Who?

She was pillowed in the rich softness of her comforter







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 dowracoraco didn’t move fast enough. She came in contacth
th
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. “Ads“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 heoundound 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 wasummiumming. 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 defiantdespdespite the emotions tumbling through her body. Draco was
enraged.

 

“Nullify adsector!” Draco strangled out. Obediently they droppnd
nd
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, pringring
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 i him 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 dtangtangled
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
smethe 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.