What Ginny Wants - Chapter 23 (A Harry Potter Fanfic) (Patreon)

Chapter 23: The Watcher's Surrender

The heat of her skin reached both of them. Huge tits, thick ass, vivid pink hair — the body she had poured herself into as a dare, still standing in the middle of a sixth-year dorm with Harry's spend on her chin.

Harry's cock kicked against his stomach, still wet from her mouth, a last bead of cum sliding down the thick shaft. A week of nothing had broken. The office was still there. So was the Vow. But his body had remembered it was allowed to want something.

Ginny looked at his face first. She watched the green come back into his eyes the way she had been watching for eight days, and when she saw it — really saw it — something fierce and relieved lit behind her own.

She stood up. Her skirts were still bunched around her waist. Her knickers were on the rug. Her pussy was shiny and used from Tonks's mouth, a thin trail of slick running down one thick thigh. She stepped in until her big tits brushed Tonks's newly outrageous ones and tipped the Auror's wet chin up with two fingers.

"You did good," Ginny said. The fire was back in her voice. The real thing. "You got him in the room. You ate me until I came on your face. You swallowed a week's worth and didn't complain when it ran down your vest. That was the polite opening. You said so yourself."

Tonks's mouth curved, lopsided, delighted. "I did say that."

"Then listen." Ginny's thumb smeared the last white smear across Tonks's lower lip. "You took charge because we were drowning and someone had to. I let you. I'm not drowning anymore. He isn't either. Now you do what I say, and you do what he says, and you love it, because I watched your eyes on your knees and you already do."

Tonks laughed, low and filthy and unoffended. "There she is. I was hoping the redhead would come back. Possessive little thing with a generous streak that got unhinged around Christmas. Go on then. Tell me what I am."

Ginny's fingers slid into the pink hair and tightened. Not cruel. Certain.

"You're a perfect slut," Ginny said. "An Auror with a badge and a mouth that just milked him against a dormitory wall. You take what we give you and you ask for more. If you want to keep any of this after today, you say it with his cum still on your tongue. Clear?"

"Clear." The word came out eager. The huge tits rose on a sharper breath. "Yes. Use me. I didn't ride a Thestral through sleet to be treated like a guest. Put me where you want me."

Harry pushed off the wall. The grief had not left. It had just been shoved aside far enough for the rest of him to stand up. He put his hand on the back of Ginny's neck first — claiming her the way he always did — then looked at Tonks over her shoulder.

"On your knees," he said. Low. Rough. Not asking.

Tonks dropped. The huge tits bounced when her knees hit the rug. She looked up the line of him — open shirt, that thick veined cock rising toward her face again, heavy balls still drawn tight from the first load — and made a small, helpless, happy sound that did not belong to an Auror on watcher duty.

"Good girl," Ginny murmured, and Tonks's eyes fluttered.

Harry wrapped one hand around the base of his cock. His fingers could not quite close. He painted Tonks's lower lip with the wet head until her mouth opened on instinct.

"You talked a lot when you were in charge," he said. "You can still talk. You don't get to decide the pace."

"I don't want to." The words vibrated against the head of his cock. "Fuck my throat until I forget I have a rank. Have her hold my hair. I've been thinking about this since last summer and the stories were shy, Potter—"

Harry pushed in.

The thick head stretched her lips wide. He gave her another inch, then another, and she opened for him like she had been built for it. Maybe she had — a Metamorphmagus could loosen a throat, widen a jaw, soften the reflex that made other girls choke. She used it. She took him deeper than Romilda ever had, deeper than Fleur had managed while she was still pretending to be bored, until her nose pressed into the dark hair at his base and her throat bulged around the girth.

Wet, filthy sounds filled the silenced dorm. Spit ran down her chin and dripped onto those huge, swaying tits. Harry held there, buried, feeling her throat work around him.

"Fuck—" The word tore out of him. "She's taking all of it, Ginny."

"I can see that." Ginny had one hand fisted in Tonks's pink hair and the other already between her own thighs, two fingers sliding through soaked folds. "Auror on her knees in a boys' dorm. She asked for this. She's drooling on your balls."

Tonks pulled back just enough to breathe, a thick string of spit connecting her swollen lips to the flushed head.

"Harder," she rasped. "Don't be gentle because I'm older. Don't be polite because I have a badge. Face-fuck me. I want to feel it in my throat tomorrow when I'm walking the grounds. Use your slut, Potter. Yours. Hers. Whoever's holding the hair."

He gripped her hair over Ginny's hand so they were both holding her and used her mouth properly. Long, deep strokes that drove the fat head into her throat on every pass. The huge tits swung. Spit soaked his shaft and ran over his balls. Tonks's eyes watered and stayed open. When he bottomed out she moaned around him. When he pulled back she chased the head. When Ginny twisted her fist and forced her down to the root, Tonks's hands came up — not to push away — to grab Harry's thighs and pull herself deeper.

Harry's hips rolled. Ginny watched from the edge of the bed, two fingers still moving, her fat ass perched on the mattress.

"She's going to make you cum again," Ginny said. "Don't you dare pull out. Fill that mouth and leave it there until I say."

"Ginny— I'm close— she's milking it—"

"Good. Give it to her. She asked."

Tonks hummed around him and swallowed when he drove in to the hilt.

Harry came raw and present, nothing like the broken sob against the wall. Thick ropes flooded Tonks's mouth in heavy pulses — the second load of the morning, a week's backlog still emptying out of him. Her cheeks bulged. Cum leaked from the corners of her lips and ran down her chin onto those huge tits. She stayed on him until the last pulse faded and his cock was still twitching on her tongue.

"Hold it," Ginny said. "Don't swallow the rest. Don't spit. Look at me."

Tonks looked at her. Her mouth was full. A little escaped down her chin anyway. She did not wipe it.

Ginny slid off the bed onto her knees so they were face to face, Harry's spent, glistening cock hanging between them. She took Tonks's face in both hands.

"Open."

Tonks opened. His cum sat on her tongue in a thick pearly pool. The smell of it hit Ginny first — salt and skin and him — and then she kissed her.

It was a claiming. Ginny sealed her mouth over Tonks's and took what Harry had put there, sucking it off her tongue in slow filthy pulls while Tonks moaned into her and let herself be used for this too. Cum slicked both their lips and ran down their chins together. Ginny pulled back just far enough to let a thick string of it connect their mouths, then dove back in, swallowing some, pushing some back, making a wet mess of the Auror's face while Harry watched from above, already twitching toward hard again.

When she broke the kiss she stayed close, forehead against Tonks's, mouths shiny and white.

"That's mine," Ginny whispered. "What he puts in you comes back to me. That's the rule. You want in, you kiss it over. Every time."

"Every time." Tonks licked a smear off her own upper lip, hoarse and happy. "You're terrifying. I love it. Don't stop at my mouth. I didn't grow these tits to have a conversation."

Ginny laughed, bright and a little wild, and looked up at Harry. "You heard her. Are you back enough to give it to her?"

He looked down at both of them — Ginny wrecked and shining, Tonks dripping and bright-eyed, his cock thickening between them — and hauled Tonks up by the arms.

"On the bed. On your back. Hold your tits."

"Yes, sir," Tonks said, and the sir was a joke and not a joke at all.

She crawled onto his four-poster and rolled onto her back. The huge tits spilled sideways; she gathered them as ordered, pressing them into a deep cleavage, thumbs on her own fat nipples. Her legs fell open. Her pussy was soaked, a visible trickle of slick already running down toward the thick swell of her ass.

Harry stripped the rest of the way without ceremony. Ginny climbed up after him, shedding the blouse, and settled on her knees beside Tonks's head to conduct.

He rubbed the fat head through Tonks's folds, coating himself, bumping her clit until her hips jerked.

"Last chance to say stop."

Tonks laughed and squeezed her own tits harder. "If you stop I will hex you. Stretch me. I want the bulge. I want her to tell you when you're allowed to cum. That's the arrangement, isn't it? She owns this. I'm the lucky bitch who got invited."

"Yes," Ginny said, stroking pink hair almost tenderly. "That's the arrangement."

Harry pushed in.

Even soaked, Tonks's pussy had to fight the first few inches. The broad head stretched her open, the thick shaft forcing her walls wide, a raw sound punching out of her chest as the girth kept coming. Inch by veined inch he sank into her. A faint outline rose in her lower belly. Her mouth fell open on a broken, delighted moan.

"That's not fair—" Her hands slipped on her own tits. "Weasley. You take this. How are you not walking like you've been hit by a cart?"

"Practice," Ginny said, watching the place where Tonks was stretched shiny and tight around the thick base as Harry bottomed out. His heavy balls pressed against the curve of Tonks's ass. "And love. And being greedy. Keep holding those tits. He likes to see them move."

He pulled back and drove in. The wet, heavy plap of his hips filled the dorm. The huge tits bounced in Tonks's hands, slapping together. Long, deep strokes dragged every thick inch through her. Slick poured out around him and soaked his balls. The bulge in her belly appeared and vanished with every thrust.

"Talk," Ginny ordered, rubbing Tonks's clit in tight circles. "I want to hear the Auror fall apart."

"Fuck— I can feel him in my stomach— I can see it— harder, Potter— don't you dare be sweet now—"

Harry hooked her legs higher and pounded into her. The bedframe knocked the wall. Tonks's huge ass rippled. Then she came with a shout, squirting in a messy clear gush that sprayed over his stomach and ran down onto the sheets.

The change rippled through her while he was still buried. Her pussy tightened, then eased, then tightened again in a way that made him groan through his teeth — Metamorphmagus control turned into a filthy trick. Her tits swelled another fraction in her hands. Her ass thickened under his gripping fingers.

"There," she panted. "Tighter. That's what I made myself into."

Ginny swung a knee over Tonks's face and sat down.

"You ate me once because you were in charge," Ginny said, one hand on the headboard, the other in pink hair. "Now you eat me because I put you there. Make me cum on your tongue while he ruins you."

Tonks's answer was a muffled moan and the immediate hot press of her tongue — competent, greedy, no authority left in it. Only hunger. She sucked Ginny's clit and took every roll of that fat ass onto her face like a privilege. Harry drove into her in the same rhythm. The Silencing Charm held the castle out.

"Harry—" Ginny's voice broke. "She's so good like this. Our perfect slut."

"Yours," Tonks managed against her, wet and smashed and sincere. "Don't take it back after. Let me be this."

Ginny came grinding down, thighs shaking around Tonks's head, a fresh gush that Tonks drank like she was owed it. Harry lasted through that and through the way Tonks's pussy clamped down in sympathy, and then his rhythm broke.

"Ginny— I can't— I'm going to—"

"In her mouth. Not her cunt. Not this time. I want it on her tongue again. Pull out and feed her."

He pulled out with a groan, dark and soaked and angry, and shuffled up the bed. Tonks turned her head, mouth already open, Ginny's slick still shining on her cheeks. He pushed past her lips and came on the second stroke — the third load of the morning painting her tongue, overflowing at the corners, his hips jerking through it with nothing left in him but their names.

"Hold it."

Tonks held it. Ginny kissed her again, slower, taking what was on her tongue the way she had said she would, a thick white string connecting their mouths when she drew back. She licked it up. She looked at Harry while she did it.

He kissed Ginny after, tasting all three of them, then kissed Tonks too — brief, rough, grateful — because she had kicked open a door the office had closed.

They collapsed in a heap that did not quite fit on a single four-poster. Harry on his back. Ginny half across his chest. Tonks on his other side, huge tits spilled over his ribs, pink hair a wreck across his shoulder. The room smelled like sex and cold air and the leather ghost of an Auror vest on the floor.

Tonks broke the breathing first, voice wrecked and oddly shy underneath the filth.

"Can I be yours?"

Ginny lifted her head. Harry's hand went still on Tonks's hip.

"I mean it," Tonks said. She did not look away. "Not just for this morning. Not just because you were sad and I have a hero complex and a flexible body. I want to be in it. The way she shares you like a weapon she refuses to let rust. I'll take the rules. I don't need to be first. I know I'm not first. I just don't want to go back to the grounds tonight and pretend this didn't happen. Let me be yours. I'll say please."

Ginny studied her the way she studied a new play on the pitch — angles, risk, whether the other girl would drop the Quaffle when it counted.

"He's mine. First. Last. Always. The others get a taste because I love him too much to let him carry this war with a clenched jaw and no relief. You don't get a private romance. You get what I give you, and you bring it back to me, and if the Order or your own good sense ever makes you a problem for him, I will end it. Are you still asking?"

"Yes. I like the leash. I like that it's yours. I spent years being the joke who changed her nose at parties. Then I became the Auror who kicks doors. Both of those are true. This can be true too. Please."

Harry looked at Ginny, not Tonks. That was the order of things.

"I want her," he said. "Not instead of you. Because of you. If you say no, it's no. If you say yes, she's ours."

Ginny kissed his mouth, then leaned across him and kissed Tonks — softer, a seal more than a claim.

"Yes. You're ours. Welcome to the mess. Don't make me regret being generous."

Tonks's laugh came out wet. "I won't." She pressed her face into Harry's shoulder for a second, then surfaced with the grin back. "Also, for the record, that cock should be classified as a restricted artefact. I'm going to feel this on the Thestral ride back."

Ginny snorted. Harry's mouth twitched. It was not a full smile. It was the first thing that had looked like one in eight days.

The grief was not gone. The Vow had not gotten smaller. What had changed was that they could stand up inside it again.

"We're going to go to him," Harry said.

Ginny's fingers paused on his chest. "Dumbledore."

"We've been punishing him for telling us the truth by starving ourselves. It felt like loyalty. It was just fear. If we keep walking around like the funeral already happened, we hand Voldemort the ending for free."

"I don't forgive the Vow," Ginny said. "And I am not going to smile at him and tell him it's all right."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I know. I'll go. I'll listen. Not because I'm at peace. Because the sad was starting to feel like the only true thing, and it isn't."

"Then we go tonight," Harry said. "We listen. We don't have to like it."

Ginny kissed him. "You and me first. Always."

"Always."

Tonks watched them with something softer than lust. "Go see the old man. Then come back when the listening hurts."

Ginny's mouth curved. "You're for what I say you're for."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harry huffed a real breath of laughter. It surprised him on the way out.

They cleaned up with a towel and a wand. Tonks shrank her tits and ass back toward something that would fit under an Auror vest, though she left the pink hair and a faint smug looseness in her walk. At the door she paused with her hand on the latch.

"If the Order asks why the Chosen One looks less like a funeral, he remembered how to eat breakfast. I am not putting the rest of it in a report."

"Good," Ginny said.

Tonks's grin went lopsided and fond. "Snap your fingers, Weasley. I'll drop."

"I know you will. That's why I said yes."

The latch clicked. Corridor noise leaked back in. Harry took Ginny's hand on the stairs and she squeezed hard enough to hurt.

They went to him after dinner.

The gargoyle sprang aside on the password. The spiral staircase carried them up into the office that still smelled of lemon drops and old parchment. Dumbledore stood at the window instead of the desk, empty right sleeve pinned neat, the remaining hand folded behind his back. He looked older in the lamplight. He also looked like a man who had been waiting for them to stop punishing the room and walk back into it.

"Harry. Miss Weasley." He turned. The blue eyes took them in — rumpled, alive, no longer walking like the funeral had already happened — and something in his face eased, just a fraction. "I am glad you came."

"We're not here to say it's all right," Ginny said. She did not sit. "We're here because starving ourselves does his work for him. That is all I can give you tonight."

"That is more than I had any right to ask," Dumbledore said quietly. "I will not insult you by calling the Vow noble again. I will only tell you what comes next, if you are ready to hear it."

Harry nodded once. "We're ready."

Dumbledore moved to the desk. He did not reach for the Pensieve. He rested his remaining hand on the wood and looked at Harry as if measuring the distance between this room and a stretch of black water he had already seen.

"It is time to go to the cave," he said. "The one from the lessons. The sea cave. I have believed for some time that Tom hid one of the pieces there — one of the tethers that keep him in the world. I went back once, years after that memory, and I was not strong enough to finish what I found. I am running out of time to be strong enough later. The lessons we have left are no longer only memories in a basin. The next one is the door in that cliff, and what waits behind it."

The office went very still.

"The Horcrux," Harry said. "You've been circling it since you showed me that memory. You're saying we go now."

"I believe so. I cannot swear it until we are standing in front of it. I can swear that if we do not go, we leave him one more tether, and I will not leave you that tether to cut alone after I am gone."

Ginny's hand found Harry's without looking. "When."

Dumbledore's mouth was not quite a smile. "Soon. You will not go unprepared, and you will not go unwarned. The cave is warded. It will ask a price. It was built by a boy who enjoyed watching other people pay it." He looked at both of them in turn. "I will need you, Harry. Miss Weasley — I will not order you to stay behind, and I will not pretend the road is safe if you stand beside him. But we go. That is the next fight that can still be fought."

Harry heard the word settle in his chest beside the Vow and the empty sleeve and the warm, filthy morning they had just crawled out of.

The cave.

They were going to the cave.

Disclaimer: All characters are over 18 years old.