A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

~Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off~



**Then think of what you did

And how I hope to God it was worth it

When the lights are dim and your heart is racing

As your fingers touch your skin**



**



Ginny sat as still as possible in the small armchair. Her instincts foolishly told her that somehow this would keep her safe. The logical part of her brain, however, knew how stupid this was, and she started to tremble under the steamy and lecherous gaze of the elder Malfoy.



“You can’t possibly be suggestion what I think you are…”



“Oh I can, Miss Weasely… You’re of good pureblood stock, as misaligned as your alliances are. You can provide me with a perfectly good heir, and then I believe your payment would be complete.”



“You want me to… give you my baby? Are you forgetting that I’m not actually pregnant, or did you lie about that too?”



“Oh no, my dear. In order for this child to be an acceptable Malfoy heir, he will have to be of certifiable Malfoy seed. You are not with child; I did not lie about that. This potion’s main function was to make you appear as such, to give your story some credibility. I did, however, manage to gloss over its secondary purpose. You are never more fertile than you are in the days after taking this potion. And as such, I suggest we get down to business, as it were. You will remit payment tonight.”



“Are you- you mean you want me to sleep with you? Now?”



“Yes, Miss Weasley. And I suggest you be an active participant. I assure you I can make the experience… pleasing, if you let me. However, the choice is yours. Fight me all you like, l’ll only enjoy it more.”



This entire time, the trembling of her muscles was the only movement Ginny could manage. She sat petrified with horror at the corner she’d managed to back herself into. The cogs of her brain worked at lightning speed to try and decipher a way out of her predicament. She had made a bargain, true. She’d never agreed to the particulars, just the end results… That was a big mistake on her part. Was there any way she could save herself this experience? Was there anything Lucius had said or done that might have left her a cracked window, anything?



There was nothing. She was stuck.



In a flurry of action, she leapt from her chair and threw herself at the door of the office. The elder Malfoy stood swiftly and pointed his wand at the wood, and the portal closed. She turned and glanced at the hearth behind the giant desk, but

she’d have no hope of reaching it; even if she’d managed in enough time to throw down some floo powder, he was much too close and would surely capture her.



She leaned against the wood, defeated. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, hot and angry.



“And if I refuse? Short of raping me…” she looked dubiously up at her captor. She somehow didn’t doubt he’d use force, as promised, “What would happen?”



“Let’s just say I’m tired of waiting for your end of the bargain to be held up, shall we?”



Ginny did not like the way his eyes set hard and stony. He started his path from behind the desk and advanced on her. She tried to melt into the door, but it was no use. She was trapped, literally and figuratively. She had to think fast. Fight back, lose, be taken by force and probably injured? Or give in and accept it, and maybe try to enjoy it? The latter in theory seemed more attractive, but her fighting spirit would not let herself admit defeat so easily.



She grabbed her wand and threw a stinging jinx at her aggressor, but he deflected it with an easy flick of his own wand. She dashed to the other side of the room and tried an Expeliarmus, but he dove after her and it missed. She dropped to the floor and rolled towards the fire place, and went for her specialty, throwing a Bat Bogey Hex at the man. Even this was deflected easily, and he threw himself down to the floor to cover the small witch’s body with his own. She could not move under his crushing weight, and he wrenched her wand from her fingers. He tossed it behind him and leaned down to hiss angrily in her ear:



“Think of what you’ve gotten out of our agreement. The love of your life, security, a family… You once said it meant the world to you, that you’d do anything for him. Is it not fair, then, to ask you to do just that? My future is bleak, empty, Miss Weasely. I have nothing. When I die, the Malfoy line will be no more. Imagine how you would feel if your Mister Potter was ripped away from you one day. This is how I feel. I. Cannot. Let. That. Happen.”



As he ended his cajoling speech, he started to tear at her robes. It seemed he was not going to give her anymore chance to go into this willingly. She panicked, but for a slightly different reason than her earlier terror. His words hit home with her. The idea of everything she had worked so hard to achieve just disappearing one day was horrifying. It sent a pang of despair so strong to fill her lungs that she almost choked on it, and she put her hands out to stop the searching rough hands picking through her clothes.



“Stop!”



It sounded less a panicked plea and more an earnest request, and so surprisingly he actually obeyed.



“If… If I were to conceive your heir… What… That is, how would you gain custody of him?”



Lucius stared down at her in shock. Was she actually acquiescing?



“We would fake the infant’s death, and then I would hide him away here in the manor. Should the question of his origins ever arise, his legitimacy would be proven though blood magic.”



Half of Ginny was appalled at the thoroughness to which the elder Malfoy had thought this plan out. The other half was slowly becoming numb as she realized that she was going to do this. She had to, for Harry. If she wanted him, it was only fair that she pay Mister Malfoy back for the gift he had given her. She put a hand to his chest, pushing him away from her so that she could sit up. He followed through with her request, and she rose unsteadily to her feet. Her muscles trembled and she sniffled back tears as she steeled her resolve against what she was about to do as she slowly undid the fastenings of her robes.



Lucius could hardly believe that the girl was giving in. It had taken a scuffle, and sure she still seemed reluctant, but she was actively undressing herself. He used his wand to clear off the giant desk; he wasn’t going to bother with wasting time finding a bedroom and risking her making a break for it. The girl jumped when she heard the clatter of things disappearing from the wooden surface, and he could see her freckled complexion paling in the firelight. To be honest, the frightened trembling was rather attractive on the slight frame, and she truly did have a delicious shape: still girlish, but rapidly filling in with womanly curves. The red hair was an eyesore, but it was ignorable knowing what he would be receiving approximately nine months from now.



“Are… are we really doing this on your desk?”



Her voice trembled, and the fear emanating from the girl made his cock twitch as it rapidly filled while watching her shed her clothing in the fire’s light.



“I told you, I’m tired of waiting.”



He grabbed her round the back of her neck, and pulled her in for a kiss, but she resisted, and turned her face away from his.



“Do we have t-… can we just do this?”



“If you aren’t wet, my girl, then this will be incredibly uncomfortable for you.”



She closed her eyes and cringed, and to be honest this motion delighted Lucius to his core. He’d long ago admitted to himself his sadistic tendencies, and he would have enjoyed this much less if she’d been enthusiastic about her coupling with him.



“It’s your choice.”



He used his purchase on her throat to push her towards the desk and tried to get her to lay on her back, but again she refused. The quaking of her muscles only increased, and she could not meet his eyes. She turned away from him, putting her hands on the cool surface of the desk. She turned her head, looking back over her shoulder towards him, but staring at the fire behind him, never looking at his face.



“Give me this much, at least,” she managed to whisper before her throat closed up around the lump that choked her. Her sniffles no longer held the tears at bay, and she could feel a drop of the hot liquid trickle down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut to stave off the flow of emotion. If she could just get through this, then she could get home and break down in Harry’s arms; chalk it up to pregnancy hormones…



Lucius ran a palm down her side, amazed at the strength of her supple pale skin. The abominable freckles that splashed over her nose and cheeks extended below her collar line, and her body was covered in the brown spots. His eyes followed down and over the curve of her naked buttox and he used his hands to guide her spine into the angle necessary for him to find his entrance. He ran a hand down her thigh and pulled it up roughly, resting her knee on the table and opening her up further to his inspection.



She shook as this new position opened her and made her feel vulnerable in a way her nakedness had not. If he were to kneel down he could look right into her, and she wished he would hurry up and just fuck her, but he took his time running his hands over her flesh; almost as if he enjoyed her turmoil. The reason for her shaking soon morphed from terror to anger. It wasn’t fair that he was making her do this, and then taking his time with it. He hadn’t even taken off any of his clothes yet, and he was still pawing at her as if he owned her.



“Would you just do it already?”



He chuckled at the anger in her voice. If she wanted him to get to work, then he would be happy to oblige. He shoved two fingers inside her, gauging her size and wetness, and relished in her scream of surprise and pain. He didn’t care about hurting her, and the sounds sent jolts of pleasure to his core. He was surprised to feel how tight she was, certain that even if the Potter boy hadn’t gotten to her yet, then perhaps some of the other boys at Hogwarts had managed. She certainly was attractive. But it had been a while since he’d been inside a young woman, just barely out of adolescence. He had forgotten how resilient a woman’s body could be in the beginning, before you abuse it and use it for years and years.



He stretched apart his fingers, knowing that as she now was he would never fit inside. He didn’t do it for her pleasure, and moved quickly and harshly. He could hear her biting back her sounds of displeasure and pain. He knew his nails were untrimmed and perhaps they were cutting into her sensitive flesh. He stuffed a third finger in as well, to be sure that he could shove in comfortably enough, and noticed that not a bit of his actions brought the flood of wetness to her core. He didn’t care, however, knowing he wouldn’t need her arousal for their goal.



He removed his fingers, only slightly sticky, and pulled apart his robes and unfastened hit pants. He pulled his engorged prick out of its cage of cloth and pointed it to slide into the young woman perched so obscenely on his desk.



Ginny bit her lip as she felt herself splitting as he pushed in quite unceremoniously. He didn’t fit, but he didn’t seem to care. He ground in to the hilt, rubbing against everything inside, and then pulled back out slowly. He shoved back in again violently, and she was so stretched that she could feel herself tearing as he moved. He encased her tiny body in his, arms wrapping around her and holding her down. He didn’t help to stretch her open as he moved in and out and it made it hurt worse. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t give the old man and his disgusting cock the satisfaction. She knew he could read her discomfort, though, in the way she trembled and whimpered and sniffled against the tears. That only made it harder to hold the tears in.



The more he moved, the wetter she became in response to his intrusion, and finally his way was made slippery and slick and oh so delicious. He moved fluidly and her every tiny movement against him made every nerve sing. He was in no danger of finishing too quickly and he allowed himself to enjoy the feelings another body provided him. As far in as he could go, then out to the head, then back in as far as her body would allow. He knew it would hurt her, and he pushed harder. It felt glorious and he wouldn’t stop until he released the seed that would plant his heir in her belly. She seemed to have come to some realization of her own as she began to quietly weep beneath him, and her hips moved a fraction to counter his rhythm. Her tears dripped down her face and splashed on the backs of his hands.



She couldn’t hold her tears in any longer. It still hurt, his girth was simply too much, but it was beginning to feel good in a very small part deep inside. With every thrust in he smashed into her cervix, and while she knew she would never achieve orgasm this way it still FELT good, and so she couldn’t help her body start to respond to the movements behind her. She could feel her nipples form into stiff peaks in the cold air of the room, and her breasts bounced heavily with every jolt his thrusts caused.



Would he ever be done and let her free from this humiliation?



**



Draco made his way up the walkway to the front door of the giant manor-house. He was surprised his father had not come out to kill him yet, but he supposed it was possible that he wasn’t home.



Or so he assumed until he actually made it through the door into the entrance hall. The door had recognized his blood magic and opened for him, but that same blood magic told Draco that his father was still somewhere inside.



He headed down the hallways that lead to the office he knew his father spent most of his time in, since the death of his wife. He’d holed himself up in there and very rarely came out anymore, now that he was ‘retired’ from ministry work. He was confused that he was still alive, sure that his father would notice the moment he’d set foot on the grounds.



Perhaps the old man had given up the idea of killing him, or even of forcing him into a marriage he didn’t want. Draco wasn’t sure if he should be grateful for this idea, after what he’d read in those papers about Harry and that stupid ginger bint.



A noise on the inside of the man’s office caught Draco’s attention as being very out of place. It wasn’t so strange to hear his father arguing with visitors in his office, but it was strange for said visitors to be female, and quite so young. It was then that Draco recognized the voice of Ginny Weasely herself.



What was SHE doing here?



Draco leaned against the door, straining his ears to listen to the words being exchanged behind the wooden partition. They sounded angry. And frightened. He closed his eyes, somehow thinking it might help him hear. Perhaps the effect was purely psychosomatic, but he was able to make out the sounds of fighting, spells being thrown, and what sounded like bodies hitting the ground. Draco would have burst through the door himself, if only for the sake of understanding what was going on in that room, but he heard the angry and sinister voice of his father saying curious things about Ginny and his Harry.



What Draco took away from his eavesdropping was that his father had somehow helped Ginny to take Harry for herself, and that for payment she was going to restore the Malfoy line for him.



It was little to go on, and no detail, but it was enough to restore Draco’s vigor to know that Harry had not been keeping a secret life from him. And it helped that Draco now had two very live targets to channel his anger at. He chose not to interrupt the couple in the office, for no other reason than he really did not want to see his father in such a disgustingly intimate act, and elected to use his time to devise a plan.





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**So, I guess we\'re back to us

So, cameraman swing the focus

In case I lost my train of thought

Where was it that we last left off?

Let\'s pick up, pick up**