A Discerning Palate

Ginny was the most stubborn, obstinate woman in all of England.

It had been a week.

Damn enchanted flowers should be bloody well dead by now.

Never had Draco had to ask more than once for anything. Hell, usually all he had to do was imply that he preferred things a certain way. Except for Pansy, of course, but they were more platonic now than anything else. Which suited him fine. Women, to Draco Malfoy, were gourmet meals. Delicious, each best when consumed in a manner appropriate to their ingredients, but when served repetitively, rather boring. While filet mignon was the very best, who wanted to eat it every night?

But he had yet to truly sample Ginny Weasley’s charms. She was actually going to make him work for it. That simple fact irritated him to no end, but still he found it highly entertaining. He wondered, what exactly, it would take. The girl obviously wanted him, but would argue to the very death over the smallest things. Like the roses.

Bloody damn roses.

He could buy her the florist if he so desired.

So why was she being so stubborn?

To irritate him, probably.

It was working.

He saw Pansy trying to slip by him, unnoticed to her room. Not very goddamn likely.

“Pansy.”

She had a flustered look about her. There was something different in the way that she looked at him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he pushed the thought to the side. This was his chance to grill her about Ginny.

“Oh hey.”

“Haven’t seen you much this week.”

“Ah. Well. You know…” she shrugged her shoulders.

“No, I don’t. Tell me about it.”

“Gin and I have been hanging out a lot. I swear, that girl should have been in Slytherin.” Pansy laughed.

“There’s going to be some Slytherin in her.” Draco muttered as Pansy looked toward the stairs to make her escape.

“What?” Pansy snapped.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t be an ass. After you get tired of her, I mean. Let her know what she’s in for.”

Draco couldn’t believe he was getting ‘this’, whatever it was, from Pansy Parkinson, Whore of Babylon.

“Are you serious?”

“As a favor, okay?”

“She’s really rubbing off on you, this little Gryff. Next thing you know, she’s going to have you decked out in red and gold.”

“Fuck off, Draco.” Pansy sneered, but then softened her expression to look at him with feminine devilry. “Give me your word as a wizard, or I won’t tell you who sent the roses.”

“I swear and whatnot.” He schooled his face to one of absolute boredom and waived his hand for her to continue.

“Thanks.” She beamed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.” Her step was light as she rushed down the stairs.

He was momentarily pissed, but had to admire the girl. She did get what she wanted.

He had to top those chintzy flowers without going over the top.

The answer was simple.

Hogsmeade.


Ginny and Pansy were sitting on the floor against Ginny’s bed whispering conspiratorially when there was a tapping at Ginny’s window.

“I bet it’s his owl.” Pansy winked at her. “He’s not the only one with the advantage of knowing someone since they were in nappies.”

Ginny opened the window and Draco’s eagle owl made a grand show of flying about the room before coming to land on her desk. Even his owl, his bloody owl, had a superior expression on its face. She would know his owl anywhere. Uppity creature.

It dropped the scroll in her hand and wandered over to Pansy for attention, who then cooed the appropriate praise.

Ginny couldn’t help but feel giddy as she unwound the paper to find a rich, bold, flowing script inviting her to Hogsmeade on Friday.

“Well?” Pansy queried.

“Tomorrow. Hogsmeade. Should I go?”

“Do you want to?”

“It’s only a day notice, I should make him wait.” Ginny smiled.

“He’s already nutters about those roses.”

“Good. I still don’t know who sent them, though.” Ginny looked at Pansy questioningly.

“Okay. I give up. It was me. I knew it would fuck with him.”

“Gods, Pansy. Those had to be galleons,”

“No cost is too high to dig at darling Malfoy. It is my favorite pastime, you know.”

“I thought it was sex?” Ginny said in mock seriousness.

“They are head to head most of the time.”

The girls burst out laughing and the owl began to strut anxiously, wanting to get back to its master.

Ginny scribbled a reply and couldn’t help the anticipation that raced up her spine. She had a feeling that she was going to understand what it meant to belong him.


Draco waited for her, leaning casually against the wall in the courtyard. He was dressed in his usual black, but was sans robes. The shirt he wore clung like a second skin to his Adonis-like musculature, that alone was enough to leave any girl speechless, but his slacks were tailored in such a way to reveal that he was, in fact, very much a man. All of this was in sharp contrast to the platinum of his hair and his ethereal countenance. But the starkness of the black didn’t make him look sallow as it would a lesser being, it was reflected back in the depths of his grey eyes. It made him look altogether dangerous.

Ginny couldn’t help but lick her lips.

He looked up when he heard her steps, and he appraised her wolfishly.

On Pansy’s advice, she’d worn a green, v-necked sweater, borrowed from Pansy. Ginny had been surprised when it fit, given Pansy’s gifted proportions. But then again, the other girl was several inches shorter than she was. It all just looked bigger because it was crammed into a smaller package. But rather than anything else in her closet, Ginny had decided on wearing the skirt to her school uniform. There had been a slight modification. She’d taken up the hem approximately two inches, revealing the length of her legs. Her hair fell around her face in soft curls and her lips sparkled with shiny pink lip gloss.

Draco bowed over her hand in proper form, his eyes never leaving hers as his brushed his lips in a feather light caress over the skin.

“You look lovely, Ginevra.”

She couldn’t help herself, she blushed.

Great job there. One act of practiced gallantry and she practically fell on the ground, screaming, “take me”. Pathetic.

But he’d used her name. Not Ginny. Not Gin. Ginevra. And the syllables had fallen from his lips like sin.

“Thank you.”

He offered her is arm then, in the polite gesture of old money and society.

She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and they began the short walk to Hogsmeade.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I’ve never been to Hogsmeade on a date. What is there to do?”

He stopped to look at her as if she were a new sort of bug that he hadn’t seen before. “Are you serious?”

“Ron would never let me. I could go with friends, but never on a date.” They began walking again.

“Anyone who is actually afraid of your brother isn’t worth your time.”

“I do have six.” Ginny added.

“Yeah, but they aren’t all here.”

Ginny laughed.

“What’s a little bruising and bleeding, when the payoff is your company?” His voice turned serious.

Good Merlin on a stick! He was a suave bastard, she’d give him that.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Malfoy.”

They were on the edge of town when he stopped again. He traced the line of her cheek with his fingers, lingering over the fullness of her bottom lip. “I think we’re past all that other nonsense, aren’t we Ginevra?”

Just the sound of her name on his lips made her shiver.

“Draco. My name is Draco. I want to hear you say it.”

Ginny didn’t trust her voice and it came out in a hushed whisper.

“I can’t hear you, Little Red.”

“Draco.” For some reason she felt naughty saying it. For years, he had simply been Malfoy. Or Draco Fucking Malfoy. Or… well, any number of things. But simply calling him Draco, it was like a dirty little addiction.

Ginny couldn’t believe the amount of power that he could wield over a woman. It was staggering. She could sense the orchestration, each comment, the knowing looks, but it was as if she was powerless to fight it. What was worse, she didn’t want to fight it, but she didn’t want the game to be over. Not yet.

“I’ve been all alone in the woods with the Big Bad Wolf and here I am, safely on the path.”

“There’s the trip back, after I’ve plied you with gifts, compliments and butterbeers.” He winked at her.

Gods help her, he winked. Even as he admitted his plan. And all she could do was smile like a moron.

“I would like a present first, then.” Ginny said with all the finesse of a twelve-year-old girl.

“Ah, there you see? I do know what lurks in women’s hearts. What sort of present would you like?”

“Depends, what did you get me?”

A sort of half-smirk crept across his face. Could have passed for a smile. Maybe.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green box and placed it in the palm of her hand.

Ginny was surprised. “I thought you were teasing.”

“Open it.”

She smiled nervously, suddenly feeling very exposed, so she opened the box slowly.

It was a necklace and the pendent was a finely crafted, silver rose in full bloom.

She flushed with pleasure. “It’s beautiful.”

“Will you wear if for me?” His voice was low, but his eyes were bright.

Will you wear it for me? The connotation was so much more. Will you belong to me? Will you mark yourself as mine?

She nodded and handed the necklace to him.

He moved to stand behind her. “Hold up your hair.”

Ginny pulled her hair up, exposing the vulnerability of the back of her neck. She could feel his presence before he touched her, feel the solid strength of his body behind her, calling her, tempting her to fall back into him.

His fingers brushed her nape when he clasped the necklace, then it was the warmth of his breath, and finally the searing heat of his mouth.

Ginny shivered again as he pulled away.

“Are you cold?” he asked as he put his arm around her. All she could do was nod as she leaned into him.

He led her to the Three Broomsticks where they proceeded to the butterbeer part of his plan. But there was a fatal flaw to his plan.

The Three Broomsticks had just gotten WizardVision. Quidditch was on.

It was after two butterbeers that they both realized that the other was watching WizardVision and the game rather than each other.

“Let me turn my chair around.” Ginny laughed.

“Don’t bother with that, just come over her.” With one arm, Draco pulled her to sit on his lap and she slid her arm around his neck.

“Ron’s favorite team is the Cannons. I hope they get their arses handed to them.” Ginny was gleeful.

“What’s yours?”

“The Falmouth Falcons. They’re so tough.”

“Oh, the Gryffindor does play dirty. I really thought it would be the Cannons or the Harpies.” He settled her more firmly on his lap.

“The Harpies are a bunch of bitches. I don’t, as a rule, like other girls.”

“You like Pansy. And Granger.”

“They aren’t technically girls.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to Pansy next time I see her.”

“You know what I mean. Neither one of them are simpering idiots.”

He just took another drink from his mug.

Ginny realized then, that her breast was right next to his cheek. And every time that he tilted his head back for another drink, it brushed her nipple.

Her now very hard and jutting nipple.

Every brush of his skin across the sensitive area, even through the sweater sent lightening through her veins. Gods, she wanted him. She wanted his hands all over her body, she wanted his mouth…

Oh, his mouth.

The tool of the devil.

For it closed over her wanting skin through the material and the fire of lust spiraled all the way through to her fingertips.

“Draco!” she hissed.

“Don’t you like it?” He mocked her.

“People can see us.”

“They aren’t looking.”

“Don’t you have WizardVision in your room?” Ginny growled.

“Why yes, I do.”

Draco continued the abuse, refusing the hint.

She squirmed against him until she had fit her body to his.

And she was so caught up in the moment, that she didn’t hear Ron.

“….the Cannons are going to win.”

“Not this game. I’m telling you…Oh shit. Ron, let’s go back to Zonko’s. I forgot…” Harry trailed off as Ron stopped in his tracks. For a minute or so, he might have forgotten to breathe.

“Is that my bloody sister?”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

“Who’s she with?”

Harry didn’t know, didn’t want to know. Ginny was entitled to do what she wished without interference from them. At least, that was the school of thought until he got a glimpse of platinum hair. There was only one person who had hair like that. Just one.

And before he could think better of it, before he could stop himself, Harry blurted, “Well, fuck Merlin, its Malfoy!”

“It can’t be. My sister would never…” Ron stopped as he saw Malfoy nuzzling his sister’s breast. He wanted to block it all out. His sister didn’t have breasts. She wasn’t even a girl. Not really. She was just little Ginny. His little Gin-Gin. His Baby sister. Baby. Just a baby.

Ron roared his rage.

Ginny was off of Draco’s lap in a second, blocking Ron’s impending fury.

“What are you doing with him?”

Ginny couldn’t help herself and though it was contrary to her goal of settling him down, she answered with the first thing that came to mind. “What does it look like, Ronald?”

“Gods, you’re thick, Weasel.” Draco laughed.

“I’ll kill you, Malfoy.” Ron spoke softly as he glared around Ginny.

“Have a go, Mate.” Draco taunted him as he lazed back in his chair unaffected.

“Ginny, get out of the way.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. Ron, I know what I’m doing.”

“Gin-Gin, he’s a Slytherin.” He tried to use his older-wiser-calm-brother voice, but it wasn’t working. “He’s going to use you.”

“I know that.”

Both Ron and Harry’s mouths fell open. She began to walk to the door.

“I think the lady is ready to leave.” Draco said cheerfully as he dropped some money on the table for their tab. “Enjoy yourselves. I know I will.”

And if Ron and Harry hadn’t been frozen with their mouths gaping open like two hungry baby chicks, they would have cheerfully strangled him. Or beaten him to death.

Draco caught up with her on the trail back to Hogwarts.

“I’m sorry about that.” Ginny apologized.

“I wouldn’t permit my sister around someone with my reputation.”

They walked for awhile in silence until Hogwarts was in sight.

“I’ll walk you to your tower.”

“I don’t want to go to the tower.”

“Oh? And where is it you want to go?” He taunted with a smirk.

“Your room.”

“So you think you’re ready to play with the big boys?”

“I know I am.”

“Ginny, I’m not going to take you this one time and it will all be a fond memory. I’m going to use you until I’m tired of you. You will be mine until I decide to throw you away. There will be no “encounter sessions” where we talk about our feelings,” he sneered. “If you want that, you need to see Potter. You told your brother that you understand, but I don’t think that you do.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I gave my word- as a wizard, to Pansy that I would. You have to go into this with your eyes open.”

“We’re having one of those little “encounter sessions” now, Draco.”

He smirked. “Perhaps you are up to it after all.”

He led her through the labyrinthine series of corridors and passages that led to the dungeons and the Slytherin dorms. They were silent in their trek, which made Ginny thankful, she knew that she would chatter like a nervous magpie. Very unsexy. And if anything, she promised herself that she would not be a coward. This was what she wanted and she was going to reach out for it with both hands.

Finally, they came to a door that opened with his command.

He held the door open for her and she stepped inside.

Everything in the room was green or black, from the black satin sheets, to the green Abusson carpet that covered the cold, dark stone. A fire leapt to life across the room, instantly casting the chill away. But Ginny didn’t have the chance to think anything else, look at anything else. Draco commanded all of her attention when he grabbed her roughly and pulled them down together on the bed.

“Do you have more strawberries, Ginevra?” He whispered as his fingers slid under the waistband of her skirt.

He took her mouth as his very talented hands explored her accepting body.

She pulled back a bit. “Naked. I want to see you.” The words were wanton, but she couldn’t look at him as she spoke them.

“Look at me now.”

“I can’t.”

He tilted her chin up with his index finger, forcing her eyes to meet his. She blushed, but he wouldn’t let her look away. Draco shed his shirt in one swift motion, tossing it on the floor, carelessly. His action revealed miles of pale, but sculpted flesh. In all actuality, he looked like a marbled, Greek statue come to life, with his hard rippling muscles and white perfection.

His elegant hands went to his belt, his gaze locked with hers. She watched him more boldly now and her mouth went dry as the material slid low over his hips, revealing the lines that drew her gaze father down. When the slacks were abandoned to the floor as well, he was before her in all of his splendid glory, his member standing proudly for her attention.

“There is no way that’s going to fit Draco.” she blurted.

He wanted to laugh. But she looked so serious. “Trust me.”

“Okay.” Ginny leaned back again and let all of the tension slip from her body.

Draco couldn’t think about it at the moment, but he would later, that ease with which she gave herself over to his keeping. It was a simple thing, but there was no hidden agenda. She wasn’t sleeping with him because her family hoped for an alliance with his father, or the other connections she could make. For some reason, the girl did trust him. For a moment, he allowed himself to be a little awed by it. It aroused other feelings in him, possessive feelings that he didn’t care for. He pushed them down, deep where he didn’t have to consider them and it faded into the moment.

Draco wasn’t considerate. He divested her of her clothes with practiced efficiency. He did not touch her softly or reverently, but he did worship. He gloried in her softness, was languid in his caresses, his lips following his hands. And his mouth found her thighs and Ginny made to push him back.

“It will ease the pain, if I pleasure you first.”

“I want the pain.” And she did. She wanted to feel him so completely, she wanted to experience the sensation wholly, his flesh slick and hot against hers, she wanted to feel the sweat pour from his body as he thrust into her.

“If it’s too much,” he began in a whisper as his hard won and famed control began to slip at the need in her eyes.

He brought himself down on top of her, his body pressing her into the bed and her thighs wrapped around his waist. Draco moved against her slowly, letting her become accustomed to the feel of him, his hard weapon seeking her entrance.

Ginny’s breathing was erratic and she clung to him, unable to get close enough. She wasn’t exactly sure what she needed, she was terrified of what was to come, but she wanted it all the same.

“Please.” she implored.

He entered her then and when her channel held the tip of him, the shuddering contractions almost forced him to spill. He grit his teeth, maintaining control.

When he thrust the rest of the way in, she bit down on his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, but not a whimper escaped her, though it was an agony like none she’d ever felt. Draco held himself there as the knifing pain became a different sort of sensation, as her fluid ran to ease his way.

He moved slowly at first as he filled her, stretched her, claimed her. His thrusts became increasingly deeper, hitting a place deep within her that was almost too much, but she had to have more.

She wanted to scream as he pounded against her, but only a guttural animal sound could make its way past her lips. He took her mouth again, their tongues mimicking the actions of their bodies. Draco rode her hard and fast until finally, she was clutching and begging, and her sheath clenched around him, forcing him to spill inside of her just as she was screaming her release.