It began with the innocence of a child.
Curiosity and wonder.
A peek behind the shed and giggles erupt out of her because a boy's willy is weird.
A gentle touch with a single finger and Ron blushes as laughter escapes his smiling lips. Ginny looks on, her giggles mixing with his as it begins to point at her.
'Why?' she asks and he shrugs.
'I don't know,' he mumbles, cheeks flaming.
Then it's her turn and he laughs as she blushes and giggles.
'Can I touch it?'
A nod and then his dirty finger is touching her there and her giggles fade. A silent gasp and she shudders. The gentle touch causes her body to flush and Ron stops smiling.
With sudden awareness, she knows this is wrong and that they should stop ... but she doesn't want to.
His finger moves softly, barely touching her and she likes it. Ginny spreads her legs wider, her jeans around her ankles and she scowls because Ron only had to pull it out. She had to drop her knickers and trousers, it's not fair. She's cold and it's starting to rain but she still bends her knees, spreads her legs a bit wider, letting him touch more of her.
She frowns, wondering why it feels okay. Her young mind struggling to understand how this is different to her cleaning after the loo.
Mummy calls them in and they smile at each other. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are pink as they race inside.
George catches them almost as soon as she and Ron began.
He's older. Thirteen to her eleven and she's scared because he'll tell.
She runs and hides which is hard to do because the Burrow is always full.
It's Summer and it's hot so her hiding spot is uncomfortable and Ginny cries.
He finds her. Naturally, she'll eventually think- when age and reason catch-up. Her dad's shed had always been her hiding spot. Inside the car, tucked in the back.
She hears him enter and the shed door closes behind him. She doesn't answer him when he calls out to her, convinced as she is that he doesn't know she's here.
'You know Dad told you to stop coming in here,' he says and she bites her quivering lip because she knows.
Her tears are still falling and she sniffs and a rush or hot air swoops over her when he opens the door. He looks so big then. His hair a dark shade of red, it's colour changed from the darkness the shed always holds.
His eyes, a darker blue than Ron's, look troubled and a sob escapes her because she's going to be in so much trouble.
He tries to soothe her but it only works to make the whole thing worse. George tells her to move over and she does, caught between surprise and the will to do what he says as long as he doesn't tell.
He sits her on his lap and her crying slows, her tear tracks itchy on her face.
'I won't tell as long as you two stop okay?'
Overwhelming relief flood her and she smiles as he crosses his heart and promises to not even tell Fred. Her small arms reach around him and he smiles.
A peck on her cheek, a peck on his and he grows quiet. The shed becomes smaller and her big brother is all she can see.
His lips are wet and her eyes are drawn to them.
They're soft against her own and her belly flutters from the feel of them. Her soft mouth moves, mimicking his and she feels his hardness beside her thigh. Like Ron's but different, bigger and she wiggles.
The backseat smells funny and dirt flies through the sunlight filtering in but all she sees is face, close to hers. His eyes are shut as his hands begin to touch her.
A soft moan escapes her and her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at a particular spot.
'George,' she whispers and he pulls away from her with wide eyes.
He looks troubled again and pulls away from her. He leaves and she's left with an ache between her legs.
His skin glows blueish-white in the moonlight. His eyes are shinning, his smile is sincere and to her, Fred is beautiful.
She thought it'd been George at first. Days after the shed, weeks almost, she was awoken by the creak of her door and the dip of her bed.
'George?'
'Shh,' he'd said and moved between her legs.
Heart pounding a familiar ache blossoming between her legs, Ginny watched as he sat up and pulled her nightgown up towards her waist, her knickers off.
It's the feel of his lips that tells her who it is and she gasps as she sits up and pulls away, her headboard pressing into her spine.
'Don't be scared Gin,' he says and his voice is soft.
Another kiss and soon she's on the bed, he's over her, his tongue is in her mouth and his long fingers are making her squirm. Noises escape her parted lips as his thumb moves over that little spot and the only way she can describe it is that it burns.
Clit. Pussy. Cock.
He loves saying them and these strange new words thrill her because she knows they're naughty.
He doesn't stop rubbing at her. His fingers are gentle and then they're wet for some reason that she can't understand and she panics wondering if she does but Fred only smiles. He says it's okay and he seems pleased.
His kisses are soft, his fingers are gentle and then he's sucking her nipples and the burn is more and she can barely catch her breath and it all. just. breaks.
Her thighs clench around his hand, his mouth swallows her cries as she shudders and it feels so good.
She finds that hearing him moan her name as she touches him is just as satisfying.
Fred teaches her things and after that first night, she finds it's not enough and she begins to seek him out.
Incest.
That's what Riddle said this was and the fact bothers her.
The word is dirty she soon learns and it's a Bad Thing what her and Fred are doing. It's wrong and only perverts do it.
The idea battles with her own wonderful experiences and so she pushes the thought away.
She's twelve now- too young to truly understand the enormity of their actions but physically equipped to enjoy it.
Fred is always gentle with her and his smiles warm her from the inside out and she craves his touch. That she reasons, must be proof that this isn't wrong.
The school gives them a sense of freedom and privacy they lack at home.
They sneak around in the middle of night, the drafty castle a brilliant place to hide away and disappear as Hogwarts sleeps and she loves it. Loves him and the feel of him.
It's of his lips and body that she thinks of whenever Percy comes to her.
He's too demanding.
And rough.
Ginny doesn't know how this started and she's afraid to ask Fred if he told and she can't find the courage to tell Percy to stop.
His eyes are light brown- similar to hers but they seem darker, hollow somehow and nothing about his touch is welcoming ... but he loves her.
She knows he does because he whispers it to her between each kiss from rubbery lips as his hands move over her body. He squeezes her still growing and sensitive breasts with ink stained fingers. His breath always smells of Grey Earl and his smile is cold.
He's impatient with her when she shies away from him. She's uncomfortable but he doesn't care.
'Stop complaining,' he'll snap. 'It's not a big deal,' he'll say.
Then why don't you ever get naked? she burns to ask, but doesn't.
Her eyes slam shut when he enters her- as they have since the very beginning when they started.
An unwelcome intrusion that grows slick with her juices and makes Percy grunt and groan. His panting breaths ghosting over her as he positions her to his hearts content.
Ginny watches as his face turns red with effort and sweat peppers his brow, she turns away from his searching mouth.
That's what she remembers most about that night- his splotchy skin.
He'd stripped her down and ordered her to her knees and things turned vague. His skin had tasted salty and when her inexperience was clear he laid her down on a hard table and took. It was unpleasant and all she could think of was Fred and how he would stop seeing her if he found out.
Just as Ron had stopped when George caught them.
Just like George had stopped after that one time.
Her eyes slammed shut and she bites her lip as Percy moves her legs over his shoulders. Her mind drifts to a crooked smile and sparkling blue eyes and her breath hitches.
The pain is long gone now and though it's no longer uncomfortable- her body has since grown used to him and Ginny has begun to feel that delicious burn with him as well.
It feels dirty though- wrong. Incestuous.
Though she can't explain how, she knows that this isn't the same as it is with Fred. With him it feels good and he makes sure she finishes.
Percy never cares.
He turns her over, legs spread and chest to the table, he moves and she gasps at the depth.
An image of Fred flashes through her head and that makes it easier.
No matter how much she touches herself, it never feels as good as when Fred does it.
He's skilled and though she doesn't like to think about, his experience with the female body is perfect. He knows how and where to touch her and only he can give her the orgasm she craves.
The night is winding down and outside her tent, the celebrations continue. Ireland won and Hermione is in her makeshift room asleep, her dad is outside the tent drinking with colleagues of his.
Fred didn't visit like he said he would and she's desperate for release.
A flap of her tent's room door startle her and she jumps at the sight that greets her.
It's Charlie and he's drunk, bleary eyes staring at her hand and wet fingers. He turns to walk away but she calls out to him.
A pang of guilt hits her then because she feels like she's betraying Fred. It's he who she wanted but she aches to be touched.
'Please,' she says and Charlie turns.
He later blames the drink and apologises with tearful eyes, brown like hers and Percy's. His sun burnt face red with self hatred and disgust but before that, he fell on his knees before her.
It's a new sensation and it takes her breath away.
His tongue is soft and firm and he laps at her. Suckling movement that shatters her world over and over again. His name is on her lips as her pleasure peaks and ebbs and Ginny happily kisses him afterward. Her taste on his lips, divine.
He leaves her with a shy smile and though she enjoyed it, she knew that it was never to be repeated.
Fred was dead and to replace him with George is wrong.
She tried at first but he pushed her away.
Percy ... he was different now and though he made his intentions clear she couldn't bring herself to welcome his advances.
Ron wasn't an option and Charlie avoided her.
Bill didn't.
He didn't fight her off either and he watched Percy like a hawk when he approached her.
His touch, gentle and her breath hitched with his every kiss. His thickness brought her endless pleasure and it was with him that she found sex pleasurable.
'Ride me.'
Her hips rocked against his own and she loved the feel of him inside her as he sucked her nipples, his finger rubbing at her clit as she moved.
'Bill,' she moaned and shuddered, coming undone around him.
His beautiful, blue eyes and darker than Fred's and they lack a mischievous twinkle, but they're beautiful in the firelight. The skin beneath her fingertips is lighter than hers and warmer to the touch.
Ginny was in bliss as he moved over and behind her. His lust was insatiable since Greyback he claimed and though it's wrong, he wants to continue.
He makes it clear that this will be nothing more than need and an arrangement is made.
He loves Fleur and she loves Harry.
But he needs more than what the Veela is able to physically give and though she tries to avoid it, her lack of reaction to Harry's touch is impossible to ignore.
When Bill touches her however, it's easier for her to recall the image of red hair and pale skin, different coloured eyes.