A Discerning Palate

Ginny wondered how she would ever look Malfoy in the face again. After what he’d done. After what they’d done. She would never be able to look at him without seeing him, his features painted with the strain of his desire, his lips damp with evidence of hers and a lock of perfect hair falling into his eyes.

Just the thought, that image made her clamp her thighs together, as if that action could block out the memory of sensation.

She knew she was making it too easy for him, but would it be so horrible to let him win? Would it be so horrible to lose her virginity to the Slytherin Sex God? It had to be better than the awkward, sticky fumblings of some untried boy. And it wasn’t as if she was in love, or likely to be. It wouldn’t be making love, there would be no “feelings”, she could save all that rot for when she did care. Right now, she was tired of being a virgin, tired of being strangled with the loving protection of her brothers. This would be something that they couldn’t change, stop, or take away from her.

Ginny smiled to herself and rolled over in bed, not ready to get up yet, even though she was dying to know what happened with Hermione and Pansy. Even though she was bound to get visions of her brother that would haunt her for the rest of her life, but what were friends for?

Suddenly, Ginny was squashed beneath the covers.

“Get up!”

“I can’t! You’re on top of me!” Ginny muttered from her cocoon of blankets that was quickly beginning to suffocate her.

“Wouldn’t the boys like that?” Came Pansy’s cheerful voice.

“Isn’t the sun too high for you to be out? Won’t you burst into flame or something?”

“Nope. Get up.”

“You’re still on top of me. How did you get in?”

The door to her room flew open. “Ginny, I need to talk…” Harry’s voice trailed off. “Oh, you have company.”

Pansy turned her head and Ginny managed to push the other girl off of her to peek out from under the covers.

“Hold on, let me get dressed.”

“You’re not dressed?” Harry sounded like a strangled mouse.

“No, I’m in bed, Sherlock. Use your powers of deduction.” Ginny snapped. She definitely wasn’t a morning person.

“Unfortunately, I am.” The girls both heard Harry draw in a ragged breath.

Ginny was still clueless, but Pansy, she caught on right away, instantly realizing the picture that they presented. Pansy had been in Ginny’s bed, still in her own pajamas, Slytherin Green silk boxers and a soft black half tee-shirt that did little to hide her ample charms and she’d had her bottom in the air. Her hair was slightly messed and Ginny had implied that she was naked. Which of course, she wasn’t, but Harry did have a penis and hence all of the blood wasn’t in the proper location to ensure proper processing of the information. She almost laughed, but why spoil the tension that Harry was obviously feeling?

“Good Morning, Harry.” Pansy purred.

“Gods, Pansy! How can you sound like a sex kitten this early? Wasn’t last night enough?”

At Ginny’s last comment, Harry had a sort of choked look about him, a bit green around the gills, so to speak.

Pansy eyed Harry, “No. Not by half.”

“I have to go.”

“A minute ago, you had to talk.

“Well, I have to go now.” Harry stepped back out through the door. But a few seconds later he stuck his head back into the room. “Pansy,” he began.

“I know,” she sighed. “We have to talk.” She looked away from him, a shy move that no one would have expected from the haughty Slytherin girl.

“After dinner?”

“Yeah.”

He closed the door.

“What was all that about? What happened last night?”

Pansy deflated and flopped back down on the bed, but this time Ginny scooted over to make room for her.

“Well, just now, we about made him have an accident in his shorts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ginny, I thought that you were a bit more filthy-minded.”

“Ohhhh!” she squealed. Then she began laughing so hard, the tears were pouring down her face and she was stuttering. “W-w-when I said…” she stopped to try and breathe, “get dressed,” she breathed again, “the look on his face…” Ginny broke into another fit.

But the look on Pansy’s face sobered her up.

“What happened?”

“You first. Oh, and I’m sure Draco changed the charms on the scrolls. What did that sneaky git do to you?”

“Plenty.”

“I knew it.”

“No, all that was on our scroll, was a kiss.”

“Isn’t that what you wrote?” Pansy looked confused.

“No. I wrote something quite a bit more daring.”

“So all you got was a kiss?”

“I got kissed, kitty-kissed.”

It was Pansy’s turn to squeal. “It was good?”

“I haven’t found the words…”

“Don’t tell him that, he will be insufferable. He was looking very smug and pleased with himself this morning already.”

“Something must have happened between you and Harry.”

Pansy sighed. “Nothing happened. That’s the problem.” She proceeded to recount the events for Ginny.

“Why did you say that about yourself?”

“I don’t know. That’s what he thinks of me, isn’t it? I heard him when you asked him to come to the game.”

“That’s because he thinks you’re hot. You make him uncomfortable. Merlin, Pansy. He’s probably wanked to thoughts of you in your tight Slytherin sweater…”

“You’re full of shite, girlie.” Pansy snorted.

“For being such a slag, you sure are daft.” Ginny’s voice was light and teasing as she hit her with a pillow.

“For being such a Gryff, you’re sure a slag.” Pansy returned.

“In all seriousness,” Ginny began, but almost couldn’t control her laughter, “Harry really likes Kiwi. In fact, I don’t even know if he likes apples at all. Some sort of childhood trauma.”

“Kiwi-Banana is all I have.” Pansy seemed to consider.

“Damn, really?”

Hermione burst through the door and plopped, unceremoniously down on the floor. “You were right Gin.”

“About what?” Ginny and Pansy both sat up to look at the wild-haired girl.

“He tried to eat me.”

“That’s good, right?” Pansy winked at her.

“No. He really tried to eat my tongue. Never again.”

Ginny couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“It’s not funny, really.” Hermione huffed.

“But he and Cho split up.” Pansy said in a sing-song voice.

“How do you know that? You’re still in your jammies. You haven’t been to the Great Hall.” Hermione’s interest was well-sparked.

“The rumors were flying fast and loose as early as last night. Something about chocolate frogs?”

“Hell.” Was all Hermione could muster.


Draco Malfoy was planning a seduction.

After last night, he knew that Little Red would be a hell-cat in bed. He simply had to have her. Not that there was any doubt that he would, but he wasn’t without class. A girl’s first time should be a fond memory.

And who knew how long he might keep her around? Hell, maybe he’d even marry her, depending on what kind of lay she proved to be. It was expected that he marry a pure-blood after graduation and his list of acceptable candidates was a short one. The only halfway decent looking girl in Slytherin was Pansy, and there were way too many meters on that stretch of road. While the Gryffs were fairly goody-goody, they were much like the Slytherins in other ways, both valued determination and strength. There were many that should have been sorted into one house that ended up in the other, due to parental expectations, as perhaps Ginny should have been. Above all, Gryffindors valued loyalty. And that was something that Draco Malfoy would require from his wife. Loyalty to him, not to his father, not to The Dark Lord, but to him alone.

There were several drawbacks to that school of thought, though. While Ginny was classic in her features, with a delicate bone structure, there was always the chance that their children could look like her brother, and that was completely unacceptable.

There were also the connections that he would make in the Ministry through her muggle-loving father, connections that he would never have been able to make otherwise.

He would begin his assault forthwith.

It was lunchtime in the Great Hall when a sleek eagle owl flew in and circled the Hall, carrying a dozen light pink roses bunched with a silver ribbon. It opened its deadly claws and the bundle fell right in front of Ginny Weasley.

Ginny looked for a card and then up at the Slytherin table. But Draco did not spare her a glance.

Who could they be from?

Ginny picked up the bundle and held it to her nose. She was struck by the oddest impression. They smelled like… strawberries.

“Who are they from, Gin?” Harry asked her.

“I don’t know. But they’re beautiful.” She flushed at the implications of the scent. Ginny looked up at the Slytherin table again and found Blaise watching her intently.

Hermione, who sat on the other side of her elbowed her in the ribs. “Quit looking over there. Someone is bound to notice.” she ground out under her breath.

Throughout the rest of lunch, she kept smelling the roses and blushing each time she did.

When Draco saw the eagle owl fly in, he thought it looked suspiciously like his own. But it wasn’t. Though, whoever it belonged to, they had to have spent quite a few Galleons on it.

Then it dropped those damn roses in front of Ginny. And he watched as her face flushed with pleasure and she seemed to be bathed in light.

It pissed him off.

He hadn’t sent them.

Draco shot a sharp look at Blaise and he held up his hands in a helpless gesture, though he continued to watch her.

Someone was playing in his territory. Whoever it was, he was going to get his arse handed to him on a silver platter.

Finally, when he couldn’t stand that simpering look on her face any longer, she got up to leave. Draco followed her out into the corridor.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an alcove.

“What the hell is that?”

“What’s what?” Ginny seemed genuinely confused.

“The roses. Who are they from?” He practically growled.

“They aren’t from you? They smell like strawberries.”

“Would I be asking you about them, if they were from me?” Draco bit out.

“I have no idea what you would do.”

“That’s right. You don’t. Get rid of them.”

Ginny paused, as if considering, though there was a fire in her eyes that Draco found to be rather exciting. “I will do as I please. Get your hands off me, Malfoy.”

“That isn’t what you said last night.”

“That was last night. This is today. Sod off.” She turned on her heel and began to walk away when he grabbed her again.

“Get rid of them Weasley. You’re playing with fire.”

“Am I? I don’t see how. I don’t belong to you.”

Draco seemed to explode in that moment, losing all rational thought as he jerked her hard against him.

“I will make you beg for it right here.” Then he slanted his mouth across hers, his hands forcing her back up against the wall.

She dropped the roses.

But Ginny turned her body so that it was Malfoy against the wall and her hands on his shoulders, pushing him into the cold stone. She was in no way as physically powerful as he was, but he allowed her the action.

She broke the kiss, breathless. “Maybe. But you want it just as bad.”

Ginny was slightly dizzy from the contact, but managed to bend down and pick up the roses. She took one from the bundle and slid the bud across Malfoy’s cheek, then barely brushed the edge of his lips before tucking it into his collar of his robes. Close enough for the tantalizing scent to tease him.

“I adore roses. If these had been from you, I would’ve had to find a proper way to thank you. Maybe they were from Blaise.” Ginny said as she turned and walked away from him.

She may have been the first woman in the history of the wizarding world to leave Draco Malfoy speechless.