Fic: This Old House (Harry/Ginny, Sirius)
To: margaret67
From: biggrstaffbunch


Title: This Old House
Author: biggrstaffbunch
Recipient: margaret67
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Sirius
Summary: The going-ons of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place have given Sirius Black a lot to talk about.
A/N: This is my response to elsa241967's request for smutty_claus. She likes Harry/Ginny and, well...Sirius, too. The request for Sirius's portrait was TOO tempting for words. It's not exactly what you wanted, but hopefully you like it! (It's the utter depths of my PWP depravity after all) :) Just wanna thank r_becca for being a great mod and putting up with my annoying tardiness- thank you so much! I hope you all like this and happy holidays/reading!!!


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I could tell you some stories, you know.

In the dark that settles over this blasted house, I've been privy to some truly interesting things. No one pays attention to the portraits these days, so it's easy to slip by unnoticed and hear all sorts of things I'm sure I'm not supposed to know. None of the occupants of Twelve Grimmauld Place even linger long by my portrait, which pisses me right off, really, because bloody hell--a bloke gets bored with nothing to do but watch the dust settle. I've taken to slipping through portraits between rooms, trying valiantly to eavesdrop and find out what the current news is. I have to lurk , come to think of it, otherwise I'd never find out anything at this rate! Once I hopped into bed with my Great-Uncle Darius, and if not for the tremendous amount of mental anguish, it would have been a successful trip--his portrait hangs in the corridor leading right to the kitchen. I could fill hours telling you about my escapades, in fact, but--

Let me tell you instead, a story of this old house and the secrets I've known.

I suppose I ought to come out and say right upfront that I'm a lech. Always have been. A pervert in the highest form, and damn proud of it! Blacks have always been virile, and I was never afraid to use my--shall we say--talent with the ladies. I always understood the baser notions better than most. So it's not a surprise that I've got a bit of a voyeuristic fixation, yeah? I mean, it wasn't a surprise to second cousin Orion, in any case.

Although it may come as a surprise to the pair lovers I watch faithfully if they ever found out.

I'll always remember the first time I saw them.

For all intents and purposes, I never should have watched them together. Merlin knows I'm a twisted fuck, watching my godson and his minx of a girlfriend go about like a pair of bunnies. Shag-happy as they had the right to be, both immersed in a bloody battle that never seemed to end. They couldn't seem to stay away from each other for longer than a second when they got time alone, and I seemed to always be there when they got really, ahem, close.

He looked a lot like his dad. That unholy gleam in his green eyes and the smug smile was the mirror image of the look James got on the Friday date nights with Lily. The look that said, "I'm getting shagged by a sexy red-head, be very, very jealous."

They didn't crash into the room or stumble about ungracefully, like I'd seen them do around the house. No, they weren't about urgency or meaningless quickies when they came to this room. They were about coming away from the world. It was a process. Harry came in first and just lounge on the bed, his eyes ticking left and right in an old, practiced suspicion. He took of his jumper and toed off his trainers, and spent some time creating a nice mood lighting. Good work, for wandless magic, it was quite impressive. I could've watched him work for awhile, actually, but right about the time he got candles floating on the ceilings, Ginny Weasley came in.

Wow.

Ginny was more than twenty years younger than I, but Merlin. I could be appreciative, couldn't I? Her legs were endless, and she had the fine muscles of a Quidditch player. Harry's equal in all things, indeed! Her Seeker reflexes certaintly came into play when she pounced on Harry, her body sleek and her movements agile. She looked wild, her hair an orange halo blazing around her pretty face, her brown eyes gleaming. I knew that instinctively, I had always compared Harry and Ginny to James and Lily in the back of my mind, but at this moment, Ginny couldn't have been farther from Lily if she tried. She was unrestrained, fiery, a warrior. Lily had always been composed, cool, intellectual--beautiful as anything, but she could freeze water by looking at it sometimes.

I could see why Harry had chosen someone who could melt ice just by walking by, who could match him wit to wit, blow for blow.

The power the two demonstrated as they tumbled about the bed, laughing breathlessly, was astounding. The candlelight glimmered against flexing muscles and the shadows and valleys of their bodies. Ginny was small but solid, while Harry was lean and rangy. They worked well together, skin against skin and ebony against copper. I liked the contrast, and enjoyed just watching them be with each other. They looked happy, almost innocent in that warm glow permeating the room.

I didn't even see it coming when Ginny--little Ginny Weasley--swung her legs and straddled Harry--my godson-- and began to kiss the life out of him. Her hips were astride Harry's pelvis, and her breasts smashed against his chest, and damned if she was breathing at all the way they were snogging. One of Harry's hands sifted through her gorgeous hair while the other cupped her equally gorgeous bum. Their mouths moved against one another, tongues sliding in a langorous rhythym. Harry groaned tersely as Ginny pushed her bum against his hands, rubbing exquisitely against the hard-on even I could see.

"Like that?" Ginny asked, her eyes dancing as she dropped a kiss against Harry's neck. She sucked gently and Harry growled. My godson. He growled. Couldn't have been prouder of the randy little prat, until he grabbed Ginny's wrists and flipped them both over. It was a nice move. I should have applauded, but I was really busy peering at Ginny, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn't seem the type to enjoy giving up her inches.

I was right.

"Fine, Harry," she purred, "If you wanted to be on top, you could have just asked." She wriggled a wrist free and traced her fingers down the valley of her breasts. "It's a nicer vantage point, I'm sure." She flicked the buttons of her top open. Inch by creamy inch of freckled skin was revealed. No bra. Round, pert breasts. Nipples the color of the blush working its way up her body. As her shirt lay open, she trailed her fingers down and slipped her hand under the band of her flouncy little skirt. "Your arms are bound to get tired, though," she whispered. "And I rather would've liked your help with this." She gave a saucy smile as she closed her eyes, oblivious as you please to Harry's open-mouthed shock. Ginny fingers were obviously doing naughty things under that tweed skirt, if evidenced by her breathy moans and appreciative sighs.

Oh, Merlin. The girl played dirty.

Harry gave another incoherent growl before giving up, rolling over onto his side to enjoy the show. He propped his head up with his hand as Ginny began to writhe, honestly lost in her own ministrations. Harry waited till Ginny had wriggled out of that offensive scrap of cloth she called a skirt before leaning down to say softly in her ear, "Still want my help?"

My boy knew how to play just as dirty, it seemed.

The heavy-lidded glare Ginny gave him spoke volumes. Harry smiled cheekily and brushed his lips against her collarbone. He began to stamp hot, open-mouthed kisses along the edge of her neck before delving down to capture a hardened nipple between his teeth. Ginny gasped sharply, her fingers stilling for a moment. Her knickers were bright green like Harry's eyes, and I marvelled at how soaked they were. Harry seemed to think the same thing, because he snaked a hand down to capture his girl's fingers and move them away. His tongue still swirling around her breast, Harry slid his finger along Ginny's slick center.

She gave a long moan that must have shot straight to Harry's cock, because he moaned himself, tugging at the pathetic scrap of cotton left of Ginny's knickers.

"Gettitoff," Ginny gasped. "Need your tongue on me." The girl didn't waste any time, but Harry wasn't having any of that. He gave a devilish smile before shaking his head.

"Patience, Ms. Weasley." He scooted so that he was in front of Ginny, between her legs and looming over her. Bracing on two arms, he leaned down and began to kiss her, his tongue dancing with hers. He broke the kiss after a moment that left Ginny breathing heavily, and started licking a trail down her neck. Ginny wiggled, giggling.

"Oh," she blinked, her lips curving. "That tickles."

Harry laughed. "Well, that won't do--I'm aiming for less laughing, more moaning, okay?" He dipped his head and nipped at Ginny's earlobe, sucking gently at her pulse point before resuming his prior journey southward. I wasn't sure who exactly Harry thought he was, spouting lines like that, but it seemed to work. Ginny was putty in his hands.

"Oh-oh-kay," Ginny agreed, her hair fanning out around her as she tossed her head restlessly. Harry was at her breasts again, and while I certainly enjoyed the way he brought her nipples to attention, and Ginny's murmurs of appreciation, I really wanted to see him get to the prize. Ginny did, too.

"Harry," she said after a moment, "H-harry," her voice broke on a moan, "Oh, gods, please, please touch me."

"I am, love," Harry said seriously, stopping his ministrations.

Ginny hissed. That was my girl, showing Harry who was boss. "No, Harry," she said, gritting her teeth. She arched her hips and gave an impatient whimper. "Touch me here." She grabbed one of Harry's hands, and placed in directly on the copper curls that were so moist they glistened. "Ah, gods," she moaned as Harry's fingers rubbed experimentally. "Yes. There."

Harry gave a self-effacing shrug and scooted down the bed, his attempt at long, drawn-out foreplay nipped in the bud. There was only so much a person could take, Harry, I wanted to shout. Just taste her already! And he did. Harry shot Ginny a heated gaze before leaning down and taking a long, firm stroke with his tongue. Ginny's lower body arched so far Harry had to grab her hips and anchor them in place. Her body trashed as Harry began to taste her in earnest, his tongue swirling around that one spot designed to make women scream, his fingers pumping in and out at a maddening pace. Ginny's body was stretched taut, and her breaths came increasingly broken. His name was a chant on her lips and I saw a lovely pink blush start to work its way up her body as Ginny reached her peak.

When she came, I swear to Merlin that stars burst in my eyes.

After the high of an explosive orgasm, Ginny's breathing finally regulated and that wicked gleam returned to her eyes.

Harry looked smug again. With good reason, I'm sure, because Ginny was looking as if she really wanted to thank him for that torturous teasing. I prayed he wouldn't embarrass the Potter name and at least hold out for a good five minutes. For Prongs's sake if nothing else!

Ginny shook her head. "You, Harry Potter, have entirely too much on," she said lightly, sitting up so she could face Harry. The boy just smiled.

"Do something about it, Ginny." Harry challenged. Why, yes, Harry! That was very smart. Challenge the witch with the devastating body and potentially talented mouth.

Idiot.

Ginny, to her credit, just laughed. "I will," she promised. "Oh, I will." With a whispered word, Harry's jeans were gone, and his cock was standing proudly at attention.

The look on his face was priceless. Ginny gave a peal of laughter. "You're not the only one who knows a bit of wandless magic," she quipped before grasping Harry's cock in her hands and making him gasp.

The sight of Ginny's left hand, slim-fingered with nails painted cotton-candy pink, sliding up and down Harry's length was almost as good as the sight of her other hand delving down to stroke along her own quim. Harry's shaft pulsed as his head lolled back, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Ginny smiled as she seductively licked her palm, up and around each of her fingers, before getting back to work. She gently skated her fingertips along the underside of Harry's cock and then firmly rubbed the length, pumping up and down. As a drop of pre-cum appeared, she dipped her head down and licked delicately against the slit along the head.

"Ginny," Harry's voice was strangled. "Ginny, oh gods, stop teasing."

"I'm not, love," she said seriously, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Ginny! Please." Harry's eyes widened as his hips arched up, his cock bobbing against his stomach.

Ginny sighed theatrically before shrugging, her attempt at driving Harry mad a complete success.

Watching her close her cherry lips around Harry's cock was so fucking good I would've been breathless had I needed to breathe. Ginny held Harry's gaze steadily as she swirled her tongue around his length, her cheeks hollowing with each hard suck. The look that passed between them as Harry's breath came quicker was nothing short of searing. As Harry's buttocks tightened, I knew if Ginny didn't let up, he'd end up coming in her mouth. Some birds didn't let that fly, so I silently willed Harry to warn her.

"G-Gin," Harry gasped. "Oh, gods. I'm close--" Ginny let his cock go with a pop, and smacked her lips together.

"Oh, no, you don't," she said sternly. "I want you inside me." She swung her legs to straddle Harry once again and lowered herself slowly. Harry's eyes were clamped shut and his throat humming in pleasure as he inched in. When Ginny had adjusted to the length of him stretching her tight walls, she began to rock, her hips swivelling in tiny figure eight's.

"Oh, yes," Harry groaned. "Fuck. Ginny, yes."

"Look at that, Potter," Ginny whispered giddily, "I'm on top again!"

I would've laughed if the sight of them, rocking and thrusting in the candelight, sweaty and healthy and young, hadn't already caught m throat.

When they came, it was beautiful.

When they cuddled afterwards, it was still beautiful.

And when they did it again and again and again and so many times afterwards, it was always beautiful. I had a feeling that those nights in that small bedroom at Grimmauld Place were a novelty of sorts. I had a feeling their nights were their secret.

And mine.

I told you I had some stories to tell.