Dirty
For the 'baa baa black sheep' challenge at the HPFC forum. My character was Ginny Weasley, my taboo was alcohol and my prompt was 'dirty' and here is the result.
She was giggling again, her laughter echoing through the castle, bouncing along the walls and the high ceilings as she walked up the staircase. Her foot caught on one of the steps as the magical stairs suddenly began to shift and she just managed to catch the railing before she faceplanted onto the steps. Another round of laughter bubbled up in her chest and she clapped her hand over her mouth to try to muffle it, listening as intently as she could manage for the sounds of any footsteps, wondering if this time she would be caught. There was nothing to break the silence but the sounds of her footsteps and giggles.
A bottle of firewhiskey was clutched tightly in her hand as she began climbing the stairs again, keeping her free hand tight on the rails to keep her swaying body steady. Her first sip of the alcohol had been with Michael Corner the past year when he had snuck some in and shared with her. That was also the night she had given her body to a man for the first time, drunk and giggling wildly with the edges of her vision blurring. Her hazy memory couldn't remember the actual act, she had blacked out before he had even finished as far as she knew. She could recall his whisper in her ear, the way he had fed her more and more liquor while pretending to take swigs of the bottle himself. She hadn't noticed then how strange it was that she couldn't stand upright yet he was acting perfectly normal. She remembered his hands and his lips and them removing each other's clothes in a haste, the way she had batted him away at first and insisted she wasn't ready and the way he had told her to take some more Firewhiskey, and more and more until she had no idea what was going on anymore and all she knew was the soft bed underneath her and how much sense he had made when he had whispered in her ear that of course she was ready, she liked him and he liked her and what more did there need to be?
In the morning, she had woken up with a hell of a hangover and not able to recall the night before until after she had gone and gotten a potion for the awful pounding of her head and twisting of her stomach. Then it had come back to her, and all she felt was dirty. Dirty, used and disgusted with herself. She had even begged Luna to obliviate her, not wanting to remember the feel of Michael's hands or the sound of his voice. The fair haired girl had looked at her and sighed, shaking her head sadly and naturally refused the request. She had skipped classes that day and stood, dazed, in the shower for two hours, remembering and scrubbing her skin until it was tinted red all over.
After telling Michael that she never wanted to speak to him again, she had gone back to her empty dormitory and drank and drank and drank until she had passed out cold on her bed, waking up the next morning and not even being able to remember how she had felt the day before.
By the time she began seeing Dean, Michael and the incident were buried far in the depths of her mind. Dean was kind and wonderful and always kept his hands to himself at the start of it. Only after the summer did he began to kiss her more deeply, though she didn't mind, and let his hands explore her clothed body. It was when his fingers slid up her thighs one winter day during a snogging session that she pulled back abruptly, looking furious.
"What is it, Gin?" He'd asked, concerned.
"What were you doing?" She demanded, sliding herself off of his lap.
"We've been dating for six months, Ginny. I won't do anything you don't want, I just thought… I dunno, that maybe you wanted to go further. You and Michael weren't together this long."
"Me and Michael? What are you talking about?"
He had stared at her, brow furrowing and looking like he didn't want to speak the next words but her eyes remained on him until he did, looking uncomfortable. "Well, he told all his mates when you slept with him last year. It wasn't any secret."
She had blinked, surprised before leaving the empty classroom with a slam of the door. Dean had been shocked when his fiery tempered girlfriend had crawled into his bed later that night, pulling the curtains closed and silencing them, reeking of liquor with red-rimmed eyes. She hadn't wasted any time in climbing on top of him and pressing her lips against his, seemingly surprised when he pushed her off and demanded an explanation. She had told him then all about Michael Corner and the truth, and then gone on to insist that none of that mattered and she really wanted it with Dean, practically begging him to take her in a way that most men wouldn't have been able to refuse. He had looked at her, drunk and pleading and desperate and told her to go back to her own bedroom.
After that display, he had started treating her as if she were more fragile than a china plate, insisting on carrying her books and keeping his arm around her at all time and always helping her through the portrait hole. It was sweet and meant to make her feel loved, she knew, but it only drove her crazy and made her feel even worse that the new information had changed Dean's thoughts of her. She wasn't going to break, she wanted to scream, she was fine. She was the same old Ginny Weasley.
After breaking up with him, she felt more aware of her surroundings than ever. She had never noticed before the scathing looks girls gave her or the boys leering at her. As she passed by a group of Slytherin students in the library once, she had heard one of them remark that he had heard it only took a couple gulps of alcohol to get into her knickers.
Alcohol had become her best friend since then. She never had to remember anything. Any of the comments or the looks. She could forget everything in just a matter of hours. Tonight was one of those nights that she so desperately wished to forget. Earlier that night, Harry had kissed her in front of everybody. They were together now, she supposed, but didn't know how it made her feel. She wasn't certain she could feel anything anymore. But she couldn't reject him, as much as girls hated her now for being with the so-called Chosen One, they would hate her even more for being the one to shatter his heart. She'd had a crush on Harry once but it had been years ago. He was just like another brother these days, and she felt trapped in her emotions. There was no winning either way. She didn't want to feel and the liquor would make that possible. She smiled when she reached the high tower of the astronomy classroom, climbing up onto a ledge to sit with her back pressed against the wall and gazing out at the night sky. It was beautiful, filled with stars and a big, white moon that lit up the castle grounds. Nobody was around but her, her and the sky and her lack of feelings and that was how she liked it, Ginny thought as she pulled the bottle back up to her lips, drawing in another large gulp.
The bottle against her lips felt so much more right than Harry's mouth had felt, pressing against hers. It hadn't made her feel good, not really. She'd known he was going to kiss her and known she should have pulled back, but she couldn't do that to him, not with everyone watching like that, and now she just felt bitter and frustrated with herself. There was a name for girls like her, Ginny had been telling herself for ages. Girls that crawled into boys beds, girls that gave their bodies away with ease, who boys and girls alike whispered about, girls who snogged boys in front of groups of people even if they didn't quite like them, just because.
Her life had become a mess. She was barely passing her classes and she had OWLs this year. She had a reputation and it wasn't a good one. She was now the girlfriend of famous Harry Potter and she was trying desperately to drink away even the knowledge of that. He thought she was as wonderful as Dean had, and she didn't want that. They needed to see her for what she was. She needed them to see how awful she was, what a disaster she was, how dirty and filthy and disgusting she was. Their ideas of her disgusted Ginny more than she disgusted her own self at times.
She was drawn from her musings by footsteps that she hadn't heard before and a taunting voice. "A weasel out of bed. How exciting for me, and a bottle of Firewhiskey you've smuggled in? Surely this will be an expulsion."
"Good." She responded, tearing her gaze from Malfoy's face to look back at the sky and pointedly tossing back another swallow of the burning liquid. The taste and the burn didn't even affect her anymore, she took great delight in them.
He looked puzzled but the expression was gone in an instant and replaced with his usual sneer as he took a step towards her. "What's the matter, little red? Finally realizing what blood traitors your family really is? Or have they discovered that their daughter is the school whore?"
She ignored him but could feel his questioning gaze on her face, not willing to give up so easily. "Being the girlfriend of famous Harry Potter too much for you? Don't want to be the Chosen one's chosen girl after all?"
She stood up, ready to retire to her dormitory but he stepped in front of her, still glaring. "Afraid he'll find out, is that it? About Michael Corner or about this? I bet he thinks you're some little darling. Do you think Potter would still want you if he knew about the late night alcohol binges, or how dirty you really are?"
She stared back at him, chocolate eyes blank and a smile crooking at her lips. She could see that he thought she had gone insane in that moment. "No," she said finally, her voice slow and slurred only just. "I don't suppose he would. Are you going to tell him?"
He looked lost for words then smirked again, crossing his arms. "Maybe I will. What are you planning to do about it?"
She fully smiled then and leaned forward, kissing him so swiftly that he didn't even know if it had really happened and then, just like that, she had stepped around him and walked off to return to Gryffindor tower, leaving behind nothing but her bottle and a tingle against his lips.