ron gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his erection (which had, with much masturbation, been tamed after seeing Fleur) resurged with a vengeance, struggling painfully against the confines of his jeans.

When Ginny started screaming, sudden fear jolted him out of his stupor. Shit, if his parents heard, well, it'd be awkward at the very least. He quickly cast a silencing charm on the door, and then on the walls and floor just to be safe. Ron turned back to Ginny just as her orgasm was winding down and breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully that was out of her system now…

Oh. Apparently not. Heaven have mercy, how was he supposed to not be a perv when Ginny seemed to be trying to expose her cunt as much as possible, to finger herself as lewdly as possible. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the lurid show his sister was performing, and when she finally quieted down, he waited in anticipation for a full thirty seconds before daring to approach her.

He prodded her arm, and then her face. Nothing.

"Reneverate!" Ginny woke with a gasp, but her body immediately began spasming until her eyes rolled back- and then she was out cold again.

Shit. If their parents walked in now, with Ginny comatose on his bed, panties around her ankles… Ron would have a lot of explaining to do.

He needed to come up with a plan, and fast.

-----

Arthur heaved out a deep, heavy sigh. As difficult as Ginny and Ron's story had been to swallow, Bill, as much as he hated to admit it, seemed quite unbalanced. He and Molly had given him his opportunity to speak, and his explanation quickly devolved into an unhinged rant that he suspected was rather detached from reality. It had ended with Bill calling them traitors and storming out of the house, and neither of them had the heart to try to force him to stay.

Molly had burst into tears, and Arthur could only pull her to him. As hard as Percy leaving had been, this was even more sudden and more confusing. "I'm worried about him, Arthur." She mumbled into his chest "This isn't like him."

"I know." He agreed, resolving to talk to Dumbledore about this later, but for now… "Let's check on Ron and Ginny."

When he reversed the charms on the door and knocked her didn't receive a response. Fearing the worst, that Bill hadn't been the only one to make an escape, he cracked the door open...

Ron and Ginny were fast asleep, propped up against the wall in bed with a blanket partially draped over them. Ginny's head was resting on Ron's shoulder, and across her face were tear tracks.

They clearly hadn't been the only ones taking this hard. "Its nice to see them being there for each other." Molly said, reaching over to brush a few stray strands of her daughter's hair into place.

Arthur nodded, smiling faintly "We raised them well. Come on, let's give them a little time." Molly agreed and the two of them left their children to sleep. Yet Arthur's thoughts remained troubled.

As much as Bill accused his sister of being under the influence of dark magic, Arthur couldn't truly see any of her actions as being out of character. When she'd been under the influence of Tom Riddle's diary, she'd gone from a talkative and outgoing to withdrawn. But he could easily see why Ginny would be willing to do anything to save Harry, and he probably should have guessed that she didn't hold to some of their more traditional ideals. The young woman who had held her ground today was absolutely, without a doubt their daughter. No, if anyone was acting out of character, it was Bill…

Oh.

-----

On the night of her tenth birthday, her mother had told her (after a few glasses of wine) that every Veela had a moment where she 'awakened', when she realized that she was a sexual being. Her mother had gone on to describe her awakening- how at the age of twelve she'd fallen into lust with an older boy and successfully seduced him with her allure. Eventually, she returned to the point and told her "Gabrielle, you are becoming a young woman. At some point in the next few years, you will begin to realize what that means."

But at the young age of ten, Gabrielle already knew exactly what her mother was talking about. When she'd blushingly admitted that she had had 'those feelings' for a wizard, her mother reacted- for the first time that Gabrielle could remember- with pride.

"Oh, Gabrielle! Why didn't you say something earlier? Awakening at nine, what an early bloomer you are!" She cooed, patting her head affectionately. Gabrielle had blushed and smiled at rarely won praise.

"Really, it's okay?" She had asked.

"It's more than okay, my dear. Tell me, who is the lucky wizard? Oh, let me guess… Harry Potter." Her mother smiled down at her, and Gabrielle found herself smiling sheepishly. Had she been that obvious?

So Gabrielle had found herself describing the events at the lake, this time including parts that she had omitted in her original telling. How the instant she'd woken up at the surface, in Harry's warms, she'd felt something. "I didn't even know it was Harry. I just knew that it was a boy, and that that meant something. It felt… good, him holding me."

She told her how she had clung to him, her body buzzing somehow despite the cold of the lake. She'd had time to pick out what she liked about being held by this boy, how she could feel his muscles under the uniform, feel the beat of his heart, his warmth. She liked it so much that even when they'd reached the pier, she kept herself wrapped around him.

It was then, that she was finally able to get a good look at him, and realized that it was none other than Harry Potter! Famous, a hero- a real hero who had just saved her! "He saved me! It was like it was out of a fairy tale, mother." She gushed to her mother. "And he looked good, and felt good, and-" She, somehow, blushed even harder "smelt good." She didn't yet have the vocabulary to describe her attraction to him, she knew that 'good' wasn't the right word, but what was- Really good? Amazing? Delicious?

Hm, maybe that last one.

Finally, she told her how her feelings had persisted. How she couldn't stop thinking about him. How she kept imagining him kissing her, taking his shirt off, touching her over her body- and how that it had left her feeling hot in a way she couldn't describe. Her mother was less interested in things that were less physical- how Gabriel loved Harry's bravery, his selflessness, and his kindness.

For the rest of the night, her mother had lavished praise upon her and pampered her with affection, and it wasn't a fluke. The next day, she took her aside and explained everything. She told her about sex, how it was how babies were made. She told her that boys had penises and girls had vaginas, and how good it felt to put those two parts together. She told her that they, as Veela, were special, that they could please men in ways that no human woman could. How her sexuality was something beautiful and powerful, something to be nurtured and embraced.

That wasn't the end to her mothers' help- she'd collected papers and magazines covering Harry in the Triwizard Tournament, and Gabrielle had wasted no time in cutting out pictures of Harry and pinning them to her wall. She had instructed her in masturbation, and Gabrielle had wasted no time in putting that lesson to use. That night, she chosen her most prized picture of Harry- a shot of him after the second task. He was in his almost skin tight tournament uniform and still noticeably damp from the task. Something about that uniform did it for her, perhaps just because it was connected to her awakening. But what truly made it her favorite picture was what her mother had pointed out- the bulge in his tight black shorts- his erection.

Now, Gabrielle didn't really know what a penis looked like. Her mother had, when she'd given her the talk, given her an impassioned description of a penis that involved words like 'hard', 'throbbing' and 'veiny', but those descriptors couldn't really help her figure out what a penis actually looked like. All she had was the idea of a penis, but that was certainly enough to titillate her.

She set the scene, it was after the task, and she and Harry would be in a private tent… recovering or something. Her mother had told her that she would take the lead with boys, so that was what she did in her fantasy. She would climb into his lap so that his erection was pressed into her groin. Just the concept of Harry's penis being so close to her sent shivers of pleasure down her body. Her fingers probed her folds, finding them slippery as her mother had told her they would be. A finger swept over her labia and Gabby moaned at the cascade of pleasure that simple action set off. Weird, her mother had told her it would be a little nub, but Gabby wasn't complaining

In her mind she kissed him, and not just a peck on the lips. She knew from watching her mother kiss men before she led them to her room that a proper kiss used tongue. She didn't know the exact mechanics of how kissing worked, but tried to reconstruct the sensations by running her tongue over her teeth and the insides of her mouth.

Harry would moan in response, and Gabby would move on- taking off his shirt, enjoying the feel of muscles without that inconvenient piece of clothing in the way. She'd been at the beach plenty of times with her family, and had many examples of bare chested boys to work from. She would breathe him in- she had barely gotten to inhale his scent at the tournament, but what she had smelled had left her wanting more. It had been particularly enticing towards the end, when Fleur had shown up and something in Harry's scent had spiked- musky, powerful, and just a bit dangerous. Just of whiff of that had left her body buzzing in way she hadn't understood at the time.

Her fingers began to move erratically, making larger and large sweeps across her labia, her pleasure built up, coiling hot in her core and she began to understand what an orgasm must feel like, she could feel her body craving the release of that tension.

In her fantasy, she took off her shirt, and Harry would stare and tell her how beautiful she was. She'd kiss his neck, pressing her bare skin against his, and then… and then… her thought process froze. Her finger grazed across a spot in her folds that made her gasp- the sheer intensity of sensation, at such a light touch, was almost scary. She lay, gasping in bed, her entire body jolting from electric pleasure in the aftermath of that slight touch.

That was her clit then, and that, as intense as it was, hadn't been an orgasm, but she was fairly sure of how to get there now. Gabby braced herself and thought of Harry shirtless underneath her, her finger twirled around her clit once, twice, a third time, and Gabby screamed "Oh! Oh OH! Oh HARRYYYYYYYYYY!". For a few moments reality disappeared and Gabby could have sworn that she was in that tent with Harry, grinding on his penis.

But then reality reasserted itself and Gabby felt like she'd been taken to the stars, but only for a moment, and then slammed unceremoniously back into bed. She had no idea anything could feel this good. She didn't even have a concept for such pleasure until recently. But as intense as it was, some part of Gabby couldn't help but feel unsatisfied. It had felt like a brief jaunt, a few seconds of sublime pleasure when she knew there were worlds out there just waiting for her to explore. And more, the orgasm hadn't even quenched her desire. In fact, its aftershocks had left her tingling all over but especially in her nipples and clit.

She tried again. A few more swipes at her clit had her orgasming again, but each peak just left her thirsting for more. She tried to tease herself in an attempt to coax something more powerful (and hopefully more satisfying) out, but her willpower always failed her. Every time, she had to give up on teasing as soon as her needy clit started twinging- demanded attention from her fingers. She tried to advance her fantasies further to give the same effect, but when it took at most ten seconds to make herself cum, she had trouble moving things forward in her mind. It didn't help that she didn't even really know what boys looked like down there, her creativity had to fill in the gaps of her mothers' description, and she was sure that what she had pictured- a veiny shaft roughly the size and shape of a finger- was wrong.

After at least an hour of trying, she gave up, and even had to take an ice cold shower to settle down. She'd woken up in the morning feeling wrung out, but not in a particularly good way. Her mother had knowingly asked her how her night had been, and Gabrielle hadn't wanted to disappoint her and say she hadn't quite gotten what she'd wanted out of it.

She did say that she was having trouble picturing things, and her mother was all too happy to help. About a week later her mother handed her a small stack of magazines titled Playwitch. She explained that American magicals were far less prudish than Europeans and that certain magazines could be imported at a markup.

Gabrielle had thanked her, clutched the magazines to her chest, and ignored her mothers' chuckles as she rushed back to her room. When she was in the safety of her room, she peaked inside and stopped she blushed to the roots of her hair.

The page she had turned to showcased a man undressing himself in live action (there was also a woman in frame, but Gabrielle barely acknowledged her). He took off his shirt to reveal rippling muscles, then his pants, and then… hnnng. Her imagination had fallen short indeed.

Gabby was brought forcefully into her fantasy- but now it was he who was undressing, until he slipped off his boxers and his fleshy, mushroom-capped rod sprang out. Gabby instantly dropped her panties to her ankles and buried her fingers into her vagina, rubbing vigorously until she came. This time, that addictive bliss was more intense, but as hard as she tried to hold onto it, it was fleeting, slipping through her fingers. When she came to, gasping and shaking, she realized she had tipped over and fallen on her arse, but the magazine was still clutched firmly in one hand.

She didn't even leave her spot on the floor. She used the hand still slick with her juices to turn to the next page, which featured a closeup of a woman taking a cock into her mouth. Instantly, Gabrielle was seized by the fantasy. She imagined how Harry would feel, how he'd taste in her mouth (as good as he smelled, he'd have to taste just as good). Her fingers were back at her clit, rubbing furiously for the few seconds it took for her to cum again.

Again she came to, and she realized she hadn't even seen the whole thing. The woman sucked on it for a good ten seconds, before pulling away, using her hand on it and then… Gabby was sucked back into her mind, and Harry was the one releasing himself on her. He'd moan and shake and his semen would land on her face and open mouth- the smell and taste of it would be mouth watering if only she knew what it was like.

That orgasm was the most powerful yet, but she still craved more. She didn't bother cleaning herself up- drying the mess she'd made on her thighs or wiping the drool off her chin, she didn't even bother moving from the spot. Instead, she just pawed through that magazine with cum soaked fingers, looking for that next hit. By the time she had exhausted the magazine, it's pages had been dotted and splattered with her juices, and Gabrielle could do nothing other than curl up against the wall, covered in her own arousal, sweat, and drool.

But still not satisfied.

The magazines had also given her an education of sorts. It was written in English, and Gabrielle had taken it upon herself to become fluent. After all, if she was ever going be with Harry, she'd need to speak his language. While she had books to help her with everyday language, the magazines helped her with… raunchier terms, words like 'fuck', 'cock', and 'pussy'.

Her fantasies became more detailed. She added stories to them, usually he would save her or she would save him, and then they'd profess their undying love to each other, and then they'd fuck. She found that even as her orgasms had gotten more intense, it was also harder to pull herself away from them.

She quickly lost interest in those magazines. They were eye opening, but after the initial newness Gabby found that she didn't find that much appeal to seeing people she didn't even know naked. After all, she'd only ever used them by substituting Harry in the place of the men in them. They sat in a corner of her closet, unused and collecting dust. However, she had built up her collection of photos of Harry. Despite how toxic the coverage of him that year had been, Gabby found that pictures intended to show Harry as unhinged or angry just made him look hot.

The summer before her first year, her mother had taken her on a beach vacation week. Gabby had been over the moon, but it had quickly gone sour. The first day, her mother had pointed out a boy her age for her to play with, and she'd spent hours happily playing in the surf with him. She had noticed her allure acting up a few times, but she wasn't going to complain about her new friend being extra friendly to her.

When she walked back- happy and tired- he began asking her a few probing questions about what she thought of him. It slowly dawned on her what her mother was expecting- she wanted her to seduce random boys! The idea had no appeal to her, she just wanted Harry.

She tried to explain to her mother why she wasn't interested, that she just wanted to be with Harry, but her mother had scoffed at that, telling her 'There are other fish in the sea, Gabrielle.'. That night, and every night after, her mother did bed a man (or in two cases multiple men). Gabrielle never took anyone home, or even tried to get physical with any of the boys she met.

A few weeks later, she was off to Beauxbatons, with her mother's reminders to 'explore herself'. Gabby took with her her treasured collection of newspaper and magazine clippings and almost ritualistically brought herself to orgasm many times a night thinking of Harry. It wasn't that she didn't find other boys attractive. She did. She particularly lusted after the older boys, especially the fit quidditch players. The entire school reeked of sex- of aroused, masturbating, and cumming boys. How was a girl supposed to think straight? All the frantic, obsessive masturbation in the world couldn't keep her head clear.

How had Fleur done it- her sister seemed to be built out of different stuff than Gabby. And she knew what her mother would say- don't think straight go for it. She had tried thinking about other boys as she masturbated, those fit older quidditch players who could almost be a Harry-substitute, but they didn't give her the same thrill.

It was then that Gabby had realized something- having sex with one of those boys might bring her a new high, but she still wouldn't be satisfied. What she needed was more than meaningless sex, that ultimate high could only ever be achieved with the right person, and for her, for now, that was Harry.

So Gabby started planning. Her sister was in Britain, about to get married to a wizard who knew Harry. Harry would be there at the wedding… that would be when she made her move. It was her one shot. She planned out so many scenarios in her head- many of which evolved into erotic fantasies.

When she returned home, Gabrielle was left confused by her mother. She'd even shared her plans with her, and she dismissed derisively. Her mother was no longer proud of her, no longer showing any interest in her whatsoever. It was like the past two years had never happened and Gabrielle was back at square one.

Still she continued in her hope that she could capture- if not Harry's heart- at least his interest at the wedding. Those plans, of course, would be dashed in spectacular fashion when Harry and Fleur portkeyed into their garden.

When Gabrielle had stumbled upon them, the broader implications of what she was seeing didn't occur to her. Her world shrank down, every thought process had been consumed by two realizations- that was Harry and that was his cock. She detailed the architecture of his masculinity- every facet of that gorgeous organ. She'd been fantasizing about this moment for two years (and she would continue to do so for far longer).

It was only the sharp pain of her mother tugging out her ear that drew Gabby out of her daze, and then reality came crashing down on her. This was her one shot to impress Harry and she had just acted like a complete pervert! And what, why were Harry and Fleur kissing in the garden in such a state of undress? Wasn't Fleur getting married to someone else? Didn't she know how much Gabrielle wanted to be with him?

She was ready to sink into emotions of shame, despair and betrayal, when her mother threw her an unexpected lifeline. She would be the one to show Harry to his new room. Gabby took hold of that sliver of hope with both hands, and dove headfirst into the task of making the best impression she could on Harry.

She curtsied, took his land, kissed it, and was momentarily stunned by the pleasant tingle she felt on her lips and hand. With a fervent will, she pushed passed the distraction, carrying Harry's trunk and willing herself not to show any discomfort. She made small talk, but even she had to admit she was a poor conversation. He was just too distracting- she could smell the arousal on him… and the sex, so much sex. Not to mention, something in the back of her mind kept turning up that image of his cock. The only time she was actually able to properly focus on the conversation was when she asked him about his relationship status, which had been properly interesting.

He was with two girls, his first girlfriend Ginny, and now Fleur. Even though he said there wasn't room for another, Gabby was infused with renewed hope. If there was room for two girls, there would be room for three. She just needed to win him over.

With that goal in mind, she quickly came up with a plan. She changed her intended path, taking him to the guest bedroom that shared a wall with hers', with a shared bathroom across the hall. Gabrielle had never considered why she had such a set-up, but now she wondered if her mother had organized it this way for this exact purpose- to make it easier for her to seduce unsuspecting boys.

But once he was there, Gabrielle was at a loss. She was hopeful that her helpfulness had at least somewhat remedied her first reaction to him- hopefully she'd just be able to chalk that up to surprise. But she couldn't just leave it at this, carrying his luggage for him and a short, awkward conversation. Wait… his luggage.

That was what led her to offer to hep him unpack, and thus sealed her doom. When she spotted a pair of his boxers, she just couldn't help but grab them, couldn't help but bring them to her face, and just had to breath in his scent. Hhnnnnnng, Gabby had not been prepared for just how powerful- how thick and overwhelming his musk would be. Intense heat burst within her, flushing her cheeks and making her feel lightheaded. Her cunt throbbed urgently, her clit swelling and uhhg she needed to touch herself.

She patted at her crotch through her shorts- eliciting a delicious warm throb through her core when Harry's voice pierced through the fog. OH NO!

No no nononono!

No.

Gabby's mind was forced to hard restart. The world was crashing down around her, and there was no escape, no way to fix it or take it back. After what seemed like an eternity of Harry staring at her (with an expression that Gabby could only describe as creeped out) she was able to muster a response- which was to throw down his boxers and flee back to her room as quickly as possible.

She crashed into her bed as the tears began to come, but even then, she could barely smell her sheets. No, Harry's smell lingered in her nostrils, and every breath gave her a new hit of his musk. When she closed her eyes, she could only see his cock. Despite her shame and distress, she was more turned on than she'd ever been.

She moaned piteously as she writhed in place, begging herself not to do it, to not give in to what would be the most shameful wank of her life. She even tried focusing her thoughts on just how terrible her situation was in hopes that it would crush her libido. I'll never be with him. She bemoaned I'll never get to taste that magnificent co-ock, or have it inside me, throbbing and pumping his seed deep into my cunt.

"Fuck!" She whimpered, clenching her thighs together as she inevitably lost the internal battle. You're pathetic. She scolded. A pathetic little pervert. Why would Harry be with you when he has Fleur? A hand wriggled under her damp shorts and wedged itself between her clamped thighs, allowing her to grind. "Fuck! Fuckfuck- oh FUCK!" Gabby cried as the most intense orgasm of her life seized her, humiliated tears streaking her face. The feelings of humiliation blended with lust to make a mind-bending cocktail of pleasure.

The orgasm shredded the remnants of Gabby's self-restraint, and so there was nothing holding her back in its aftermath. She didn't even bother peeling off her shorts and panties- soiled with her arousal. Her hand simply sought out her clit and went to work and after a few seconds of furious rubbing she came again… and again, and again.

Yet as glorious as the orgasms she had given herself were, it was clearer than ever what was missing- who was missing- and he was just in the next room over yet as out of reach as he'd ever been. Each successive orgasm grew more torturous- the emptiness in her cunt seemed to gape ever wider, the pleasure itself became taunting, fed by her shame and humiliation, and when she came down, her body was just left more needy, more desperately aching for real pleasure than before.

After her fifth (or was it sixth? Seventh? Eight?) peak, she sobbed "Please." She sobbed, begging who or for what, she didn't know. "I-I oh fuck! Please!" And yet, her finger kept moving, rubbing her exquisitely sensitive clit, and she was taken by another biting, humiliating orgasm.

This might have gone on for hours had Harry not knocked on her door. "Er, Gabrielle?" His voice made her freeze. "Your mum just came by, we're going to have dinner soon. I'm sure Fleur will be able to show me around, but I thought you should know."

"Oui!" Gabby called in a strangled voice "Thank you!" She had little hope that anything could help her recover from that truly catastrophic first impression, but Gabby was heartened by the fact that he'd thought to let her know. She could only hope that dinner would go better.