Disclamer: I don't own any of the characters. All of the Hogwarts univers belongs to JK.

AN: Once again, I'm French, so don't be too harsh on me for my mistakes.

By the way, the title means "As red as Fire and Passion"... Enjoy

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Progressively, the sun faded away, illuminating the snowy grounds with warm red light.

Red like the blood flowing in her veins.

Slowly, the light died away, letting darkness spread in, as the cold night surrounded the castle in which everyone was asleep. Everyone except for a young Gryffindor with mid-long red hair. Very silently, she walked towards the dungeon. Well hidden underneath Harry's cloak, she glanced at the Marauder's map, making sure the coast was clear. When she finally reached the Head-Boy's dorm, she murmured the password and gently walked in.

Moonlight was coming from the window and a candle was lit near his bed. She put the map down and took off her cloak. As it happened, she was wearing nothing but her underwear beneath. She then took her cloak and pulled out a small black mask that covered half of her face, hiding her freckles, and a blond wig, which concealed her too recognizable red hair.

As she approached him, she saw that a book was face down across his bare chest. He had fallen asleep while reading. She studied his face. The soft light of the candle was dancing in his hair, making them appear straw blond. His eyes were closed, and a sneer was sprawled across his lips. She smiled at the thought. Even while he slept he was sneering.

She gently climbed on his bed and sat just beside him. He appeared so peaceful when he slept. As her gaze came to rest on his arm, a deep frown darkened her face. On his forearm, laid a black and very ugly mark. The mark of the Dark Lord. The one with which he enslaved his men. She had prepared herself for such an eventuality, but knowing that he, such a strong willed man had accepted servitude, and to such a mnster saddened her more then it should, more then she should allow it to. No matter how much she denied it, she cared for him.

Very gently, she pressed her lips to his. He stirred and opened his grey eyes. When she looked into them, she began drowning. A puzzled look appeared on his handsome face and his brows furrowed.

"What…who are...?"

She put a finger across his lips.

"Shh… Later"

Later… For the moment, she had something else in mind. Something very specific. She had been thinking about it for some time. And tonight, she would have what she wanted. This night was hers. She was in charge tonight and she wanted him to understand it.

She pressed her lips to his, harder this time. His firm lips softened and he kissed her back. When she licked his bottom lip, he opened them and welcomed her in as her tongue slid in and started caressing his. Meanwhile, her hands grabbed the book and laid it down on the floor.

She allowed the kiss to deepen as his hands strok her back. Without breaking the kiss, she unhook her bra and slid it down her arms. She took one of his hands and cupped her breast with it. They were the perfect size for his callous hands hardened by quidditch. He sat up, put his hands on her waist and rolled her over so he was on top of her. He felt her lips smile under his. She should have guessed. He was exactly the type of those who liked to be on top, in control. But she would decide when and how. Her arms went around his neck and her hand pulled his head down, pulling him still deeper in the kiss.

She felt one of his hand glide up her skin to her breast while the other was going inexorably down. When it reached her softness, he slid one knee between her thighs, opening her. While kissing her mouth, he cupped her. She gasped as she felt totally and completely exposed to his touch and to his cool fingers. Gently, he started rubbing her while his other hand was teasing her nipple.

She broke the kiss and arched her head back, giving him access to her throat. His lips touched her jaw, making her shiver. He kissed his way up to her ear and started nibbling her earlobe.

The only thing she could do was feel. He seemed to be everywhere. His hands caressing her firm body were lightning fire within her.

Soon, that fire was raging in her body, coming from his fingers, from his mouth, from him. Her body was begging, her mind pleading. She was blind with need. His finger sliding in her was her undoing. Fire imploded inside of her. She was no longer there, just feeling him and the waves of pleasure that shot through her burning body. She cried out while pure pleasure surrounded her. Then gradually, like ripples on water, the waves reduced, leaving her floating.

As she came back down to earth, her knickers had disappeared and he was already disrobing. In her human weakness, she had let him take over, but it was over now, and high time to take things back under control. As his boxers were thrown to the floor, she sat up and took his hands. Her head came next to his, she traced her tongue from his chin, up to his ear, then blew gently the way back. When he shivered, she stopped, her mouth opened, and she whispered softly:

"Do you trust me?"

He didn't answer but she felt him, more than saw him nod. Satisfied with his silence, she reached on the floor. Silently, she grabbed her wand and conjured a small silk headscarf. She stood up on the bed and circled him. Once she was behind him, she tied the cloth around his head and covered his eyes.

Staying behind him, she licked the base of his neck and slowly moved up leaving a burning trail on his skin, until her tongue touched his ear. She then took his lob into her mouth, sucking on it lightly. He groaned aloud but she felt his hand grab her wrist and, with a deep and husky voice he growled:

"Enough!" She knew he was becoming impatient and put an end to her teasing.

She opened her mouth and knowing that curiosity would get the better of him, she murmured in his ear:

"Sit on your ankles…" He gently obeyed her. Ginny inwardly smiled. Who would have thought that the Slytherin Prince would have obeyed her, a Weasley, so docilely? She wondered how he would react if he found out. But that wasn't part of her plan.

She rounded him and kneeled in front of him. Her gaze fell to his groin. She freed her hand still trapped in his, reached for him and closed her fingers about him. She heard him inhale, but didn't let go. He groaned again as her fingers fluttered and her grip tightened.

"Is that how like it?" she asked with a sensual voice, deepened by passion, heated by lust and desire. "Do tou prefer it gentle?" Her fingers brushed his length like feathers. "Or di you prefer ir rough?" Her nails dug into his skin and lefts red anfry marks up his shaft.

She heard him groan again and felt his fingers close about hers, guiding her. She leaned over and laid her mouth on his. Very gently, she brushed her lips over his, and ruthlessly ignored when he opened his, inviting her to deepen the kiss. With her tongue she caressed his inner lip and trapped it between hers, slowly suckling. She took it between her teeth and nibbled on it. As Draco moaned, she set it free. When her fingers left him, she felt him shiver from the loss of her touch.

Her hands spread out on his flat stomach then trailed upwards, brushing over his nipples, and came to rest on his broad shoulders. As she slowly rose, he reached for her and his hands slithered down her waist, her firm buttock and finally stopped at her soft thighs. Stepping lightly on the soft green bed, She placed her feet on either side of him and sank down.

His hand closed about the back of her thighs and helped her down, directing her. Her stomach brush over his chest, as he held her to him and lowered her on him. Smoothly, she turned her feet and rock forward, making her knees touch the mattress next to his thighs. The sensation rocked him and sent a jolt of aching pleasure through him.

Without stopping her descent, she let her weight urge her down and let him guide her the last part of the way. She abandoned herself completely to him, letting him take control of their joining when her soft slick flesh touched the tip of his throbbing erection.

She was so smooth, tight and hot that it took all of his will power not to thrust into her but instead, he explored her slowly, gliding his size in her. His hands let go of her thighs and locked about her waist, pulling her deeper, until she was completely filled by him, fascinated by the combination of softness and firmness. He released her waist and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, as if she was going to fade away and vanish.

The warmth that filled them held him captivated, subjugated by this young, unknown witch. Raising his hand, he untied the silk headscarf that kept him from admiring his stranger. Accustomed to obscurity, his eyes immediately ran over her white body, glowing in the moonlight. His mind shut to all his questions, savouring her smell and her raw beauty. She looked like a goddess. Oblivious to his stare, the young lady arched her head back, closing her eyes, adjusting to his size.

Feeling every inch of him burning inside her, Ginny's head came to rest on his shoulder. One of her arms circled his neck while her other small hand laid, fingers spread, on his chest. He covered it with his and felt, through her, his own heart beating. Slowly he raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles, the turned it around, kissing the inside of her palm, followed by her wrist.

When he felt her move, he closed his hands on her waist, holding her down. Sensing that this moment wasn't to be repeated, he said in a husky voice "Wait".

He needed to drink in that tenderness the woman straddling him was emanating. A desperate need he didn't totally understand. Draco had had his share of women, but all his heated lovemaking were completely devoid of feelings. This one was different. This girl was different. There was something about her.

Every muscle he possessed was aching with need to push in her vulnerable flesh. Yet he waited, holding her, breathing her, memorizing her scent, her touch. Everything in her was passion.

Ginny distended her body and her gaze locked with his. Both reached an unspoken agreement. To savour this moment, taking completely what the other had to offer and abandoning themselves totally to one another for this night. Bending their heads, they lips touched, gently at first, then increasing passionately as her body began calling for his touch, responding to the caress of his hands.

Then she started to move. Closing her eyes, she reached up and framed his face with her hands as her tongue caressed his, promising surrender. Using her knees on the soft silk of his bed and the contact of her thighs with his, very slowly, she started undulating on him. She didn't lift herself and slide down as inexperienced women would. She used her whole body in a sinuous, sensual movement that caressed him from his hard hips to his soft lips.

He had no idea where she had learned to make love but she rocked him completely. He surrendered to her, captivated by her body dancing on his. He was hers to command. And command she did.

Her movement started from her hips. She pressed herself down; taking him fully inside her burning wet softness. She then arched her back and head. The wave started from her hips and travelled up her spine in a slow and never ending roll, pressing her stomach, than her waist and finally her small but round and firm breast along his hard body. At last, her lips would brush over his, her tongue running over his and withdrawing all too quickly, leaving him both hypnotised and frustrated.

Draco chuckled as she was desperately trying to contain her moans. Softly, he whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, no one can hear you."

She felt his chuckle in evry part of her body. His hot breath aroused her and he drank in her moans and sounds as he had never drunk. Slowly, his hand come to her nape and spread his fingers, gliding them in her hair.

Without realising what happened, he saw a flow of red replace the blond hair as her wig stayed in his hand. Hypnotised by the gleam of gold in red, Draco's first thought was that this colour, the colour of love and passion suited her much better than the pale blond that he dropped to the floor. This woman was passion embodied. Pure fire.

He didn't know how long he admired her moving on him, around him. The colour exciting his senses already on fire, bringing the blood to his face. Doing nothing but feeling, smelling, admiring her and drinking her sounds from her lips, it took him some time to realise that this hair-colour could only belong to one person.

His eyes locked with hers, dilated by pleasure.

"You?" He asked, an unmistakable sound of shock in his voice.

Without stopping her dance, her lips curved into a small smile "yes" she whispered, "me"

Draco was completely dumbstruck by the woman in front of him. Ginny Weasley, the girl he had never even looked at as anything but a small child, was there, loving him with all the skills and expertise of a concubine from a sultan's harem skilled and educated for the sensual arts. Like Venus herself couldn't. But even more stunning was that she was doing this to him, Draco Malfoy, her enemy.

"Why ?"he asked in nothing more than a whisper.

When she didn't answer, he grabbed her arms, bruising her, forcing her to stop. When her dance ceased, frustration surrounded Draco, as if the world had stopped spinning. Her hot flesh around him intensified his aroused yet deprived state.

"Why?" he asked again, with a harsh voice, full of frustration. "Tell me"

Instantly, her smile faded away. She lowered her head and her gaze fell on his forearm. Draco inwardly cursed. He had completely forgotten about it. Never, had he forgotten to put a glamour charm to hide it, but tonight, he had. The woman in his arms, Ginny Weasley had the power to make a man forget everything, even his own name. But before her had time to hide it, her own fingers touched his mark. Draco froze. Slowly, her fingertips traced the ugly black mark. When her eyes finally met his again, he could see tears shinning behind her mask.

"I don't know" She answered honestly. "I needed it, I needed you."

Draco could only understand. His need for her was growing; his need for her tenderness, her passion was controlling him.

"Malfoy?…" Ginny's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

'Malfoy?' She called him 'Malfoy'… This almost made him laugh. He was still in her and she called him 'Malfoy'. Even in the way she called him she was different. Never had his name sounded so sweet than coming from her. Even if she was his enemy, he couldn't let her go. Not now.

"Please" she pleaded him. " You're hurting me" she said. Her eyes plunged into his, as grey as the storm of emotion raging in his head. Without realising it, Draco had tightened his grip around her, as if desperately trying to keep her from going.

"I'm sorry…" he said softly, letting go of her. Bruises had allready started forming on her arms. He felt a surge of proctectivness invade him. Gently, he brushed his thumbs, over her arms already reddening, breaking the tension that had built between them. His mouth trailed from her mouth up to her shoulders, and finally, to her neck. Gently, he took a lock of hair in his hand, and, closing his eyes, brought it to his face, breathing her scent.

"This colour suites you better…far better"

Gently, Ginny framed his face and brought his mouth to hers. When their lips joint, jolts of pleasure coursed through their bodies, starting from the joining of their mouths, to their most intimate joining.

Draco's hands travelled from her hair to her smooth behind. Gently, he cupped her two perfect cheeks and lifted her sliding her whole body against his, then, pulled her down on him until he was deeper in her than he had ever been. He was so high in her that she was incapable to tell when his body ended, when hers started. Strenght met softness like it was always meant to.

Slowly, but surely, Ginny resumed her sensual roll, with even more confidence than before.

His arms locked about her like the cage she knew they could be and his mouth searched hers in a blazing kiss. One of his arms locked about her waist and Ginny was, more than ever, aware of the strength buried deep inside her, so deep he could almost touch her soul.

Since she had impaled herself upon him, he hadn't moved, just letting her caress him with her body, her whole body, from her small sensual fingers, to her deep and hot inner flesh. As he started directing her, her hunger of what she had been giving him grew stronger. She couldn't ignore her pleading body anymore. He knew how to control her need to make her moan or whimper in desperate urge.

Slowly, he brought his hand to her black mask, raising it, but Ginny's small hand wrapped herself around his.

"No don't…" She whispered, but Draco gently pushed it away.

"I need to see you" he simply explained. Slowly, without breaking the eye contact, she let him remove her mask. Her white skin, softly sprinkled with small freckles, appeared to him. Glowing in the moonlight, her skin made a contrast with her deep red hair. Never had Draco loved that colour more than he did at that precise moment. Her chocolate brown eyes radiated a warmth he knew he couldn't find elsewhere.

His hand glided down her body. He moved with her, within her. He was now the one controlling their dance. As he surged inside her, filling her, then retreated, emptying her only to do it again, she tried to hold on to sanity but renounced and took pleasure in surrendering, abandoning her body to him, and his experienced hands.

She lost her slow rhythm and instead, found his, a melange of rawness and sensuality. Each thrust seemed to push him farther, deeper in her, to penetrate her more intimately, to touch a place he hadn't reached before.

Fire, coming from him consumed her. He pressed into her until she went up in flames. Suddenly, she could only feel, feel him, his hands on her skin, and his strength inside her. The sensation of liquid fire coursed through body, from her intimacy to her head. When blood invaded her mind, pleasure blinded her. Passion flooded her veins. As air left her lungs, she arched her head back and a husky cry, coming from deep inside her throat escaped her lips. Draco recognized his name.

One last time, he thrust into her. Her body tightened around his, locking him in a hot cage of softness and passion and he let go of what was left of his self-possession. Her own fire sent him into an inferno of pleasure as waves travelled through his body. When finally he joined her in the heat of passion, their mouths met as his semen filled her.

Slowly, the waves reduced, leaving them both breathing hard. None of them moved, not wanting to break the magic that they had created and that was now surrounding them. Ginny's damp forehead came to rest on his chest. Closing his arms around her, Draco started gently stroking her back beneath the soft red curtain of hair. Gradually, Ginny's breathing slowed down, and became deeper. Her eyes closed and her small hands fell from his chest to his thighs.

She had fallen asleep in his arms. Draco studied her. Asleep, she seemed to be a small child, searching for protection. Vulnerable, yet still possessing her unexplainable passion.

Gently, his hands close over her small waist and he lifted her. As he glided out of her, a cruel sensation of loss surrounded him and cold enclosed around them. Ginny, he thought, must have felt it too, for, in her sleep, she shivered and her hands searched for his.

As he laid her down on the sheets, he found trails of blood on her inner thighs. Questions began forming in his head as he settled near her. Instinctively, her head found his shoulders, and Draco pulled the covers on their meddled and naked bodies.

Draco couldn't find any answers. He hadn't been brutle, had he? No! He had never been so gentle. But the only other plausible explanation didn't make any sense. Could she really have been a virgin? He hadn't noticed any pain. Well to be honest, he hadn't really been looking for signs of pain. Then again, she had been so incredibly tight, it was easy to believe he was the first one, the only one to enter her. He looked at the blood now tainting the sheets and sighed. Yes she had been a virgin. And she had given herself completely freely to him. Him, who he thought she loathed.

There was no logical explaination to this. Yet he didn't want to ask her. It would ruin it.

Sleep began to claim him and darkness soon invaded his mind.

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A clicking sound woke him up. It was still dark. Automatically, he stretched out his arms, but found nothing. The sheets were still warm, but Ginny was gone. As he sat up, he found a parchment she had left him:

"Thank you. I'll never forget this night. But you have chosen your camp and I mine. No matter how much we want it, we cannot be together. It's too late for us."

It's too late for us…It's too late…The words danced in front of his eyes. Ignoring his pain, he concentrated on her last words. Was it really?

Tied to the parchment, was a lock of red hair. A lock from his goddess.

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The End

AN: So? What d'you think?. Please reveiw and let me know how you found it.

(And to answer a review, the reason Ginny wants to keep her mask is because she feels different, more bold when her face is covered. She is someone else entirely. Little Ginny Weasley would never dare to do such a thing!)