Warning: Rated M for sex, simulated non-consent. If either of these will bother you in the slightest, please don't read!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. No lawsuits please!
Pairing: Draco x Ginny. Don't like, don't read!
Author's Note: I am a long-time Harry Potter fan and a medium-time fanfiction author, though this is my first effort in the Harry Potter fandom. Takes place during Order of the Phoenix. Please be kind, and I hope you enjoy it! =)
Not At All As It Seems
"We have to find out what he's up to," Harry Potter declared with determination to his friends.
"But Harry, we can't follow him into the dungeons, and at night no less! We'll be caught and then Umbridge will have us expelled!" Hermione wailed in his ear. "There's nothing worse than being expelled, Harry!"
"How about the Dark Lord rising to power and having a minion right here in Hogwarts?" Harry countered. "Isn't that worse? And where on earth is Ginny?"
"She's serving a detention or something," Ron chimed in. "Malfoy caught her with some of Fred and George's joke stuff on her, I think she said."
"Well, now we really have to get that bastard," Harry affirmed, his voice thick with resolve as he tried to determine what path his rival had taken into the deeper reaches of the castle.
xxxxxx
The redheaded girl lay on the floor of the dungeon, the cold stone beneath her causing a chill to seep into her body all the way to her bones. The small, thin nightgown she wore, silken and ivory in color, elegantly trimmed with black lace, offered little protection from the cold, and from the other things she knew were coming.
How long, she began to wonder, before he returned to the dark, dank room? How long before it would begin again?
As it turned out, she didn't have long to wait after all. The heavy oak door creaked as it swung open on ancient iron hinges, the figure entering cast in silhouette by the much brighter light of the corridor. His footsteps as he entered the dungeon fell slowly and deliberately on the frigid floor, echoing loudly off the stone walls. He swung the door shut behind him, letting it fall back into place with a heavy thud before he approached the trembling girl in the dim light of the dungeon's single lit candle.
"I've been waiting for this, Blood Traitor," he hissed darkly, and with a flick of his wand, a length of rope securely bound her wrists. "This time, there will be no one to rescue you. No one will help you escape."
With another flick of his wand, several more candles lit in the darkness, casting a strong glow over the two of them, her hair gleaming a coppery red in the light of the flames and his a shimmering platinum blonde. He tucked his wand away in his outer robes and shrugged them off, hanging them from a rusted hook that protruded from the wall. There would be no more wand-play; from here out, everything he did would be done with his own bare hands, and he would relish every moment of it.
As he turned back to her, she rose to her knees before him. He regarded her silently, taking slow steps toward her as he first loosened and removed his tie before unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling his sleeves up, exposing his forearms. The Dark Mark was visible there, seeming to writhe on his skin. He'd been branded only recently, more by his father's will than his own, but that mattered little. His service to the Dark Lord was demanded of him, on pain of death.
"Please," Ginny Weasley whimpered, her eyes wide and glistening in the candlelight.
He lashed out quickly, surely, catching her across the face in a backhanded slap that sent her back to the floor. She didn't stay there long, however, as he reached down and fisted a pale hand in her crimson tresses, pulling her roughly to her feet. She gasped as he nearly dragged her to the wall, her stumbling feet only just able to keep up. Once there, he slammed her back roughly against the wall and yanked her arms above her head, securing the rope that bound her wrists to a hook much like the one that held his cloak. She could only barely reach the floor with the balls of her feet, and certainly could not muster the leverage to free herself.
"You'll get no mercy from me, Muggle-lover," he growled, his voice pitched low and menacing.
With that, he gripped the neckline of the nightgown in both hands and rent it forcefully, tearing it completely down the front. He fisted a hand in her hair again, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. He bit down on her neck hard enough to leave a bruise, bit again, lower this time, and continued working his way down to her exposed breasts. His teeth and tongue upon the soft flesh drew a sharp cry from her, a cry she quickly stifled.
"You think you won't scream for me," he breathed in her ear, "but you will."
His hands moved from her body to his own trousers, from which he made short work of freeing himself. He ached and throbbed in his excitement, had, in fact, since he'd walked through the door and seen her on the floor waiting for him. He gripped her thighs and settled between them, his hardened member pressing against her opening.
She was ready for him, unbelievably ready, and he groaned softly as he sank into her. It was difficult, sometimes, not to break character in moments like this, not to reach out and cup her face tenderly in his hand, although it was by their mutual desire that these encounters were arranged. Nor would she mind if he did so, but he could do that at any time he pleased, while this… this was something special, a release both of them craved. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her thighs, knowing his hands would leave their imprint behind, and thrust into her again with much more force.
Ginny pulled against the ropes that held her aloft, moaning as Draco took her roughly, ravaging her body exactly as she wanted him to. She slammed into the wall as he pounded into her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to send him deeper within as her control began to slip.
"Oh, yes… Draco… yes…" she cried out, her words shifting to a savage scream as she came undone around him. He offered up his own ragged groan as the convulsions within her body sent him over the edge, spilling into her depths.
Once finished, breathless, he leaned into her, resting his forehead against her own. His eyes, a stormy grey, found her unfocused gaze. He could look into those eyes endlessly, he felt. The moment breached the illusion of their shared fantasy, as it always did, but he couldn't help it. In the few moments after they'd completed each other, he was never able to maintain his aggressive façade. Nor, really, did she seem to mind.
He tucked himself back into his trousers and was about to lift her down when the door gave a great crash and was blasted into the room. He only just managed to protect her nearly-naked form from a cascade of splintered wood fragments with his own body; fortunately his clothes prevented him from suffering any injury. That did nothing, however, to answer the troubling question of why the door had just exploded, but that answer would come soon enough.
As the cloud of debris settled, three figures rushed into the room. Draco knew immediately who they were; if he needed confirmation, which he certainly didn't, the bushy hair of the more slender female silhouette would have been a dead giveaway.
He found himself suddenly held at wand-point by none other than Harry Potter and company, and he was himself wandless.
"No one was actually supposed to come and rescue you this time, right?" he murmured to Ginny in confusion.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY SISTER?" the form that was Ronald Weasley bellowed.
Draco stepped away from Ginny, swiping his sleeve down to hide the Dark Mark before raising his hands to show that he was unarmed; his eyes were once more cold as steel.
"Nothing that's any of your business, Weaselby," he hissed.
"Now really isn't the time for you to be mouthing off," Harry spoke sharply. "You're lucky I don't cut you down right here, but being that I'm not a filthy Slytherin, I'm possessed of an innate sense of fairness."
"Granger's been helping you expand your vocabulary, has she, Potter?" Draco smirked.
"That's quite enough!" Ginny roared from her place on the wall. Carefully lifting one foot, she found a small ledge on the wall behind her that the others hadn't noticed, and used it to lever her bound hands from the hook above her head. She held out her wrists in front of her. "Hermione, as Draco's been caught without his wand, would you mind?"
Stunned beyond all speech but that required for the incantation, Hermione flicked her wand and removed the rope. Ginny nodded her thanks as she crossed the room, rubbing circulation back into her wrists, not even bothering to hold the torn nightgown closed as both her brother and Hermione had the decency to avert their eyes.
"Ginny, what the hell?" Harry yelled, staring at her. "If you could get down at any time, why would you let him…"
"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione wailed as though pleading for Harry to get a clue. "She was willing. We've just barged in on something that's not at all as it seems."
"What?" Harry replied, cluelessly.
He looked around the room. There were some things that didn't make sense, come to think of it. For one thing, Ginny was glaring at him angrily rather than thankfully as she shucked off the ruined nightgown, apparently not caring that she was nude in front of them. Then there was the fact that she was reaching for a pile of her own clothes, clothes that had been neatly folded and stacked carefully out of the way. And for some reason, the candlelight in the room, rather than looking menacing, seemed downright romantic.
However, the most pressing piece of evidence was the fact that Malfoy himself looked completely unharmed. Now that he really thought of it, Harry found it unlikely that Ginny wouldn't have been able to at least get a piece of him, had she wanted or needed to. There weren't even signs that Malfoy had suffered bats crawling out of his nostrils, and that was Ginny's signature move.
So what, then, did that leave?
As Harry struggled to force an answer from his overtaxed brain, two more people came stumbling through the doorway. Stopping up short, Fred and George surveyed the scene before them: Ginny, dressing angrily in the corner, Malfoy, wandless and looking positively incensed, Harry, looking confused, Hermione, looking embarrassed, and Ron, looking both confused and embarrassed. Their youngest brother spotted them and rounded on them, his face pleading for them to throw him some kind of lifeline.
"Fred! George! Thank goodness you're here!" Ron cried out as his elder siblings stepped through the doorway. "The things we've just caught Malfoy doing to Ginny, you can't imagine!"
"Oh, erm… well about that…" Fred began hesitantly.
"We might have already known," George finished.
"What?" Ron bellowed incredulously. "You knew this was going on and didn't tell me?"
"Look, it isn't the kind of gossip one spreads about one's own sister," Fred elaborated.
"Or even two's own sister," George added.
"We just happened upon them by accident once. Much like this."
"Honestly, Ron, you really didn't know about our sister's proclivities? You didn't even suspect?"
"You don't suppose he doesn't know about our proclivities, do you, George?" Fred stage-whispered to his twin as he eyed their younger brother.
"Well, I expect he might now, Fred," George sighed disapprovingly, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Fred pleaded. "Look, seeing as the dungeon's occupied, why don't we make use of the Room of Requirement?"
George's expression softened. "Do you think it might turn into a janitor's closet again, like that time we were hiding from Filch?" he asked, blushing slightly.
"I think it just might, if that's what you want," Fred whispered tenderly, taking his twin's hand in his own.
"Race you there!" George cried with gleeful exuberance, taking off at a run and nearly dragging Fred behind him down the corridor.
"Play on!" Fred called back to them over his shoulder.
"That's just great," Harry snapped. "What are we going to do now? Ron?"
He turned to his best friend, who now looked somewhat pale and queasy. Ron, he noticed, was eyeing Ginny nervously, who had nearly finished dressing and was casting menacing glares at her sibling, twirling her wand idly between her fingers.
"Well I don't know about the two of you," Ron whimpered, "But I am going to go back to the dormitory, crawl in bed, and cry for a very long time."
"You have got to be joking!" Harry erupted. "Your sister and Malfoy? It's a bit much! You can't tell me you aren't going to do anything about it!"
"I don't know if someone can die from Bat Bogeys," Ron shouted fearfully, "but I don't intend on finding out!" With that, the redheaded boy fled from the dungeon.
"Harry…" Hermione offered tentatively, "I really think… this might be something that's better left alone. It really isn't our business." As Harry cast her a withering glare, she, too, slunk from the room.
Ginny continued buttoning her blouse, apparently content to ignore Harry now that he was on his own. As she drew the cuff closed about her wrist, she let out a sharp hiss. Malfoy's attention, Harry saw, was on her again immediately.
"What is it, Gin?" the blonde boy spoke softly.
"Oh, it's just a bit of chafing, from the rope," she remarked, eyeing her wrist with irritation as she came to stand before him. "It cut a bit deeper than usual this time, that's all."
"Let me see it," he commanded gently, reaching for his robes on the hook and retrieving his wand. She held out her wrist to him, and he softly murmured incantations as he waved his wand over it, his motions delicate as he healed the wound.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice low and filled with warmth.
"Anything for you, my love," he whispered back, drawing her hand to his lips and kissing it tenderly.
When they looked up again, Harry had gone, having finally realized there was no place for him there.
"Damn him and his judgments," Ginny seethed in Harry's wake. "At least it won't get around; if Harry were to tell anyone about this, Ron would probably end him."
"I think that's the least of our worries, Gin," Draco murmured, troubled.
Now that they were alone, Ginny pulled her lover's hand close and pushed his sleeve back up his forearm. She cupped the arm gently in her other hand, staring intently at the Dark Mark, and Draco let his eyes fall closed for a moment as she lightly ran her thumb over it. He opened them again to find her meeting his gaze, her eyes blazing with determination.
"Somehow, Draco, we'll find a way to get rid of this thing," she vowed, not for the first time. "I swear it."
"There's only one way that I know of," he whispered sadly, "and that's to kill the Dark Lord."
Her hand left his arm, instead running up his chest to cradle his neck as she drew him to her, her lips finding his. Their kiss was slow and passionate, filled with the cold heat that existed between them and only them. When they broke apart, his gaze found hers once more, her eyes still blazing as she whispered to him in return.
"Anything for you, my love."
A/N: If you're still here, thanks for reading! And feel free to review, if you want to show some love! =)
