Just then, Ron's voice came. Harry quickly pulled his hand out of Ginny's panties, and she promptly cleaned his face of all the saliva. Harry did the same after adjusting his erection.
"Sorry, I forgot to tell you that Hermione and Ron were looking for you as well," Ginny said, but she lacked any sort of regret on her face.
The headache returned. Harry groaned, realizing Voldemort was still pushing him to take Ginny there. All in the hopes of ruining his friendship with Ron. In your dreams!
Making sure they didn't look suspicious, they went downstairs together.
"There you are!" Ron was already close.
Harry held his head, "Sorry, Ron. Professor Slughorn had called me."
"Mental! What happened to you? Your face looks so red," Ron exclaimed in worry.
Harry cursed, stealing a glance at Ginny.
"I don't know, my head's throbbing. I just need some sleep," Harry replied, changing the topic. "Let's go to the dorms."
Ginny suddenly walked beside Harry, held his arm, and pulled it over her shoulder to support him, "Ron, why don't you go tell Hermione to head back as well?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed, frightened by the thought of being alone with her. "Ginny can go. I'm too heavy for her."
"That's right." Ron wasted no time and came to support him—much to Ginny's annoyance, of course.
Finally, freed from the painful erection, Harry walked back to the dorms with Ron. Voldemort's mind attack also seemed to subside with no potential victims nearby.
"I'm going to sleep, Ron." Harry wasted no time and went straight into the dorms. Any interaction with a female could be fatal, and he knew it. "I'll be at the library tomorrow."
"What?" Ron, shocked, came to check Harry's forehead. "Got no fever. Well, I'll be going to Hogsmeade with Lavender tomorrow, so I can't join."
"That's alright." Harry didn't mind and pulled the blanket over himself. "Goodnight, Ron."
####
"Ugh…" Harry woke up with a lingering heaviness in his head. From the looks of the room, it appeared he was the last one to wake up. Ron's bed was empty, and many of his clothes were thrown around all over. "Trying to look his best?"
In his heart, he couldn't help but feel wrong at the same time. After all, he still vividly remembered that time he spent with Lavender and Katie Bell in the Room of Requirement.
His girlfriend, his sister… I'm the worst friend to ever live. He sighed and got up. He changed into a regular pair of black pants and a white shirt, ditching the tie and wearing just the loose open robes on his shoulders before heading out.
Carefully, however. He didn't want to be seen by any of the girls—especially Hermione or Ginny.
Just the guys. Harry heaved a sigh of relief and quickly left the Common Room. Without wasting a moment, he rushed towards the library, and thankfully, due to Hogsmeade weekend, barely anyone was walking the corridors.
It's coming back. Harry panicked, feeling the searing pain returning—so much rage.
Still, keeping himself under control and his thoughts collected, he started looking for books. Anything related to mind, Occlumency, or memories was in his interest.
Is there anything valuable in this forsaken library? Harry walked around annoyedly. Wait, I still haven't used that Liquid Luck I got.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and at the moment, Harry felt desperate not only mentally but also sexually. So, he quickly took out the little glass container he hung around his neck like a souvenir. A quick cork popped away, and in a second, he gulped down everything in it.
I… I feel strange. Just a sense of unbridled confidence and positivity. Where do I start now?
The pain in the head didn't leave him. But he started to walk around the library without thinking much and looked at various sections, picking out books without thinking too much and just surfing the contents.
Calming the mind with ancient magical Tai Chi? Calming mind with magical Yoga? Meditation for Inner Peace? Harry read some of the contents, and as long as it had anything to do with mind and spirituality, he took it. Even going as far as walking by the restricted section; How To Tame the Mind? How To Control One's & Others' Mind? No wonder this is a restricted section.
But even then, he picked up the book. Dumbledore would understand his desperation, he reckoned.
Right away, he returned to the normal section of the library to find a corner and sit down to read. The first book he picked up was from the Restricted section, hoping its restricted nature meant it would help him.
The index makes it seem like nothing interesting. He muttered and ended up turning page after page, reading it with such focus that he started to ignore the throbbing pain in his head automatically.
That's it? The more Harry read the more he wondered if he could do it. Especially the later part about influencing another's mind. Did Voldemort read this here in the past?
Thud!
"Hm?"
"Hello, Harry. Can I sit here?"
Oh no! No, no, no! Not her! Harry cursed himself inside. Why here? Why now? Isn't my luc—Oh, it's happening. Breathe, Harry, just breathe.
"M-Miss Vane." Harry greeted the girl two years younger, and was widely known to have an incredible obsession with him. "H-Here?"
The tall, fourth-year smiled ear to ear, her ivory teeth charmingly on display. With an air of forced womanly embarrassment, she tucked some of her long, curly black hair to the side of one of her ears. Her prominent chin held low, a sign of nervous desperation.
She didn't even wait for a reply and pulled a seat opposite Harry on the same small square table. Since the table was so small, her legs, lacking any stockings, freely touched his.
Oh God, not again. Harry felt a surging wood rise between his legs.
"What are you reading, Harry? Oh, and call me Romilda." Romilda said, leaning forward on the table, giving a clear view of her cleavage through the shirt's two open buttons, her tie hanging so loose it might as well be taken off—no sweater either, as if she came prepared for seducing a certain someone.
Focus, Harry. You can fight off Voldemort! Harry silently tried to read the book without looking at her. Sadly, he knew Romilda was known to be domineering, conceited, and overly self-confident.
"Some book about meditation."
"Oh, meditation? I know some things about it." She started talking and sliding forward on her seat. Closer and closer, her legs sandwiched between Harry's, widening his knees that allowed her knees to reach very close to his erection. Her face now almost hovered above the book's page he was reading. Even her breath and her scent could be noticed.
I hate Gryffindors in cases like these. Where does this confidence come from? Harry wondered since he certainly lacked that. Sure, he had the bravery, but not being able to confess to Cho and seeing her get snatched by Cedric was proof enough for him.
He wondered if simply standing up and leaving was a better option. But seeing Romilda sitting on the side he had to pass by. He knew his pants would drop faster than his feet would move. He already had to clench his fist so tight his nails had started to dig into his skin.
"Let me help you meditate then."
This witch!
Romilda, over-confident, captured Harry's hands without knowing the beast she was poking. Her palms captured his, clasping it together and then locking her fingers with his. She moved and slid further forward, almost on the edge of her seat.
And now she knows.
Her legs finally reached his throbbing hot manhood. A short widening of her eyes gave away that she knew what the hard and subtly soft thing she had just bumped against was. It made her smile nonetheless, her eyes giving away a highly mischievous air.
"Umm… Let's do lots of meditation together, Harry," she mumbled, borderline moaning. It was a question of whether she was even sitting anymore as her legs pressed harder on Harry's shaft. Her fingers clenched hard between his. "Just close your eyes and take long breaths."
I know what she's going to do… I want this. Harry felt he was losing the battle. I can't wait to throw you on this very table and have my way, foolish girl… No! Not here!
Harry did close his eyes, but instead of focusing on her, he tried to repeat what he read in the book. That was the only way to get rid of Voldemort's influence.
The chant, yes. That spell.
"You smell good, Harry."
Now I know why I never considered her. Harry struggled to focus with the pain in his head, the arousal, and the tension combined. Let's just get this over with.
"Hmm," Harry responded, keeping his eyes closed. As if he surrendered to fate, he stopped trying to fight Voldemort for the moment. The only way to fully calm himself was to go all the way.
All of a sudden, he felt Romilda's breath on his face, a phantom feeling that something was approaching him. And she's done it…
Romilda willingly locked lips with Harry. She left his hands and stood up, leaning all the way on the table. She used Harry's shoulder for support as she went deeper into the kiss. It was all her doing, prying him with her confident tongue until he allowed her entry.
No stepping back now, Romilda. Harry didn't say that part out loud and silently raised both his hands to grab her by her curvy waist. He pulled her onto himself, to which she reacted kindly and climbed onto the table with her knees.
"Umm… so warm, Harry," she moaned between kisses and hungrily moistened the skin around his mouth, licking him in the true sense, as if he were a piece of candy. "I waited for so long."
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