Ginny on top
There were things her mother never told her. Ginny wasn't referring to the war, Dark magic, or the Order of the Phoenix. She stood in the middle of Wicked Witches, a store she never knew existed until five minutes earlier, and desperately tried to absorb the sight of shelves overflowing with countless magical sex toys, books, things she assumed could be categorized as clothing—maybe, and extremely naughty portraits. It was like Wheezes, only everything had something to do with sex, even when it...