Who? by sugarbear_1269

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 07/10/2003
Last Updated: 20/10/2003
Status: Completed

Ginny's discovered doing something naughty in the Hogwarts showers by Draco. He's driven
to know just who could put such a wanton look on Ginny's face! Part 1 of 3 in the Who?
Trilogy!




1. Caught!
----------

On a chill October morning not long before Halloween, Ginny Weasley woke up tangled in her
sheets. They were hot and uncomfortable, much like she was feeling at the moment. Why was she
having those dreams? And why him? She rose and checked the time. It was five o’clock on the dot and
she sighed. She was wide awake now.

If she took a shower now she would be able to be alone with her thoughts before the other
Gryffindors rose to do the same. She quietly gathered her shower items into a basket. Stripping off
her nightclothes she wriggled into her pale pink, nearly threadbare dressing gown and fetched her
towel. She sighed softly and padded down the cold corridor to the girls’ shower room.

Inside she was relieved to find herself truly alone. No one else had risen so early. She
selected the shower stall in the far corner. It was away from everything else, and she could
luxuriate in the steamy warmth as long as she wished. She disrobed and hung her things on a hook
next to the stall. She carried her basket in with her. She turned on the instantly roasting water
and stood face first into the healing spray.

Moments later outside, chaos reigned. An explosion from one of the lower dungeons rocked the
Slytherin and Ravenclaw sides of the castle. The evacuation alarm was sounded. The heads of house,
the prefects and the Head Boy and Girl were busy.

The prefects were herding the dormitory residents out, urging them to leave quickly instead of
grabbing robes and blankets to ward off the nearly freezing air outside the castle. Outside
Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall was swiftly dispatching students to safe evacuation routes. People
were screaming, some crying, others trying to run ahead of the crowd to escape.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl, had long since left Gryffindor to run downstairs to help empty the
lower houses. Draco Malfoy, Head Boy, ran upstairs and told McGonagall that everyone was out of the
Slytherin side.

“I’m going down to Ravenclaw,” Draco yelled over his shoulder to her, turning to race down the
stairs.

Before he could move another step, a tall redhead fought backwards through the throng.

“Ginny! Where is Ginny! Professor, Ginny isn’t here!” a panicked Ron Weasley screamed above
students’ heads.

“Malfoy! Find Ginny Weasley, check the Gryffindor rooms once more, quickly!” McGonagall yelled,
catching the back of his robes so that he might not disobey her. Malfoy grimaced, he looked back to
McGonagall to protest that he had other things to attend to but both she and Ron shared a glare in
his direction, Ron’s tinged by fear.

Malfoy sneered and doubled back to the Gryffindor chambers. He quickly searched the dormitory
and the common room. But there was no sign of the little chit to be found. He wondered where she
could be so early in the morning. He remembered the shower room was down the hall so he loped down
the hall and threw open the massive door.

Steam clogged the room so thickly he had to fight for breath. He heard the deafening roar of the
corner shower. He made his way to the shower and saw tiny feet beneath the curtain. He yanked it
back.

Ginny Weasley stood with her back to the rough stone wall, her head lolling back on her neck,
eyes closed. Her legs were spread to allow the beating force of the water to pound on her most
delicate area. Her fingers were busy on herself and her body was tense.

Her eyes flew open and she screamed.

“Malfoy! Get out!” she yelled, lunging toward the curtain he had moved. In a split second she
slipped on the stone floor, hitting her head hard upon the wall she had leaned against. Malfoy
tried to catch her but she slipped through his fingers. She hit the floor with a resounding
thud.

“Bloody stupid prat, of course you’d knock yourself out on my watch,” he said, lifting her
unconscious body. He looked around quickly. Wouldn’t do for him to take her outside naked,
although, he mused, she was quite a lot to look at. He spied her thin robe and threaded her through
it. He swore when he realized that all the water dripping from her hair had drenched the robe,
making her nipples pucker and strain beneath the thin fabric.

Swearing again he pulled her body up against him and leaned her against the wall. He quickly
shed his favorite black robe and slung it around her shoulders, making sure it was fastened to her
toes. He picked her up bride-style and exited as quickly as he could.

Outside, Ron, Hermione and Harry stood anxiously around McGonagall begging her to let them
inside to find Ginny. Ron turned just as Malfoy emerged with his baby sister cradled in his
arms.

Malfoy saw the malice in Ron’s eyes and clutched Ginny a bit harder just to tee him off. He had
inspected her on the way out and determined she had just merely bumped her head. She started to
come around and as soon as the surprise, fear and shame registered on her face he smiled and shoved
her roughly into Ron’s arms.

“Git! What did you do to her?” Ron exclaimed angrily.

“I did nothing, you bloated toad. She was in the shower room and didn’t hear the alarm. I, ahem,
*startled* her and she slipped and fell and hit her pretty little red head against the wall.
Isn’t that right, Miss Weasley?” Both boys turned to face her, once looking for reassurance and the
other slightly sneering.

Ginny turned her face into Ron’s robes.

“Yes, Ron, that’s right. I didn’t hear anything, and Malfoy surprised me.” She looked up. “I’m
mortally embarrassed now, all right? So leave me alone,” she snapped at both. Malfoy met Ron’s
gaze. Malfoy snickered and left Ron shooting daggers at him.

Ginny was a mess. Her hair was tangled, matted and wet. Hermione tried to soothe her by
transfiguring a stick into a brush and removing the tangles as they waited to go back in. Ron, who
didn’t like the idea of anyone seeing Ginny in this state (*although I’m covered from head to
toe,* she thought sardonically*)* was performing a drying charm on her hair.

*Covered,* she thought. *I’m covered in Draco Malfoy’s robe.* It was heavy with black
rabbit’s fur lining. He must have placed a warming charm and a water-repelling charm on it, she
mused, for it warmed her body and turned the water that had dripped from her hair like a duck’s
back. When she turned her head slightly she could catch a subtle hint of cologne. It was rich and
spicy and expensive.

“Ginny, are you quite alright? You keep turning your head to the side like that, are you sure
your neck doesn’t hurt?” Ron asked in a concerned voice. She shook herself mentally.

“Of course, Ron, I was just a bit sore, that’s all.”

Finally the entire school was allowed to re-enter the castle. It seemed after a quick inspection
that a last-minute study group of hapless third year Potions students with a test that morning had
accidentally created a potion that volcanoed out of the cauldron and spewed onto a cache of highly
flammable ingredients.

Snape gave them a dressing down and subtracted one hundred points from each house involved.
Snape was quick to snottily boast that no Slytherins had been responsible. As the rest of the
houses grumbled, no one wanted to study with them, either.

Ginny made her way up to the Gryffindor common room. Everyone knew that Malfoy had brought her
out, and although they didn’t quite know what had transpired in the shower room they knew she had
been sopping wet and was now draped in his expensive robe. She ignored the whispers from the
younger years and went straight to her bedroom.

She had shared the room in the beginning of the year, but her roommate had returned home due to
the death of her grandfather. Alone, Ginny took off the luxurious mantle and laid it carefully on
her bed. She inspected it closely; the outer covering was dragon hide leather. It had a few spots
of dirt on the hem from where it trailed at her bare feet and some dried soap suds on the
front.

She retrieved her wand and set to work cleaning it, resolving to return it in better condition
than it came. That was at least one way she’d get Malfoy off her back, one less thing for him to
complain about. When the hide was spotless again, she turned out the lining side. The fur was thick
enough to nearly obscure two deep slash pockets inside. Ginny reached in and retrieved two matching
gloves that were made of the same materials. The right glove was missing a fingertip. She thought
that odd for someone of Malfoy’s stature to have a torn or shabby *anything.* She replicated
the materials and coaxed it to form a fingertip. She nudged it until it matched the left glove as
closely as possible.

With her task done, she set about finishing her homework for the next day. Because of the
morning’s hullabaloo, classes were canceled until the afternoon. She had Potions right after dinner
with the Slytherins, and she intended to return the robe to Malfoy then.

She left the robe in her room, not wanting to take it to dinner where everyone could see it and
Malfoy would have an excuse to come to their table.

She entered the Great Hall and quickly went to find her seat.

Draco watched the Weasley princess dart into the hall, sans robe. What did she think she was
doing with his favorite one? He would see to it that she remembered it was his. He refrained from
going over and speaking to her.

He’d been elbowed and jostled all day with remarks like, “*Hey, Malfoy, is she a real
redhead?* and *What’s she look like beneath all those robes? Freckled beyond belief?”* He’d
refused to answer, giving only his trademark smirk. His bloody dumb housemates thought he was
telling them everything, when he divulged nothing.

But he had been replaying that scene over and over in his mind. He’d slept with three Slytherin
girls and had never seen *them* look so wanton, so abandoned. They were mostly concerned with
praising his size or his finely wrought musculature or something similar. Little Ginny Weasley was
hiding a beautiful body underneath all those shabby robes and worn-out sweaters.

Earlier he had lain on his bed and thought about her long legs and thick hair as he leisurely
stroked himself. He thought that yes, indeed she was a natural redhead. But when he lowered his
mind’s eye to her fingers touching herself, his own touch became firmer and soon he spilled himself
with a satisfied groan. As he lazily let his wand do the cleaning, he propped his head on his
pillow, hands behind his head.

Shouldn’t there be some sort of proper payment, a thank you, to bestow upon someone who saved
you from a potentially life-threatening situation? Well, her situation hadn’t been exactly
*life-threatening,* but it threatened to make him hard each time he thought about it.

As he watched her through narrowed eyes across the Great Hall he barely felt the plate of roast
chicken being pushed in his chest by Goyle. With a withering look Malfoy took it and began heaping
his plate. He ate in silence, his pewter eyes clouded and his thoughts preoccupied. He caught
movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Ginny leave the Great Hall before dinner was
officially over. Pushing his plate away, he rose without warning and regally strode away.

Ginny walked the long corridor to the Gryffindor house. She paused in front of the Fat Lady to
give the password when she felt long, cold fingers wrap around her shoulders.

“Going to fetch my robe, are you?” he hissed silkily into her ear. His lips touched the
sensitive outer shell as he spoke. Ginny, although terrified into silence, could not repress the
frisson of sensation that streaked though her when his tongue touched her ear.

“Take care not to get anything on it, Princess. Else the males in my house will go crazy to
sniff it…” Malfoy muttered the password and shoved her though the painting, leaving her on the
other side sweating delicately and her chest heaving.

Ginny attempted to calm down but it was not many minutes before she had to leave for Potions.
She picked up the heavy robe as if it were made of fire and left the common room, looking down each
end of the corridor to make sure she was alone.

She was nearly late when she slid into her place beside Colin Creevey in Potions. He eyed the
expensive garment and knew to whom it belonged. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“The talk is dying down,” Colin said. “Now they’re mostly talking about the loss of points.”

“Mr. Creevey, Miss Weasley, if you continue to yammer in my classroom we can continue this
lesson after class,” said Snape, his beady black eyes glittering. Both shrank back in their seats
and looked suitably scared. Satisfied, Snape began his lesson but all Ginny could hear was a soft
snickering.

She struggled all through the double lesson. She was glad they were not actually making
something, for she knew her shaking hands would spill everything in sight.

She felt naked. She felt *visible.* The entire lesson she could have sworn Malfoy was
boring his pale eyes into the back of her head. She resisted the urge to turn around and see what
was going on that made her so uncomfortable.

Malfoy watched her. No, stared right through her might have better described it. She had pulled
her thick hair into a hasty bun secured with old quills. The creamy ivory skin on the back of her
neck gleamed back at him. A few auburn strands trailed on either side. He never thought he’d seen a
neck look so vulnerable. He couldn’t have been more fascinated with it if he’d been a vampire.

Class ended and like a magnificent bird Malfoy swept up the aisle and plucked his robe from the
edge of Ginny’s desk. Before she could say a word, he was out the door and out of sight. She
breathed a sigh of relief. *One test down, one to go*, she thought, remembering that she had
to ask Professor Snape for the key to the ingredients room. Her Potions kit was low on several
stores and she had to replenish them before the next week’s project.

“Do you need me to walk you back, Ginny?” Colin asked solicitously. She shook her head, allowing
more loose tendrils to fall from her knotted hair.

“No, Colin, he’s got his robe now and I’m sure he’s gone. Besides, I do need to stay after to
ask Snape if I can get some more items for my kit,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

“Well, okay then, I’ll be off. See you later,” he said, gathering his things. The rest of the
class filed out and Ginny went to Snape for the necessary items.

Malfoy stood in an unused classroom not far down the corridor. He was examining his robe for any
signs of deterioration. *Imagine, a Weasley with a robe this fine,* he thought. *She must
have been beside herself with glee.* He immediately checked to see if she had stolen his equally
fancy gloves. As he pulled out the right glove, he saw where she had repaired the missing
fingertip. With intense scrutiny he eyed the work. It was near perfect, with only a hair’s breadth
seam where she had replicated the cloth. Malfoy smiled in a feral sort of way. Replacing the gloves
and fastening the clasp, he noticed something he had not before.

His delicate nostrils twitched. A faint, crisp apple scent dove into his nose. He inhaled deeply
and thought it was possibly the next best thing to scenting her arousal. Growling to himself, he
left the classroom and headed back towards the Slytherin dormitories.

Ginny exited with her kit newly replenished. She walked quickly, nose in her Potions assignment
and trying to decide if she needed to stop at the library before retiring. She turned down a hall
two corridors before she should have.

Seeing her turn, Malfoy followed her silently. He pounced before she sensed his presence. He
quickly turned her to the right and faced her against the wall, making her drop everything she had
been carrying. She squeaked in surprise, the air knocked out of her.

Malfoy covered her back with his chest, his long leg half sliding between her legs so that she
mightn’t escape. For just one second, maybe less, the feel of his thigh between hers caused her to
clench around him, trying to steady her body from the dizzying shivers she was feeling.

“Hmm, Princess, I see you’ve cleaned it all up,” he said.

“Sod off, Malfoy, I even fixed your glove,” she forced out between gritted teeth. “I returned it
in better condition than which it came to me. Leave me be.”

“This is true, my Weasley dear. But there is still one question yet to be answered.” He took his
free hand and lightly scratched his fingernails down the back of her neck. He felt the tremors
coming from her and thought he might spill himself right there.

“Who, *Virgin*ia, who were you thinking of there in that shower? Who could possibly drive
you to such distraction?”

He opened his mouth and bit as much of her neck as possible. He scraped his teeth along her
hairline and then bit delicately where her neck and shoulders fused. The shudder and moan that
escaped her betrayed her staunch position and made Malfoy smile with pure male satisfaction.

“You’ll tell me one of these days soon. Until then, I’ll keep checking back.” He pushed off her
and turned on his heel, his tall black boots clicking on the cobblestones.



2. Sonitus nullus
-----------------

“Ginny! Ginny, you’ll be late for dinner if you don’t come down. I am *not* asking those
house-elves to bring you any more food,” Hermione said, stamping her foot. Ginny groaned and buried
her face even more in her pillow. She’d refused to go and eat dinner in the Great Hall for the past
three nights after being attacked (*Really, Ginny, he didn’t hurt you)* and there was no way
Hermione could be swayed any further on the house-elf front.

“Okay, okay,” she grumbled. She got up and felt like a shower. She’d been trying to take her
showers at off hours, not wanting to hear the other girls in adjacent stalls swooning about being
found by Malfoy in the shower.

While in the soothing spray, she thought about the object of her intimate fantasies. She changed
her train of thought. What to tell Malfoy? She’d lose either way. He would either believe her and
make fun of her or disbelieve her and continue tormenting her. When she thought about his teeth on
the back of her neck she shuddered and her skin pebbled with goose bumps. Her hands strayed and she
sighed heavily.

Where was the stupid prat? Since she was quickly becoming the center of his afternoon delights
he found that her face was fading from his memory. He needed to see her, to burn that visage into
his brain again. He noticed he hadn’t seen her at dinner for the past few days which was where he
planned to visually stalk her for a bit of fun.

When he entered the Great Hall he was relieved to see her sitting at the Gryffindor table. He
sauntered in as always, purposely wearing the robe she had worn. It titillated him to wear
something that would be so permanently etched in her memory.

When she accidentally caught his gaze over the tables, her mouth dropped. He let his features
turn into something close to a smile and rolled his neck to bring his nose closer to the collar of
the robe. His eyes dragged themselves closed and when he turned back to her he opened his eyes and
licked his lips.

There it was! He saw it. He’d heard she’d been sulking and upset, and the glint of indignation
in her eye cheered him immensely. There was no fun to his chasing her when she was despondent and
depressed. There was no fun in breaking that sort of creature. He really did wonder who she had
been thinking about, and lately it was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

He had no idea, and he supposed he didn’t care. But he had this urge to know, to torment her for
it. The look on her face when he caught her, the looks on her face when he’d cornered her were ones
he wanted to keep producing.

Suddenly he brightened. Double Potions day was coming up.

Merlin, but he was sexy. *Stop! Just stop. He hates you. He wants to make your life a living
hell. That pale arse!* It bothered her to know that she had, since their last encounter,
wondered what Malfoy might look like if he weren’t so glacially perfect. If that hair wasn’t gelled
to within an inch of its life, if his face relaxed, if he had his shirt off. It was patently
obvious that he’d been with a few Slytherin girls…ask any one of them and they claimed to have been
the ones, or knew the ones who had seen his tall, lithe body.

Ginny let these thoughts wander through her head during Transfiguration. McGonagall tapped her
sharply on the shoulder with her wand, once, and it was more than enough to push him from her
mind.

She worried most about the upcoming Potions class, and not just because Malfoy would be
there.

This week’s Potions would be held outside, in the near dark and freezing October night. She was
desperately grateful that it would at least be close to dark and no one would really be able to pay
attention to her robe. Her winter robe was painfully thin, she being the fourth to wear it. It hit
her at about her knees, not nearly long enough to keep her legs warm. She was going to get some
fabric in Hogsmeade to elongate it, but she’d forgotten last time and the next visit wasn’t for two
weeks.

Snape relished this particular Potions class because it was outside in the cold and dark,
something he liked. He was teaching another flammable potion, and didn’t feel it was prudent to
have someone like Longbottom in his precious classroom with that kind of power. His students began
to trickle outside, bundled in warm robes that brushed the ground.

There were tables set out for the students, each with a lamp that flickered brightly and all the
necessary ingredients. Everyone was in place except for Malfoy and young Miss Weasley.

Ginny came running out of the castle, afraid she was late. She rushed into her spot next to
Colin about the time that Malfoy came by. As he floated past his hand brushed Ginny’s backside. She
smothered a crude response and tried to compose herself.

“Malfoy,” Snape said carefully. “You’re late.” Draco stood above his classmates.

“So sorry, Professor. Only making sure Weasley came out of the shower long enough to come to
class.” Draco directed his insolent gaze to Ginny’s purple face. The class broke out into nervous
giggles that stopped immediately when Snape glared at them.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Malfoy.” Draco’s feral smile wasn’t reassuring at
*all.*

Halfway through Potions, Ginny was shivering so much that she could barely hold the glass vials.
They clanked together so much that even Colin tried to make them stop.

“Colin, it’s no use. I’ll break this stuff or mess up the potion if I keep on. I’ll just have to
pretend I’m working.” Colin nodded, about to speak when Snape cut him off.

“Malfoy, be so kind as to help check these pathetic potions,” Snape said. “Seeing as how you’re
done with yours.” Draco bowed slightly in deference. He exited his seat and headed straight for
Ginny and Colin.

He began to harangue them about their weak potion. She glared at him defiantly. Colin was not
much help; he was so cowed by the great Malfoy that he answered only in sycophantic nods. The
second Colin looked away Malfoy locked eyes with her.

“Who?” he mouthed. She resolutely turned her head.

“Colin!” Malfoy said.

“NO!” Ginny almost shouted. Both Malfoy and Colin looked at her, one puzzled and the other
merely pretending to be.

“No, what, Miss Weasley?” Ginny flushed again and closed her mouth tight.

“As I was beginning to say, Creevey, get back to work,” Malfoy said, moving on behind them but
not before he brushed up against her again. It took all she had not to scream at him and rip his
bloody head off. She shook her head in response to Colin’s questioning look.

As they worked through the last hour, Ginny began to feel almost uncomfortably warm. She looked
down. Her robe was brushing the ground.

Someone had charmed her.

After the horrific lesson was over, Ginny made up her mind. She stomped over to Malfoy’s desk,
came up behind him, and tugged on the neck of his robe so hard he nearly fell down.

“Twenty-five points fr-“ Malfoy began, but this time she came in front of him and grabbed his
robe and brought him close to her face.

“I don’t need your bleeding charity. Don’t ever charm me again. Leave me alone,” she said. She
pulled him closer, noses nearly touching. Her hand fisted tightly at the clasp of his robe.

“And if you ever surprise me again in the hallway I’ll make sure everyone knows you tried to do
something improper to me.”

He licked the tip of her nose.

With a disgusted noise, she shoved him back. She turned tail and he called after her.

“Not in the hallways.”

A few days later the subject of the Halloween ball came up.

Hermione and Ron were going together, after much bickering. Harry was taking a fifth year
Ravenclaw. Colin, Seamus and Dean tried to ask Ginny. Ginny knew it wasn’t really so much that they
wanted to ask her, but most likely had been threatened by Ron to escort her. She had declined every
invitation, mostly because she did not want to run into Malfoy at such a highly hormone-charged
event. It would be easy for him to corner her in the shadows of the Great Hall.

*Besides,* Ginny thought sadly, *any money I’d have spent on a costume is going to have
to go to getting new fabric for my robes.* She did welcome the silence though. After all the
hustle and bustle of the girls getting ready, she’d have four or five hours alone in her bedroom.
She planned to catch up on some reading, maybe write one of her upcoming Herbology essays, or maybe
just go to bed early. Yes, the latter certainly appealed to her. She was now looking forward to the
weekend.

She began making regular trips to the Great Hall again and just as regularly ignoring the steely
eyes that she knew were following her every move. It was tough not to look up and meet the gaze
full on, but she couldn’t trust herself.

Malfoy even left her alone during the Double Potions just before the ball. He came into class,
answered questions in his maddeningly lazy way and swept out without so much as a glance or a
touch.

Ginny heightened her watch that night. She was sure that in place of not bothering her in class
would make Malfoy think he had to do double duty. But he was nowhere to be found. She made her way
quickly back to the tower.

Malfoy instantly regretted asking Pansy Parkinson. The bint was shrill and really not very
comely. He’d shagged her three times when he just could not stand his hand or his stash of
*Playwizard* any more. The other two were just two girls who wouldn’t quit asking him for a
glimpse of the Malfoy staff. He shagged them to get it over with. With Pansy it had taken him what
seemed like days to get her cloying scent off his body, her shrieking voice out of his ears.

They stood on a magical staircase that Dumbledore created from which each person could show off
their costume and descend to the party. Pansy clung to his arm and teetered in her high heels that
she had elevated to six inches. She was at eye level with Draco and talking in her yowling
voice.

“I’m sorry, Pansy, what did you say?” Draco asked in a bored voice. The murderous look in her
eyes gleamed as she repeated whatever inane thing she had said before. He smiled emptily and
scanned the Great Hall for Ginny Weasley. He wanted to see what cute costume she could cobble
together with her precious little resources. He’d had an idea of the costume he wanted to see her
in. He signed inaudibly and put on his party face as he gracefully escorted Pansy down the steps.
He was forced to put a levitating charm on the chit lest she fall head over fake heels.

There were the usual gasps over how dashing Draco looked and how ridiculous Pansy looked. Pansy
had insisted that he go as Salazar Slytherin and she as his concubine. Pansy was covered in emerald
green velvet with gauzy wraps of silver that she claimed she bewitched to exactly match Draco’s
eyes. Said eyes rolled when he had seen her earlier that evening. She looked more like a Muggle
hussy, the kind he had seen when accompanying his father through the dregs of London.

Draco, on the other hand, had chosen to go simply. He wore Ginny’s robe (which was what he now
privately referred to it as) over an emerald green button-down shirt that gleamed as if it were
made of jewels. His pants were black leather. He had fastened the robe down far enough that it
revealed his pale throat above the green shirt. Around his neck hung a silver chain with a long
serpent charm.

He’d found a simple eye mask and transfigured his toothbrush into a paintbrush (not a good idea,
as he found out later). He conjured silver and glittery green paint and set to work. He’d created
intricate green swirls and lines around his eyes and the edges. He was rather satisfied with
himself…his father had never let him draw since he was a small child. Charming it with a sticking
charm, it rested lightly on the skin around his eyes and nose.

Ginny was thrilled to hear the chatter and the patter of feet die down. Several people had tried
to coax her into a last minute costume. She declined each invitation with a smile, telling them
that she was desperately behind in some of her reading. She settled into her bed and pulled the
curtains on three of the four sides, leaving the side open that faced the window. She loved her
view; she could see the lake and lots of stars. She often curled up in the window seat to read or
watch thunderstorms beat relentlessly on the glass.

Tonight, though, she just wanted to open the window and get some fresh air. That would be nearly
impossible without freezing, she thought, for the temperature was dipping low. Sighing, she slipped
into her nightclothes, a too-long tee shirt that read “See Romania” on it in flashing letters. Or,
it *had* flashed, she reflected. It was so old it just finally gave up.

She slid into her bed, the sheets clean and warm thanks to the house-elves. She pulled her red
down comforter up around her and closed her eyes.

Draco had had enough. He’d almost asked Ron where his silly little sister was, but wisely
decided that asking Ron in the first place *and* in front of Pansy wouldn’t be the smartest
move he’d ever made in his life.

“Pansy, would you like some punch?” he asked. Her eyes brightened.

“Why, yes I would, Draco. How thoughtful!” He pulled back his lips in some semblance of a smile
and set off.

Once he got outside ten meters of her he shook his head. It would never occur for her to look
for him, because she’d assume he was talking with friends. She couldn’t move that well on her own
anyhow. He let his face relax when he was outside the Great Hall and smiled for the first time, a
real smile, knowing that he’d just ditched the belle of the ball. He set off towards
Gryffindor.

When he reached the Fat Lady, she gave him a disapproving look. What was it with these
Gryffindors? Even the *paintings* hated him. He gave his Head Boy password
(*parselmouth*) and the painting swung open sullenly. He ignored it and went directly up the
stairs that led to the sixth and seventh year dorms. He stopped in front of her door, which was
covered in her and her absent roommate’s names and little pictures from the *Daily
Prophet*.

There was no light and he wondered if she was even there. *Bloody hell, should have checked
the library first,* he thought. He didn’t want to do an *Alohamora* to unlock the door
either, as it would make a sound. Tentatively, he tried the door. It swung open.

In the faint moonlight he could see that the drapes of the bed closest to the window were
closed. He shut the door behind him, hearing only a faint click as the door eased into place.
Silently he picked his way to her bed. He stood at the foot of it listening to the sound of her
quiet breathing and imagining he could also see the soft rise and fall of her breasts.

Realizing one side of her drapes were open, he moved to the other side.

For someone who had never proclaimed anything beautiful he was damn close to admitting it
now.

“*Sonitus* *nullus*,” he whispered to the room at large. The soundproofing charm would
keep whatever happened in there silent to the outside world.



3. Adsector Draco
-----------------

She was pillowed in the rich softness of her comforter. She was half-turned on her side, facing
him. Hands were flung above her head, though whether as a sign of surrender or seduction he wasn’t
sure. Her hair was settled on the pillow and reflected the moonlight. Another pillow or two rested
beside her, underneath the blankets. He moved closer to her and touched the delicate skin of her
inner arm with one long elegant finger.

He knelt and was at face level. He ran the backs of both his hands over this same skin, knowing
that if he used his Quidditch-roughened palms she’d immediately feel the difference.

She twitched, stretching and bringing her arms down. Draco didn’t move fast enough. She came in
contact with his retreating hands and caught one, instantly awake. Her eyes opened and she screamed
full out in his face.

“Gods, Ginny, you’re going to wake the dead,” he said easily, his visage reforming into a
sneer.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, clutching her comforter tightly to her neck.

“I have ended my Halloween evening prematurely, to what will be Ms. Parkinson’s immense dismay,
to carry out my Head Boy duties.”

“And what exactly are those?” she bit out.

“Why, patrolling the corridors, of course. Who’s to say I wouldn’t hear a ‘disturbance’?”

“And who’s to say they won’t hear *my* disturbance?” Ginny retorted. She began to sit up in
bed, Draco noticed, and readying to fight him. She clearly believed it would come to that; her
small hands fisted angrily.

Before he could deliver an answer, she swung her feet around and gave him a kangaroo kick to the
upper chest. He toppled backwards, cursing. She followed her kicking path and came to stand up
straight in front of him.

He righted himself only to contend with a furious pixie more than a head shorter. Muttering a
counter-spell he removed his mask so that he could use his commanding eyes to their full effect. He
threw it on the floor. His mocking sneer bubbled and he advanced on her, taking the smallest steps
possible.

“Get out of my room, Malfoy. I told you to stop coming after me. I mean nothing in your whole
scheme of things,” she said, reaching for her wand. His hand shot out and he caught her wrist in
his icy grip.

“Hex me and you’ll have to explain me in your room!” he said roughly. Her once-confident
expression immediately turned to one of fear. Her mouth dropped in a small o of surprise.

He leaned down right in her face.

“Remember this?” He licked her nose and while she was reacting, caught her bottom lip between
his own. He bit it sharply and tasted one sweet droplet of coppery blood. She gasped in pain.

His mouth took hers roughly, biting her lips and tongue to make her open further to him. She
writhed against his questing tongue.

Ginny felt herself being picked up and thrown onto her bed. She was fighting Malfoy as hard as
she could, but the sensations of his near-painful bites drove her to distraction. Raising her hands
she raked her fingernails down his cheeks as hard as she could. He grunted, feeling her sharp
little claws branding him.

“You’ve marked me, you spiteful bitch,” he exclaimed.

Her eyes turned fiery. “You’re a bastard,” she growled in a voice that was not her own. Draco
stood back, turning to admire himself in her mirror. He turned back to her, his pale face marked by
four long thin livid welts on either cheek.

She was standing again, long tee-shirt hitting above her knees. She began edging towards the
door.

“Go one step more and I’ll immobilize you,” he said angrily. He began advancing on her.

Ginny stood rooted, unsure of his next move. She didn’t care to test his proficiency with his
wand. He stopped in front of her. She hung her head in shame, feeling a growing heat slide over her
sensitized skin. He stood so close that her breasts brushed against his chest with each tremulous
breath she took.

Suddenly she felt the tip of his tongue behind her earlobe. He began touching it all over her
face, ears and neck. *Like a damned snake*, she thought, *he’s sniffing me with his
tongue.* When he trailed his tongue over her bruised and swollen lips, she turned her head away,
face hidden by her hair. She could not stop the bone-deep shudder that shook her body. Instantly
Malfoy stopped, pulling back with a snarl. She looked up at the sound to see that his face had
become blotchy with animalistic rage. *He does have a heart*, she thought desperately. *Else
he wouldn’t be so red-faced.*

“Have you ever felt more revulsion for a human being?” he whispered, gray eyes becoming
thunderclouds. “Do you find the idea of my touch so repulsive?” he whispered again, his voice an
octave lower. His face contorted in fury. Without taking his gaze off her worried firewhiskey eyes,
he shouted “*Accio* gloves!”

From the pockets of his fine robe came the gloves. They hovered in front of him.

“Perhaps, Virginia, you will feel less uncomfortable with my gloves taking over. *So you won’t
feel my Slytherin filth on your body*!” he yelled.

*“Adsector Draco*!” he shouted, and the gloves followed the movement of his hands. A glazed
look came into his eyes. They focused on hers once more. He backed up.

His gloves hung in the air, gleaming dully in the pale moonlight. They had filled out as if they
were covering flesh and blood hands. He pointed to Ginny’s head and made a petting motion. One
glove came down softly over her hair, stroking it. She could feel the heat from it warming her
scalp like sunshine. She shied away immediately, trying to escape them. From beside her, Draco
laughed mirthlessly.

“Maybe my gloves can pry a name out of you,” he mused, sending the gloves after her retreating
form.

She swatted at them, only making the gloves come after her more vigorously. One handed and
caressed her hip while the other touched her cheek. She stole a glace at Draco while dancing around
and was infuriated to see his hands flexing and moving as if he were touching her himself.

*But he is,* she reminded herself frantically.

“Malfoy, make them stop,” she pleaded when one brushed against her breast. She began to move
again but found herself almost in a corner. As she turned to find a way out, both gloves came over
her behind and cupped gently, kneading. She couldn’t control the instant rush of heat that pooled
in the center of her body while trying to hide the guilt and frustration on her face.

His glacial stare was almost obscured by platinum strands of hair covering his eyes. He stalked
her like a lithe cat, predatory and precise. She had no choice but to back against the wall. She
tried to stand her ground but shook as the gloves stroked her body.

“There there, Ginny. Doesn’t it make you feel better to know *I* am not touching you?” he
growled, coming to stand directly in front of her. He placed his hands on the wall above her
shoulders, his forehead nearly touching hers. She wrestled with herself to keep still despite the
gloves, which were fluttering dangerously near her thighs. She forced herself to watch him, knowing
she couldn’t bear to see his fingers creating intricate patterns for his gloves to follow.

“So, Weasley, it’s time for a little give and take. You give me what I want and I’ll take what I
want. How’s that?” he whispered into her ear. She didn’t answer, merely grit her teeth.

“NO!” she screamed when the gloves tugged down her knickers. Frantically she reached down,
trying to dislodge them. He grabbed her forearms and with one hand held her slender wrists captive
above her head. The other swiftly shoved her hips forward, making her more vulnerable to the
gloves’ attack. The heat emanating from his palm burned her like a brand.

“Please don’t do this to me, Malfoy,” she half-sobbed as a glove went back up her shirt and
parted her folds.

“Come now, Ginny, that can’t hurt any more than what you were doing in the shower,” he said.
“Less, I’d guess.”

There was no way to intimate to Malfoy exactly how much it hurt.

He watched her body shudder slightly as his glove doubtless began to stroke the nerve-filled
bundle at the top of her thighs. He could see tears begin to roll down her cheeks as she struggled
vainly to keep the gloves from their mission. Draco removed his wand from his pocket.

“Look at me, Ginny!” he demanded. She raised her head a few centimeters. “More!” She met his
steely gaze and almost maniacal smile. He took the tip of his wand and muttered the cutting charm.
Instantly the seams of her tee shirt split in half at the shoulders, allowing it to fall just above
the swell of her breasts.

“Who was it, Ginny?” He dropped his head to study the curve of her shoulder. He raked his teeth
over her ivory skin and felt triumphant. “Are you sure it wasn’t dear Colin Creevey? That he didn’t
want an extra *something* in return for helping you with Potions?” He bit her sharply between
her shoulder and neck.

“NO!” she cried. “It isn’t Colin!” She began to say something more but her breath hitched. Draco
could feel her body trembling. No doubt she was coming close to her release. He slowed the rhythm
of the gloves and her eyes popped open in surprise. Draco’s heart raced in unimaginable excitement.
He could feel himself hardening against his trousers.

He dropped his head once more and began biting her. He bit the very tops of her breasts, then
came back to lick them before he went to her other shoulder. Her body began to tense.

“Of course! Strapping Seamus. He wanted to stick you but you femininely refused,” Draco said
brightly before delivering a particularly rough bite under her left jaw.

Ginny’s body was thrumming. She was drenched in sweat and the slight perfume of her arousal.
Fear and loathing had a place in there as well. She would not tell him. Never. Ever.

“No, ruddy toad, it isn’t Seamus!” she said defiantly, despite the emotions tumbling through her
body. Draco was enraged.

“*Nullify adsector!*” Draco strangled out. Obediently they dropped and raced into his
robe’s pockets.

Draco shoved himself against Ginny, no wrist-pinning required now. His own hand raced up her
shirt and bunched it around her waist.

“Maybe you need a bit more persuasion,” he sneered. His thumb began to frantically rub at the
ball of nerves that would rock her core. She gasped and tried to push him away.

He felt her slick heat and knew he could not stop. He took his free hand and jerked her
tearstained face up to look at him. The hatred in her eyes glazed over when he smoothly entered her
with two long fingers. The stretching surprised her and he felt her contract over him. He began to
curve and tickle his fingers inside her.

She could not tear her gaze away from his. For a fleeting moment she remembered her wondering
reverie, pondering what he would look like when everything wasn’t polished and pomaded. His eyes
had dilated to where she could not tell where the irises ended and the pupils began. His hot breath
brushed over her lips and she inhaled the cologne that she had only scented in a few stolen
moments.

“What’s the matter, Ginny? He wouldn’t do this for you, is that why you had to take care of
yourself? Must be Dean Thomas, he’d never know how to even find a quim.”

“It isn’t him!” she yelled. He smiled nastily.

“If you can’t put your mouth to good use, I’ll just have to make it worth my while,” he
said.

His lips crashed down on hers. Her mouth was already open, gasping from the unwanted dark
pleasure that coursed her veins. His tongue captured hers and sucked on it, scraping it with his
teeth. She moaned and tried to struggle free. Her movement lifted her hips and only succeeded in
driving his fingers deeper.

His thumb flicked her hard as his fingers dragged over the spot within her. A choked yell
escaped her lips. She thought she was falling, falling, falling into nothingness. She instinctively
grabbed his robe to steady herself. Her nerves shattered and black heat shimmered over her
eyes.

Draco’s breathing was broken. As he watched Ginny reach completion he tried to memorize her
humiliated and flushed face as he drank of her lips one final time. She clutched at his robe and he
disentangled himself. He saw her slide to the floor on boneless legs. Her hand flew to her mouth to
choke back a sob. Without allowing himself to care he exited the room.

Hours later Ginny tossed and turned in her rumpled sheets. The very center of her ached from
Malfoy’s onslaught and something else she could not define. Tears leaked hot and dampened the fine
hair at her temples. It occurred to her that every time she had cried during their encounter was
out of sheer frustration. She *always* lost the upper hand. She knew she should have been
upset, after all, what Draco had done to her was surely grounds for expulsion if she chose to
report him. She couldn’t muster enough anger.

*Why can’t you just tell him?*

*Because he’ll torment me either way.*

*Maybe he’ll get tired of the game.*

*Maybe hell will freeze over.*

Draco returned to his room, flushed and sweating. He thanked the gods (and Lucius) for his
private room. It meant he wouldn’t have to pass Pansy in the common room. He wanted nothing to
interfere with his mental replays.

As he stripped he could still sense her lingering scent. He recalled her thick hair giving off
its crisp apple smell, the heat from her distressed head releasing it.

As he lay nude on his emerald bedcovers, he reflected on his own anger.

*I caught her naked and being naughty.*

*I want to know!*

*Maybe I can break her.*

*Maybe she’ll forget she wants to fight me.*



4. Diffindo
-----------

The next few days passed in relative solitude. Malfoy’s advances seemed to stop. He longer
brushed against her as he went by her to his Potions desk. He only rarely glared at her over the
heads in the Great Hall.

Draco spent the deepest, darkest part of the nights questioning himself. Why was he so intent on
finding out the object of her affection? *Must be Potter,* he mentally snarled. *She’s
always followed* him *around. And who knows why? Not like he’s going to notice her. Gods, she
went and got herself a boyfriend while Potty was all hung up over Cho Chang. Even* I *knew
that before* he *did.*

Not only was he disgusted with himself for wanting to know, but also because she was a
*Weasley.* Sworn Malfoy enemy.

*I must be really bored,* he thought, *if I’ve resigned myself to getting my kicks out of
exclusively tormenting a Weasley.*

Ginny hoped fervently that Malfoy would leave her alone while she was in Hogsmeade. After all,
three of her friends and the Trio were day-tripping there as well. After enjoying a butterbeer in
The Three Broomsticks she broke off from the group to go to Madam Taryn’s fabric shop.

Once outside she observed Malfoy exiting the clothier’s with a package beneath his arm. He
looked both ways, suspiciously, as if he were being followed. The swift breeze lifted his hair and
swirled it around his face. She giggled under her breath watching him try to hold it down. With his
face in the wind, cheeks slightly pinked, she thought him very handsome. Unbidden, her mind
conjured his image of a few nights ago. She felt a hitch low in her belly. His flushed face and
lusty eyes had haunted her dreams ever since.

It was too bad, really, that he had to be so haughty and high-brow. She sighed, knowing that
even if he didn’t have the money and prestige he would never associate with her kind. It was the
born and bred superiority in him.

She suddenly realized that she was quite visible standing on the porch of the restaurant. She
moved back toward the door, lest Malfoy be headed that way. She poked her head out once more and
saw no trace of him. Conducting her own cautious survey, she determined that the path to Madam
Taryn’s was Malfoy-free.

Once inside she let her guard down and began to inspect the gorgeous fabrics she could never
afford to buy. She let her hand slide down the smooth satins and the diaphanous silks. Walking past
the display she headed towards the plain cottons and denims, towards the day-to-day basic blacks.
She found the right material, but was ashamed to note that the lustrous black of the new fabric
would never match the faded upper half of her robe. She sighed but selected the fabric anyway. Idly
she wondered if Madam Taryn could change it for her.

Ginny cut the amount that she needed and went to the counter to pay. Madam Taryn smiled at her
and began to ring up her purchase. The cloth was more Galleons than she imagined.

“Uh, Madam, is it possible you could bewitch the upper half of my robe to match this?” Ginny
asked.

“That’s five Galleons and seven sickles more, miss. The only problem I see is that the color
spell has to have something less, er, *tenuous* to hold on to.” Ginny gazed down at her shabby
robe and noticed for the first time that she could see the colors of her school uniform peeking
through.

“Uh, no, thank you,” Ginny said hurriedly. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the
ground. Madam Taryn gave her a few knuts as change and Ginny had to fight both tears and the urge
to run right out of the shop.

She exited the store blindly, wiping her eyes. An arm snaked around her waist and before she
could say anything, she and the arm disapparated.

“You!” she said, slapping him hard before he knew what hit him.

“Merlin, you’re an obstinate chit,” he rejoined, rubbing his cheek. “Your little claw marks are
only beginning to fade.”

“Maybe if you didn’t do this to me, you wouldn’t have to worry. Where are we? I demand to be let
go.” She stamped her foot in frustration. Draco smiled in spite of himself.

The room was certainly well-appointed, with a soft light glowing from sconces on the wall. There
were a few overstuffed chairs, a sofa, and a table and chairs set.

“Have no fear, this is a room my father owns in Hogsmeade for meetings,” Draco said smoothly.
She sneered. *Where did that come from?* He continued.

“I thought I might make this easy on you, Weasel. You tell me who you’re pining after and I’ll
leave you alone.”

Ginny gathered as much of her nerve around her as possible.

“Look, Malfoy, get over it, all right? Maybe I don’t fancy anyone, did you ever think of that?
What possible reason would you need to know anyhow? Because I know all you plan to do is bother me
for the rest of the year. *I* don’t ask *you* why you fancy that silly bint Parkinson,
she’s got a face like a pug!”

Draco allowed a quirk of his lips. Ginny caught sight of his smirk and fought not to slap him
again because he was *such* a *boy.*

Here was a girl after his own heart, using his own words to describe the decidedly dog-like
Pansy. “Jealous?”

“Sod off, rotter. The day I’m jealous of Pansy Parkinson I hope I die.”

“Temper, temper,” he said lightly.

“Why do you insist in making me miserable?” she rejoined, determined to let his remarks roll off
her.

“Oh, I don’t know, Weasel, one can only harass the perfect triumvirate for so long before it
becomes a bore. You’re much more interesting.” He paused. “Aside from that, I’ve *never* seen
a girl look quite like you did.”

She harrumphed and crossed her arms. Turning on her heel, she threw one back at him. “Maybe you
don’t know what you’re doing, then.” Her stomach turned immediate flip-flops; she couldn’t believe
she’d just told a Malfoy he lacked something. She couldn’t help but smile inwardly and offer
herself congratulations.

She let out a rush of air as Malfoy pulled her sharply back against his front, again sliding his
leather-clad thigh between hers. The buttery feel of it between her legs made her almost
light-headed.

“How would you know, Weasley?” he whispered, sliding her slowly against his person.

“Oh, you know, just what I hear,” she said, feeling his burgeoning member snug against her
buttocks.

“And exactly what do they say, *Virgin*ia?”

Ginny swallowed her heart before replying, determined to throw him off-guard.

“That you muddle around, you know, and that you lack, uh, *skills.*” There, she’d said it.
Of course, it was completely the antithesis of anything she’d ever heard, but insulting the pride
and know-how of a Malfoy was an enriching life experience.

His hands gripped her hips so hard he knew she would be bruised come nightfall. A growl the
likes of which he’d never heard before rumbled out of his chest. He could see the wispy hair at her
temples and the strands that fell over her neck dampened with sweat. Reaching around, he flicked
the clasp of her robe. It fell to the ground, a pool of black at his feet. He bounced her once,
hard, on his thigh. A soft *oh* issued from her lips. He began to sink slowly to his knees,
his vise-like grip following. He suddenly wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him when she raked her
fingernails down his face. But not where anyone could see. He simply could not let go of the things
she said, what the other girls said. His mind pushed aside the fact that he was so intent on
injuring an innocent girl, both mind and body.

The pain from his grip made Ginny tremble. His hands were locked onto her calves, holding her
immobile. The feel of his fingers pressing between her muscles made her bite her lip to keep
suddenly real tears at bay. He dispensed a rough bite on the back of her right knee. She felt the
sharp sting as he drew blood. She could not hold her body still when he did it again. The shaking
dislodged hot tears down her suddenly clammy cheek. He was not playing any more.

“Draco,” she said quietly, just above a whisper. “Please don’t hurt me.” The shock of her words
completely unmanned him. He relaxed his grip to ease the pressure but not enough to allow her
escape. He rested his head against the back of her thigh, the wool of her skirt chaffing his cheek.
All thoughts of inflicting pain, mental or physical, seemed to fly right out the window.

“Did I hurt you before?” he choked out, not believing how close he had come to losing his
hard-won emotional control. She stood silently and didn’t answer.

“Answer me!” he rasped. “Did I hurt you, Ginny?”

She’d never heard him say her name before. Virginia didn’t count. This was dark and oddly
caressing, something she was sure was unintended. He shook her legs, reminding her that it was her
turn.

“No. You didn’t hurt me.” *Physically.*

He seemed to sag against her.

He heard her draw in another breath as if to say something.

“Don’t speak.”

He removed his wand from his pocket. He pointed it in turn to the flickering wall sconces, all
but one sputtering out.

“Nox,” he muttered softly. He felt as much as heard her soft gasp.

She felt his roughened palms gliding up the outside of her legs. They went slowly, allowing her
to feel every Quidditch-earned scar and callus. For what seemed like an interminable time, he
repeated these strokes. She couldn’t understand his gentleness. It frankly unnerved her. She almost
wished for Malfoy’s strident manner; she’d know how to deal with him then.

She felt his body move, having had been pressed against the backs of her legs. When she realized
he was sliding his torso between her legs, she struggled to catch her breath. He abandoned her legs
to press her skirt upward and around her waist.

*Why does it have to be him?*

*No, Malfoy, you’re not hurting me.*

He slid the tip of his wand up her right leg to where he was staring at the red satin panties
she wore.

“*Diffindo*.” The splitting charm made them halve and fall to her sides.

His fingers crept upward to the swell of her buttocks. He kneaded them and elicited a forbidden
moan from Ginny’s lips.

*You have to tell him.*

*I can’t take much more of this.*

Slowly he gravitated toward the core of her. His fingers stroked the opening he had invaded a
scant few nights ago. She immediately tensed, hot tears leaking out as she remembered her
humiliation.

She was almost undone when he pressed kisses against the back of her thighs, almost as if he
knew why she was flinching.

“I will show you that I have skills,” he whispered against her soft skin. “I know who it is
now.” *Do you, Malfoy? Do you really?*

Her thoughts were cut off when his burning tongue touched her most secret of places.

He stroked his tongue almost leisurely, gently around her. He tasted the heat of her desire and
found himself memorizing it. The embers of jealousy smoldered deeply within him. Knowing she was
surely holding out for Potter made him all the more determined to show her just how skilled he was,
and how he was twice the man Potter would ever be. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see how she
looked when it was *he* who brought her to the same ecstasy she had been driving towards in
the shower.

He broke off and he swore he heard a soft puff of distressed air. Pushing on her legs, he made
her turn round. He caught her eye and made sure she saw him descend on her again. Made sure she saw
him giving her pleasure. His lips caught the sleek knot of her arousal. He suckled it slowly,
circling it repeatedly.

He moved forward, easing his tongue into her.

A moan escaped her lips. She went on her tiptoes and he followed her, both holding her steady
and reaching as far inside her as he could. When he began his rhythm she could not help rocking
with him. When he finally let that part of her go, she heard herself growl and wished in that
second she could reclaim the breath that stole it from her lips. He looked up at her, gray eyes
dark in the flickering candlelight. He gave her a smile that was part smug and something else she
could not decipher in that moment.

“Tell me, can sweet famous Potter make you do that?”

*He thinks it’s Harry.* He repeated his question more forcefully, flicking his tongue on
her.

“No, he can’t,” she struggled to say. Malfoy seemed satisfied.

He went back to his ministrations, touching deeply inside her with his tongue. He must have
decided she was steady enough to stand on her own, because he released one hand and brought it up
to meet his tongue.

He eased his long and narrow fingers into her, feeling honeyed slickness marking his way.

She did not realize that she was riding his fingers ever so gently, encouraged by his slowly
rocking hand on her hip.

*I can’t believe I’m letting this happen.*

*All it’s going to do is hurt me in the end.*

*Why can’t I make him stop?*

*Because I don’t want to.*

She moaned again without heeding the consequences.

Draco smiled again, feeling her soft flesh contracting rhythmically around his slender fingers.
He leaned down again and pressed hot circles around her center.

“I can tell you’re getting close, Ginny. Why don’t you tell me that you want more? Your body is
telling me,” he murmured against her. He wondered if she would speak. He knew she wanted nothing
more than for him to be someone else and the thought galled him. He redoubled his pace in her
silence, feeling her body respond recklessly.

“And every time you speak his name he’ll never know how you took your pleasure with me.”

His fingers and tongue became frenzied on her now. Her hands came down to recklessly hold his
head to her. His other hand dug into her backside, opening her as far as possible to his marauding
touch. She whimpered as her climax began to rage darkly through her body. She lowered her head and
saw his burning gaze as he drank of her.

“*Dra-co,*” she said loudly, her voice cracking, not caring. “It’s *you.*”

Instantly he disapparated.



5. Author
---------

A/N: I would just like to say (because I forgot it in the first chapter) thank you all the
wonderful authors on Portkey who have made me a DG shipper. I did not try to take anyone’s ideas,
save for *Playwizard* and I don’t know who to credit that with. If there’s something that
screams “Hey, that’s *my* story!” please tell me immediately. I do not wish to steal from
other authors.

By the way, this is my first HP fanfic. Please read and review, thanks to the totally awesome
Manda (whereistruth on ff.net, read her excellent *Tangerine Lark* HP fic) for beta-ing this
and for encouragement and lots of yummy ideas.



6. Red Satin
------------

A/N: After re-reading my story again, I found some continuity errors, for one, Draco has said
Ginny’s name several times. So, please forgive me my mistake, and I will fix them tomorrow. For
those of you who think nothing is going to happen, please chew on this and know that yes, Virginia,
there *is* going to be a main event. I’d appreciate it if you reviewed, just to let me know
that there’s *something* decent about it.

She tried not to recall their abrupt ending in the room that turned out to be above The Three
Broomsticks. She tried to forget that she’d fallen to her knees sobbing, ruing her slip of the
tongue. But she couldn’t help remembering. She dreamt of him almost nightly, hoping that maybe,
just once, he would stay. He always left.

After he’d disappeared she’d cried herself out. When she finally had the strength to stand, she
tried to right her clothes and her hair. She searched frantically for her panties, but they were
nowhere to be found. She disapparated outside, the cool air rushing up her skirt and worrying her
passion-swelled center. As she walked she felt the aftershocks of pleasure and couldn’t suppress
her dark reaction.

He’d not spoken to her since, never tormented her or pushed her up against walls in unused
corridors. He never so much looked her way. She found herself desperately seeking some sort of
acknowledgement that she existed.

Her studies began to falter somewhat, and her friends seemed to be worried about her. She was
continually pale and drawn, and not even Ron could ferret out the reason. She blamed her
increasingly difficult course load for her lack of sparkle. Everyone was mostly forced to leave her
alone. And that was what she preferred.

*I’m being ridiculously girly about this. I was foolish to think that I could ever reach his
heart when it’s so plainly made of stone. I should be happy that he’s simply let me alone. All I
did was give him a show. And something to smirk about.*

And then she spent the rest of the time wondering why she wanted to reach his heart.

Thanksgiving came and Ginny hadn’t the strength to go to the Great Hall for the lavish dinner.
She decided she’d get some food from the house-elves later. She holed up in her room and did her
homework. She had finally made the decision to forget Malfoy. There was nothing there for her. So
why let her studies suffer? She felt a surge of power and a smile for the first time in weeks.

Hours later, when everyone was in bed, Ginny snuck out of the portrait hole and headed down the
corridor towards the vast kitchens. She turned the corner and collided directly with Malfoy’s
chest.

He’d removed his robes and had them slung over his arm. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, his
silver and green Slytherin tie loosened. His black pants were tucked into his calf-length boots.
Ginny hurriedly backed up, rubbing her squashed nose. Draco allowed himself a smoky smile.

“Well, Weasley, what are you doing out of bed so late?” he drawled, taking in her disheveled
appearance. She hesitated and he narrowed his eyes.

“I, er, I was going to the kitchen. I didn’t go to the Thanksgiving dinner. I’m famished,” she
said hurriedly, the words tripping off her tongue.

“Yes, I noticed your absence. Any particular reason?” he probed. Her eyes danced, hoping to
alight on anything but his piercing eyes.

He watched her eyes widen in surprise when her gaze rested on his breast pocket. A small square
of red satin was folded there, handkerchief-style. Her mouth dropped and he enjoyed her dismay
immensely. He had to hold back a laugh.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I didn’t want to!” she whispered hoarsely. He debated making her repeat it directly to his
face, staring into his eyes. He decided against it. Instead he lifted his wand and tipped her chin
up.

He saw the instant of terror that flashed across her chocolate eyes. He rolled his.

“I’m not going to charm you, for Merlin’s sake. Get to the kitchens and back in five minutes, or
I’ll *personally* put you to bed.”



7. Author
---------

Author’s Note to reviewers:

Thank you for pointing out the Thanksgiving mistake. I apologize. Please think of it now as the
Autumn Feast. If I could go back without losing all my reviews I would fix the little mistakes.
Also, I want to say I’m sorry for implying the Ron/Hr pairing. I should have switched it, so please
don’t flame me. I hope to begin working on the final section tonight and possibly have it uploaded
Wednesday night. Thank you again for reading and reviewing.



8. Midnight Visitor
-------------------

AN: I’m posting this so you know I haven’t abandoned you. **SexyTexy**, I know you didn’t
flame me, just trying to acknowledge my forbidden pairing. But thank you for clarifying! To
everyone else: Thank you for the honest reviews, and for alerting me to my mistakes. I’m trying to
make less, but at least until Friday my books are at home and I’m at school. So, please forgive a
poor school-beleaguered writer her faults. I’ve been overwhelmed by the amount of people who like
this fic, and to you all I’m beholden. Also, when I do get to finally finish this, I am going to
attempt to keep everyone in character as much as possible, but you all know that even in real life
with real emotions it’s hard to follow the thin white line exactly. So, humor me!

Ginny returned, flushed and laden with treats from the kitchens. The entry to Gryffindor Tower
was empty. Somewhat crestfallen, she entered the portrait hole and retired to her bedroom.

As the holidays approached Ginny was less upset about not seeing Malfoy. He’d not bothered her
since running into him outside Gryffindor Tower, and really, that was just a coincidence. She found
her existence a bit more peaceful when she could concentrate on her studies again. One downfall was
whenever Ron would make fun of Malfoy or bemoan some new problem with him, Ginny felt desire
skittering low in her body. She couldn’t will it away.

She spent more time in her room, preparing for exams. Often she perched in the window seat,
gazing out over the lake. An unseasonably cold snap fell over December and a fluffy covering of
snow remained over the grounds.

Ginny began to notice what appeared to be an extremely faint light emanating from one of the
gentle swells of land near her side of the lake. When she only saw it a few nights a week, she
began to wonder who or what was out there. No one else with the same view seemed to notice or even
speak of it, so she kept her mouth shut. It didn’t really bother her; after all, if there was
something amiss on the grounds Hagrid would have surely notified Dumbledore.

Finally exams came for the term and Ginny was glad for them to be over. Students began to
prepare to leave for the long holiday. Frankly, she was just glad to be done with school for the
time being. She looked forward to long hours spent in her room in front of the fireplace reading
some of the illicit romance novels she’d ordered from the book store in Diagon Alley. She couldn’t
wait for everyone to take their leave.

Ron and Harry stayed, of course. Hermione and Malfoy had to, which meant that she’d definitely
see more of him, intended or not. *That* was one deadly sharp double-edged sword.

Hogwarts was decorated for the December holidays with gaily burning floating candles and
evergreen boughs. The pleasant atmosphere relaxed Ginny and she even enjoyed the crisp cold when
she opened her window to stare aimlessly at the mysterious glow outside.

Christmas Eve dawned bright and sunny. Many of the remaining students went outside and mucked
around in the snow, chucking snowballs at one another or demonstrating transfiguration and flying
spells with the compact projectiles. McGonagall, who watched from her office window, allowed a
triumphant smile when she saw a particularly interesting or difficult transfiguration take
place.

Ginny, Ron, Harry and even Hermione joined the fun. They pelted one another with snow and
laughed and ran around like maniacs. Ginny consented to let the three build a snowwoman around her
and she laughed so much she thought she’d gone mad.

Her cold-reddened face turned a deeper shade when she cast her glance on the steps that led
outside.

Malfoy stood in all his sartorial splendor, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He looked the world
like a Machiavellian lord surveying his peasants. His arms were crossed and his cool gaze flicked
over the students playfully tangled below him. When his eyes came to rest on the snow-covered Ginny
she thought she’d become so hot she’d spontaneously combust. The snow couldn’t be brushed off her
fast enough. When she thought she’d recovered enough to meet his gaze he and his cohorts had
gone.

The four of them came in shortly after Ginny spotted Malfoy. She wanted to get inside and not be
anything short of spic and span before she was forced to see him at the holiday dinner. Her
embarrassment at being caught in such a childish game rankled Ginny. She knew it was harmless fun,
but being coolly derided by a Malfoy’s icy gaze was more than enough to put one in one’s place. She
knew Malfoy would never be so carefree and light-hearted to join in a bit of fun.

After she thought about it some more, she decided that she felt sorry for him. He’d probably
never been allowed to play.

Later that night Ginny joined the remaining Gryffindors at their table. The food was delicious,
conversation light and peace was heavy. Ginny realized that for all the subdued manners, everyone
seemed to glow with an inner light. She’d never before realized just how comforting and energizing
being with her friends could be.

She lifted her head and snuck a glance at Malfoy. He seemed gruff and cold as always. Idly Ginny
wondered what it would take to light up those gray eyes that were really quite beautiful.

Ginny and the other Gryffindors returned to the tower for a big game of Exploding Snap.
Butterbeers and laughs were exchanged. Ginny was content to curl on the sofa and watch everyone
with a beatific countenance. She slowly grew fatigued and bid everyone good night.

She readied for bed and a house-elf appeared and stoked her fire, bidding her a happy Christmas.
She smiled in response and then she was alone. Crawling into bed, she anticipated the morning and
the presents it would bring. *Mum’s sweater, Hermione’s book, Harry’s box of chocolates...*
She knew that a small pile of these sorts of gifts would appear magically. She ran over her list of
gifts she’d purchased in Hogsmeade during the December visit and gave to the house-elves to
distribute for her. Satisfied that she’d completed everything, she allowed herself to fall deeply
asleep.

Sometime after curfew, a sharp tapping on her window awakened Ginny. It was an ebony owl trying
to gain entrance to her closed window. She rubbed sleep-crusted eyes and nearly stumbled trying to
get to the window. The owl rushed in and dropped a rather large, flat package on her bed and then
hooted at her to take the parchment tied to its leg.

Uncertainly, Ginny took the parchment. The owl swooped out and she shut the window tightly. She
was unused to getting midnight owls, let alone packages. Curiosity picked at her and she decided to
open the package first. Upon closer inspection, it was wrapped in silver paper and embossed with
the name of the Hogsmeade clothier. Gently she ran her fingers under the sides, loosening the
shimmering paper.

Pushing apart the flaps, she uncovered a black leather winter robe. Stifling her gasp, she
lifted the heavy, magnificent garment and saw that it was lined in cinnamon fox fur. Her stomach
churned and she raced to read the accompanying note.

The fine parchment unrolled perfectly as she read the emerald-green script.

*Come to the lake.*

Ginny shook. Her hands trembled and her entire body felt like it might drive itself into the
floor. There was no mistaking the author of the note and the giver of the gift. The glorious robe
matched his exactly save for the soft fur that nearly matched her hair.

She’d tried it on, and it hung on her small frame perfectly, draped over her like a protector.
The warming charm he’d placed on it made her never want to take it off. She’d have bet ten Galleons
that it was water-repellent as well. *Oh, gods, it even smells like him.*



9. The Upper Hand
-----------------

AN: I’m still working on it! There are still more delicious scenes to come!

Ginny was suddenly flooded with fury. *How dare he!* He’d left her alone after reaching
climax, never spoke to her save for the one time they ran into one another, and now he expected her
to fall apart over a silly robe and come to the lake all soft and sweet? She picked up the
parchment again. It seemed to throb in her fingers to the beat of her racing pulse. She forced
herself not to scream in frustration.

If he thought it was going to be easy, he had another think coming.

Draco looked up from where he’d been sitting and staring rather morosely into the fire. The
sound of crunching snow made his heart pound. He stood quickly.

Ginny rounded the swell, knowing now it was he who has been secreted in the space for these many
nights. Malfoy stood tall and proud in black robes. He was silhouetted against the vibrant fire
that seemed to put color into his pale cheeks. He looked like an ice god who was waiting
impatiently to be thawed. She met his gaze and just as quickly looked down towards the earth. She
immediately realized that he’d transfigured his robe into a fur-covered mattress of sorts. The
black rabbit’s fur looked lush and soft, belying its stark color.

When he saw her stand before him in the heavy robe he’d bought her he simultaneously
complimented his own eye for her fit and thought how much like a fiery faerie she looked.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered, gesturing her closer to him.

She walked forward, a sultry smile gracing her lips. He advanced, eager to meet her in the
middle. Just as he raised his hands to pull her to him she punched him as hard as she could in the
stomach. Doubled over, he yelled an obscenity and backed away.

“What in the hell was that for?” he spat, rubbing his stomach. Now it was her turn to stalk
him.

“That’s only one punch of many I’d like to give you. You cornered me in the halls. You tormented
me in class. You invaded my room. And why? All for your own pleasure.”

Draco perked up. “But Ginny, you’ll remember quite clearly that it was *you* who received
any pleasure, not me.” He laughed and scuttled away as she came back for another punch, hands
fisted.

He only half-listened to her list of grievances. For the first time in his life, someone was
calling him on his actions. No one had ever done that. And she was genuinely angry, angry enough to
punch him. It made him want to be with her all the more; he was starving for human attention. To be
with someone who didn’t care that he was a Malfoy, didn’t care that he was rich; in fact, very
probably despised all that he stood for was a heady thought. Finally, someone was looking at
*him.* He was filled with longing for her, wanting to feel her, lie skin to skin with her to
maybe absorb just a bit of her happiness, her uncomplicated life.

She was dressing him down for buying her the robe. Suddenly he was galvanized into action.

“You’re going to keep it, aren’t you?” Draco demanded. For a second, she shut her mouth. He
continued.

“Because I’ve never bought anyone a gift except my mother.”

*Oh, bloody hell.* “You haven’t?” Ginny inquired curiously. The thought saddened her.

“No, I haven’t. So however much you hate me, just keep it, okay?” Draco said, turning on his
heel away from her.

Ginny could not stop the deluge of thoughts in her head. She had only one question to ask him
now. She desperately sought the answer. Taking a long look at his lean, muscular body, she mustered
the courage to speak.

“Draco,” she said. He turned towards her, eyebrow shot.

“Why did you leave me?”

It was the one question he didn’t want her to ask, for he could barely answer it himself. As a
Malfoy, emotions were scarce. But his disbelief and sudden anxiety to her carelessly spoken
admission clouded his mind and he’d had to escape. At first, he thought she was lying. After all,
what Weasley would ever think of a Malfoy in that way? If someone had ever mentioned it to him he
would have thought them daft. After deciding she hadn’t lied, the force of a notion struck him.

He feared (and he had never feared anything, save his father) that she had told him out of
panic. It disgusted him that he felt he’d scared her into admitting something. The thought of
forcing a woman both insulted and nauseated him.

But he could not get her taste out of his mind. He could not forget her face in the throes of
passion that he induced. He could not forget that he suddenly felt alive when he was near her.

“Look,” he said softly, closing the distance between them in a few strides. “I’m a Malfoy. Will
you just be quiet and take what little I can give you?”

Her mouth had been open to impertinently question him further. It presented a target he could
not miss. His mouth closed over hers, capturing her tongue and rubbing it with his own. For the
first time, she honestly kissed him back. He was captivated by her shyness but determination to get
something out of this crazy ride.

He reached inside the robe, feeling the double sensation of the soft fur against the backs of
his hands and the infinitely softer, warmer skin just above her hips. She wriggled closer to him
and began unbuttoning his shirt. He couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips when she began
to draw her fingernails down his back.

Ginny pulled away from his drugging kisses.

“This time you’ll be begging me to mark you,” she whispered, letting him feel the curve of her
smile against his cheek.

Although Draco’s experience was still somewhat limited, he could not think of another phrase
that was quite so sexy as that one.

She removed her hands from his back and concentrated on removing his shirt. He was still kissing
her, his hands tangled almost painfully in her hair. When she pushed it off him she murmured her
satisfaction. She ran her fingertips down the lines created by his well-defined muscles.

Pushing him away, she leaned in to scrape her teeth over his nipples. He reciprocated her
shove.

“Ginny, don’t. You want this to be over before it starts?” he groaned, shaking her shoulders
lightly. She smiled, perfect little teeth gleaming in the firelight.

“If you want me, Malfoy, you’re going to have to wait for it.” It was Draco’s turn to smirk.

“Becoming bossy now, are we?” he inquired.

“You don’t know how much,” she said. “Now shut up.”

She crashed her lips on his, feeling his body become rigid with desire. She relished the thought
of making Draco submit to her little whims. Maybe, *maybe* she might let him get the upper
hand. But not until later.

She moved away again to pay attention to his chest. She suckled lightly on his nipples and he
kept telling her to stop but his hands holding her to him didn’t indicate that he really wished her
to.

“Draco,” she said, lifting her head. “Lie down.”

For a moment, he was stunned and disappointed. His little planned evening was not going as it
should. *She was ordering him around.* Hmm. He lay down on the lush fur, moving his shirt to
the side as he did. She stood above him, still fully dressed. He mentally noted that maybe he
shouldn’t have had the robe made so long. Hard to look up her skirt.

He patted between his toned stomach and hips.

“There’s a seat waiting for you.”

Grinning sinfully, she lowered herself onto his body and sat for a moment getting the lay of the
land. She could feel his rather impressive (or at least it appeared so) erection snug against her
buttocks. She watched Draco pillow his head on his hands and smile insolently.

“I do have one request, Mistress Ginny,” he said. “Much as I do like that robe, I’d appreciate
it if we were on a little more equal footing.” His hands shot up and nimbly released the clasp. He
pulled it off her and cast it off to the side. She sat astride him with her bare legs pressing
against his sides, her skirt riding up. “And this too.” He lifted the hem of her sweater and she
allowed him to pull it off, shaking her mane of hair free. Curiously, she wasn’t embarrassed in the
least, even when Draco reached behind her and unfastened her burgundy bra.

Interesting how he’d not really thought much about her breasts when he saw her in the shower or
later. But now they tumbled free and hung tantalizingly above him. He leaned forward to take one of
her hardened buds into his mouth. She put her hand palm-down on his chest and pushed him back,
instead leaning down to him and kissing him again. He let her kiss him, and it was gentle and soft.
Tangled tongues and lips. He wrapped his arms around her bare back, pressing her breasts against
his chest.

Ginny decided that since he’d pretty thoroughly explored her nether regions that it was time to
pay him back. He groaned as she slid south down his body. She was quite sure to drag herself over
his hardness and let a triumphant look cross her features. She glanced up to see his eyes
heavy-lidded, his head lolling in his arms again. When she gripped his zipper in her teeth and
pulled them down he nearly shot out from under her.

She smiled sweetly. “Payback time, Draco.”

Before he could finish telling her that she didn’t have to do that she had his pants and black
silk shorts down to his ankles. She felt him kicking off his shoes and socks and the movement of
his legs beneath her was stimulating. She reached back and helped him slide the rest of his clothes
off.

His member jutted proud and firm before her. She lay on her stomach between his legs, admiring
him. She’d never done any of this before, but was determined to make the best of it.

He looked down the length of his body and was deeply aroused by Ginny’s frank appraisal. He
could not control the twitch that ran through him. She saw it and smiled as she opened her mouth to
lick him ever so softly. A shudder ran though him and his hands came down to his sides. She began
the lightest ministrations and while it felt wonderful she was merely teasing him with the hot
promise of her mouth.

She watched Draco’s face subtly contort as she let her tongue run the length of him and her
hands fondled the twin globes beneath. His ragged breath told her she was doing a fine job. She
could sense his growing discomfort. Lifting her head, she licked delicately around the head as she
spoke.

“Oh, Draco, I suspect this isn’t quite enough. Is there something more I can do?” she asked
innocently. His eyes popped open and she could see that it was going to take a lot for him to tell
her exactly what he wanted.

“Tell me,” she said. “Don’t make me leave you hanging.”

*Whyisshesuchatease?* His mind asked, running all the words together in his head. She had
started sucking on the head and shaft, but way too softly for Draco’s liking.

“More, like that,” he strangled out. “Ha…harder. Faster.” He moaned as she picked up a pace that
was sure to kill him. He could feel that she had nearly all of him in her mouth and throat, could
feel her nose nuzzling his hair. If this was natural talent he couldn’t imagine an experienced
Ginny.

Through his haze of desire he felt her little hands coming up his sides and grabbing his hands.
She put them palms together, fingers tightly interlaced. Her little gesture relaxed him. He was
almost afraid to show much emotion, but she brought it out in him. He locked his long legs over
hers, holding her in place.

He felt the familiar pressure at the base of his spine. His hips bucked up, independently of his
mind. He hadn’t wanted to force himself into her mouth, but the involuntary instinct overtook him.
She squeezed his hands and took one finger down to stroke the middle of his palm. The sensual
caress made him shudder. When she began devouring him like an ice cream cone he couldn’t hold back
his release. He emptied himself into her mouth, and she took down his essence with aplomb. When he
dared open his eyes it was to find her giving a sly smile and oh-so-innocently licking her
lips.



10. Properly
------------

A/N: Thank you as always to the wonderful, slightly zany Manda and my new beta Raye (Dawn Wood)
who made great new suggestions and changes. I owe so much to you both! Also, if you were wondering
why D/G aren’t cold…I’ll explain that in the next part. Thank you for your great reviews. Some of
you said I was the first person ever to thank you for a review. I can’t imagine *not* saying
thank you.

As he recovered, Ginny let him lie quietly while she reached for her wand. Speaking almost too
quietly to be heard, she cast a quick contraceptive charm on herself.

“Better not be cursing me,” Draco mumbled. He caressed the full curve of her hip, urging her
closer to him.

“No,” she said lightly. “Just a bit of housekeeping.”

Holding her lithe body close, Draco shook off the urge to sleep. “Come here, Princess,” he
whispered softly into her crimson curls. “It’s my turn now. To do this properly.”

She lounged seductively beside him, clad only in her skirt, having managed to cast off her shoes
and socks along the way. He guided her almost underneath him, smiling as he gazed over her
delicately heaving flesh. His hand stole slowly up her thigh, coming to the point on her hips where
he should have felt fabric.

“Hey,” he whispered, a smirk on his lips. “You’re not-“ he began, his hand stroking over the
naked skin.

“Didn’t want you to nick another pair of my knickers,” she laughed. Draco finished removing her
skirt and leaned back on his elbow to study her. Draco had been with a few girls, his reputation
could vouch for that, but he had never seen anything like Ginny. He’d invaded her most secret
desires and places but never took any time with them. To see the entire package in an unhurried
manner made this experience much sweeter for Draco.

With a very masculine smile, Draco moved to his side, watching her as he explored Ginny’s
sensual body. She felt his callused fingertips rub the sensitive bud of her nipple. He rubbed
slowly until she was twisting under his touch. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, covering one
then the other with his hot mouth and releasing them to softly blow cool air over the tips. He
moulded her breasts with his free hand, cupping and shaping and kneading them. Lazily he kissed
her, indulging in sweet, slow tongue play.

Wrapping his arms around Ginny, Draco rolled over onto her, bringing his knees up to support his
weight. He ran his hands up and down her sides, found the little spots of skin above her hipbones
that seemed to be softer than the rest. He discovered her ticklish sides and smiled as she tried to
ineffectually swat his hands away. He spent many minutes exploring her, rewarded with every sigh
and moan.

Ginny’s breath caught in her throat when she felt one of his hot pale hands disappear past the
gentle curve of her stomach, tangling in her fiery curls. She wasn’t afraid, she knew that he was
going to show her with everything he had how sorry he was for everything he had done to her.

The palm of his hand skimmed softly over her crevice, teasing the already passion-slick lips.
After convincing himself that she was going to let him have his way he heaved a sigh of relief. He
leaned down to kiss her and she threaded her slender fingers through his platinum hair. When he
released her she nodded almost imperceptibly at him, willing him on with a tiny smile.

They lay tangled together for a long time, Draco seemingly unable to abandon her sweet mouth as
his fingers played silent music between her sensitive folds. He revelled as she squirmed beneath
him, blindly raising her hips to him, trying to get what she wanted. Quiet moans of disappointment
left her throat as he teased her, silently pleading with him for more.

Draco shifted position, lying between her legs, his hands resting on her hips, holding her open
to his heated gaze. A well-focused hot breath on her weeping flesh caused Ginny to cry out his
name. Gently he settled and took his first taste of that which he had been unable to replicate in
his mind.

Ginny couldn’t get close enough to him. He placed his hands under her thighs and pulled her
tightly to him. Too abandoned to care, she squeezed Draco’s sides with her feet.

He kept up his merciless assault on her most sensitive of places. She speared her fingers
through his hair and tugged at him, yelping, moving, desperate to get closer. Ginny felt flashes
across her abdomen when Draco slid two fingers inside her, curving against the slick flesh until he
found what he was seeking. Ginny drew her knees up, wanting to centre her whole body around the
tightness that was building and threatening to break her body in half.

Draco began to back off, holding her on the brink of climax. Digging her nails into his
shoulders, Ginny growled his name. He knew she was a virgin, that much he could tell from having
his fingers inside her. He quickly decided on a course of action. He was about to let her slide
into the abyss when she tugged his ears to make sure she had his attention. “Draco Malfoy,” she
hissed, her voice unnatural, “if you don’t let me come I’m going to rip your ears off.”

Out of pure spite, he held her close one more time before flicking her hard with his tongue. She
screamed his name to the heavens, “Draco…” He reared back, resting on his knees, pulling her
steaming centre to him, thrusting hilt-deep into her. Ginny cried out again, but the pleasure mixed
with pain took the edge off. He was almost sorry to leave her tight sheath, feeling her muscles
trying to keep him seated within.

He slid one hand out from under her leg to grab his nearby wand, tapping it to himself and then
to her with a quick *scourgify**.* Satisfied, he leaned down for an even quicker taste of
the rain of her desire. She cried out and released again, unexpectedly. He hoped that breaking her
maidenhead in the throes of climax would spare her any pain when they coupled for real.

She felt him kiss away the few tears that had leaked out of her eyes. Whether they were from
pain or intense pleasure she could not say.



11. The First Time
------------------

**AN:** Sorry this is taking so long, but I now have two betas who must take a good bit of
time out of their schedules to read this. Plus, I won’t lie; being in school has been brutal these
past few days. I’ve got to be in a very specific mood to write, so be glad that I want to finish
this story! I still haven’t explained the little spot Draco and Ginny are in, but have faith. Sorry
for the short chapters. I think you’ll like the end when I get there. Thanks for all your
constructive reviews!

When she opened her eyes she saw him hovering over her, concern flitting across his eyes. For
what seemed like an interminable second to him, she smiled coquettishly and stroked his burning
cheek with her fingers. The sigh of relief that flooded out of Draco’s body tickled Ginny’s nose
and lips. Leaning forward, she captured his lips with hers, reminding him that she wasn’t done.

Raw male power spurted through his veins, making him impossibly harder. A guttural groan passed
his lips and his ferocity was thinly veiled. He raised himself on all fours and stalked her body.
The narrow gaze she directed on him sent hot streamers of desire through his body. Positioning
himself before her, he dragged her hips into the cradle of his own, his member mere centimetres
inside her. He felt her tight constraints and barely ground out her name in a rough question.

Bucking hips took him deep before he could take control. Feeling her welcoming heat and seeing
her sexy shudder nearly undid him. He watched her dip her pelvis a few more agonizing times,
watched her measure his length inside her. Finally regaining his grip on the situation, he stilled
her active hips with lean fingers. Smiling hungrily, he began to set their rhythm, altering his
thrusts at her sighed instructions.

As he looked down on her, face flushed, hair haloed around her head, breasts hard-tipped, he
could not bear to be even two breaths away from her. Coaxing her legs around his waist, he leant
down and covered her entire body with his. He snaked his arms underneath her shoulders and folded
his hands atop her head, holding her as closely as possible.

Within the small space left for air, Draco began to kiss her voraciously, almost distracting her
from his thrusts until he began to punctuate the movements of his tongue with those of his strong
body. Ginny gasped softly, moistly, into his mouth. She felt the pressure building again in the
centre of her. She brought her legs up and crossed over his back, pulling him down as far as
possible.

Knowing he was feeling the first waves of her impending climax, he wove one hand between them.
Softly (for he knew the lightest pressure would undo her the most thoroughly) he began to stroke
her silken knot of flesh. He heard her suppressed keening cries as she frantically thrust towards
his fingers and member, her body seeking an increased pressure that she could not voice. He kept up
his light touches despite his heavily thrusting hips.

With a final stroke, deep and sure, she imploded around him. Tight muscles held him snug within
her and a second wave of pleasure broke as she released from the excruciatingly slow pace he’d kept
up on her nub of flesh. His concentration shattered and he allowed her fathomless constrictions
push him over the edge. He answered her cries with a grunt of his own, and he stilled so that they
might both feel the last vestiges of pleasure slowly ebbing away.



12. How, indeed.
----------------

**AN**: Thanks for all your reading and reviewing. I’m thinking about some other ships/fics,
including a continuation of this fic that includes Lucius, a Ron/Hr fic, a Draco/Hr and a Hr/SS
fic. I can’t post them here, obviously, so if I do they might be on AdultFanFiction.net or possibly
RestrictedSection.org, but they rejected this fic at first so I’ll have to work hard for them to
take this or any other idea I have. I’ve made mistakes but I will correct them in future
iterations. I might post links to new fics as add-on chapters to this one. Feel free to e-mail me
your thoughts and suggestions at sunshinefanfics@hotmail.com. If you can’t support these
fics I mentioned above, please don’t write me all angry. I respect that about you, so you should
respect my choices as well.

Draco closed his eyes as he half-collapsed upon Ginny, feeling her slender arms arranging him
over her like a living blanket. When he dared look upon her, her delicate eyelids were closed, a
small, smug smile on her lips. Kissing her eyes, he murmured into her ear.

“I think I’ve seen that smirk somewhere before.” Her soft eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as
she eyed him craftily.

“Fantastic,” she breathed into his mouth, kissing him sweetly.

For maybe another quarter hour, they lay joined together, neither wanting to give up the warmth
of the other. Finally they met eyes and by unspoken agreement it was time to go. Both groaned
audibly when Draco was forced to retreat from her softness. He rolled off her and she began to
retrieve her clothes, both laughing quietly when they aimed a *scourgify* at each other.
Silently, they dressed and Draco nudged her off the mat while he transfigured it back into his
cloak. With a swift flick of his wand Draco’s colourful fire went out. Ginny’s lit wand was their
only guidance to the castle.

For all their recent intimacy, Ginny was delighted when Draco reached out and caught her hand on
the way back through the crunching snow. Without his overpowering presence suffusing her senses,
she was able to wrap her mind around the small strange spot they had just occupied.

“Draco, what was that spot back there?” she asked. He was silent for a moment, then sighed.

“Dumbledore sort of bequeathed it to me. Said he thought that this year I might need to get away
from everyone. It’s bewitched, you know, no snow, no rain, constant temperature; right there in
that little space. Dumbledore said the last person he gave it to was Snape.”

They reached the stone steps of the castle far too quickly. Draco felt odd sensations skittering
through his body. The touch of Ginny’s warm hand, the *lightness* he was experiencing, was
almost frightening. It was downright weird not to have any of the hurtful retorts or disdainful
sneers ready when they needed to part.

They mounted the steps and Draco muttered the password to enter again. Just inside, Draco paused
and held onto Ginny’s hand as she began the inevitable break. She looked at him quizzically and he
stammered for words that were normally nimbly spoken.

“I—“he began, cut off by her swift reply.

“I know, Malfoy. You don’t have to tell me. This never happened. Never allude to it, never think
that there’s even a chance,” she said bitterly, her eyes filled with indignation and inexplicable
sadness. Momentarily stunned, he dropped her hand. She took this as her cue to exit, and she began
to flee towards Gryffindor Tower.

A few long strides and he caught the back of her cloak, spinning her to face him, slamming her
against his chest. Cutting off her escape, he locked his hands behind her.

“Gods but you’re a vindictive wench.” He eyed the murderous look that crossed her features and
plundered her mouth.

She responded like an animal, knowing full well it was the last time she’d ever kiss him. He
pulled away and glared at her. She glared right back, hating him for drawing out this
encounter.

“I was going to ask you to stay the night with me, Ginny,” he said, “before you verbally kicked
me in the stones.” Uncertainty arced though her. Uncertain if he was telling the truth, then
realizing he’d never ask for such a thing unless he meant it, uncertain if they’d get caught. She
heard his impatient sigh and looked into his grey eyes, searching them for any sign of farce. She
saw nothing but earnest sincerity that never made it to his storm cloud face.

“Okay,” she said, surprising both of them. She quashed a giggle when she saw his face brighten
before he could rein in his feelings.

“Good,” he grumbled. Releasing her, he held out his hand again and he escorted her quickly to
the Slytherin dungeons and the nearby dormitories. Draco mentally gave a sign of relief that
there’d been no indication that Filch or Mrs. Norris was making rounds in that section of the
school.

Draco was glad the paintings were mostly asleep, and he barely whispered his password to his
private quarters. Reaching behind her, his hand found the swell of Ginny’s behind through her cloak
as he guided her into his room. She let out a breathy giggle and allowed him the liberty. One thing
he was beginning to like about her was that she had no false modesty. He suspected that he had only
viewed one side of her tonight and that she had many more he would be pleased to explore.

He hustled her inside and motioned for her to drop her cloak over the back of his desk chair. He
cast off his as well and busied himself with relighting the fire that the house elves had abandoned
when they saw he was absent.

Ginny amused herself by looking around his room. It was small (by his standards, she was sure)
but richly furnished compliments of Lucius Malfoy. Silver and hunter green twined together in
sinuous strands through his silk sheets and comforter. She tried to imagine, though Draco’s eyes,
what sort of picture all her crimson hair would make against these sheets. The thought of it made
her knees weak. She trailed her fingers along the smooth dark wood of the bedstead and traced
patterns in the mangled blankets.

He would have *given* her all his sumptuous furnishings if only she’d allow him to join her
in bed. He felt his heart expand and found that he had no desire to push it away. Ginny had
accepted him, and he felt a sense of belonging, with her. Fingers tightened into fists at his sides
as he observed her aimless wanderings, wanting to hold her and kiss her senseless.

“Ginny…” he said, unsure of what to say but compelled to speak.

For the first time, Ginny thought that she could feel his roiling emotions palpably in the palms
of her small hands. Frozen in the moment, she searched his half-earnest, half-confused countenance.
How twisting could it be, she thought, for a Malfoy to want his enemy? How shameful did he feel
when he realized that it was she who could slake his thirst for companionship? How dismayed when he
knew that he had to have her and couldn’t take the time to heed the consequences? How, indeed.

She held out her hand and he crossed the space between them. Cupped hands held her rooted to the
spot; whispered wishes became clothing on the floor. Lifting her gently, he laid her on his bed and
admired her luminous skin and fire hair against the backdrop of his bedclothes. He positioned
himself beside her and could not stop kissing her, letting her energy seep into his once-soulless
body.

Sometime later a shapely white leg was lifted high into the air and a warm kissed pressed to the
back of the knee. A blond head arched back in passion. A supple torso topped by cinnamon undulated
softly above whispered endearments. A long leg covered in crisp hairs swung gently over a rounded
hip. A small hand covered the two large ones that kept her blissfully captive against his warm
chest. Two sated lovers slept.

Blindingly bright winter sunshine streamed over two figures so entwined it was hard to tell
where one ended and the other began. Draco rested his chin on the mop of red hair that tickled his
nose with a sweet scent. Sometime during the night, she’d turned to him and he’d held her close.
Now he didn’t want to wake her, though he knew with alarming certainty that it had to be after nine
in the morning, judging by the way the sunlight dappled his room. He allowed a sigh to escape.

She woke slowly, stretching against him like a cat, completely aware of her surroundings and
trying not to hurry before she had to. Sleepily, she kissed his chest. He ducked his head to kiss
her forehead.

“What time is it?” she asked softly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’d guess between quarter and half past nine,” he murmured, not really wanting to tell her.

“Happy Christmas, Ginny.” She smiled against his chest.

“Happy Christmas, Draco.”

Extricating herself from his grasp, she resigned herself to leaving; knowing that by now the
Gryffindor Tower residents would begin to miss her presence. She began to dress and made a point of
putting on her new cloak.

Draco watched her lazily, admiring both her body and her brazen decision to put on the cloak
that he’d given her, effectively marking her as his. Choosing for the moment to forget the scandal
that would surely ensue, he rose from the warm nest of sheets and kissed the back of her neck. He
turned her around to face him and delighted in her blush when she saw that he was still nude.

“Come back, won’t you?” he said, half-demanding, half-pleading. She took her time answering,
searching his eyes. Draco felt like he was being opened and read like a book she was regarding him
so intensely.

“Yes,” she finally said, turning on her heel. He watched the swing of her hips as she exited his
chambers. He sighed and got back into bed, trying not to think about all the certain fates that
would befall him.

Ginny entered the common room and all eyes turned toward her. Ron had a glint of fury in his. He
advanced on her.

“Where were you? We were worried sick!” he blurted, just glad to know that his sister was safe.
Ginny frantically scrabbled in her mind for a suitable explanation.

“I, erm, I woke early and decided to go for a walk around the lake, you know, just admiring the
snow,” Ginny said, forcing a sunny smile. Ron didn’t look appeased.

“Where’d you get that cloak, Ginny?” Ron asked, suspicious to the core. She tried hard to look
clueless.

“I have no idea, Ron, when I woke this was at the foot of my bed, no note or anything. I wish I
knew who sent it, I’d like to thank him or her,” she said, hoping that Ron would leave her alone.
He stepped forward, and she saw dim recognition in his eyes. He fingered the posh leather of the
cloak wonderingly.

“Bloody hell, Ginny, this looks quite similar to that blasted Malfoy’s winter cloak.” Ginny
hoped she looked convincingly bewildered.

“Who?”