Hello and welcome to my first attempt at a fanfic. This idea has been bobbingaround in my mind for a while. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going from here, so please be kind! I'd love to hear your thoughts
***Please note. This is Not Nice from the very start. Anyone wanting a fluffy piece of lemony smut had best not continue. You have been warned. Rape lies ahead.***
Enjoy!
"No, don't, not tonight. Please…"
"Shut up."
"Please, I'm tired… you're hurting me!"
"Shut up."
The red headed girl sobbed into the pillow as her petite body was held down, her head twisted to the side so she could breathe despite the hand on the back of neck, tangled in her thick hair, bearing down with an almost cruel amount of weight.
Her tears soaked into the fine linen and she felt her beautiful new gown begin to give at the seams as her assailant, her abuser, her lover, her husband began to frantically pull it up and over her hips.
"Please. The baby…"
"Well, you'll have to be quiet then… now shut up and enjoy. I saw you flirting with the serving staff tonight. I saw you flutter those eyelashes and pout those pretty lips. You want this. You wouldn't wind me up if you didn't want this."
Ginny Potter screamed into the bedding as her once-darling prince slammed into her tiny body, taking his pleasure in her pain. His fetid breath, tainted with fire whisky cloyed over her cheek with every grunt and thrust. His weight shifted as he allowed
/moreof it to settle onto her small frame. The last thing she heard before his hand closed around her throat and darkness took her was his deceptively soothing voice.
"There, that's better my darling, just do as you are told, be a good girl and it will all be fine…"
The morning light and the sound of laughter woke Ginny from her slumber, her body ached and she felt an all to familiar stab of pain between her thighs. Sighing, she eased her way out of the luxurious four poster bed and stumbled to the marbled bathroomadjacent
/to their bedroom. Showering, she grimaced as the sponge tracked over new bruises on her ribs and shoulders, the water ran red down her legs as a memento of her husbands love.
Ginnys breasts hurt, a timely reminder that her beautiful daughter needed her first feed of the day. Drying off, she cast her customary glamours over her throat and wrists to hide the bruises. She briefly wondered why he never touched her face. Whatever
/his reasons, she was grateful.
Quickly she dressed, pulling a comfy jumper and muggle skinny jeans on with thick socks, she padded down the hall to her daughters suite of rooms. Pushing open the door she carefully rearranged her features into a semblance of a smile, took a deep breathand
/greeted her nanny.
"Morning Livvy, how's Sophie this morning? Was she ok last night?"
"Yes m'am she was lovely, settled right down and only woke once, she's just woken if you'd like to feed her?. Did you and Mr Potter enjoy the gala?"
"Oh it was lovely thanks" Ginny answered as she took her 6 month old daughter into her arms. Settling into a plush rocking chair she freed a breast and with the ease of months of practice latched her daughter on. Feeling the familiar initial nip as hermilk
/began to flow she leaned back into the cushions and began to relax.
The gala had been held as a fund raiser for her husbands pet charity. The Harry Potter War Orphans Fund had been set up after the final defeat of He Who…. Voldemort. No point not naming him any more. It's aim was to provide early years education, shelterand
/love to children orphaned in the war, no matter what side their parents fought on. Last night had been an opportunity to welcome the rich and famous into their home to promote their good works, gain publicity and line the charity's coffers.
For Ginny, last night had been hell.
On the surface, she knew her and Harry painted a pretty picture. Her, a petite. beautiful, 27 year old,5ft 3 redhead. A new mother, glowing with love and pride for her handsome, if slightly portly these days husband. At 29 hisblack hair wasshowinga
sprinkling of greysbut was
still as messy as ever, his broken glasses traded for designer rimless, his scar as pronounced as always. A good foot taller than his wife he oozed charisma and charm. With his arm around his wife's waist he pulled her in tight and whisperedsweet
nothings in her ear.
It was all a charade.
Ginny shuddered as she remembered, lost in her reverie she barely even noticed the hot cup of tea arrive at her elbow. Without thinking she swapped baby Sophie, her tiny, pale, raven haired child to the other breast.
Harry's fingers had pinched her wrist cruelly as he whispered his hatred into her ear, his accusations of her infidelity were always exaggerated when he had been drinking, and on these occasions he liked to drink.
"Whore" he hissed. "I see you. I see the way you're looking at our guests. I see the way they look at you. Slut. No better than a gutter tramp. I'll show you who belong to. You're mine."
Ginny had nodded, flinched and winced as his nails nipped her skin. Pulling her hand away she closed her eyes and forced a bright smile onto her face as yet another guest approached….
Unbeknownst to her, a pair of grey eyes had been watching her every move, noting her face flicker with pain and fear.
Draco Malloy did not want to be there. It galled, attending a gala in his old home. For centuries the Malfoys had owned this palatial house until it was confiscated upon the defeat of the Dark Lord and the death of his parents. As the hero of the hour,it
/had been gifted to Potter and that blood traitor Weasley. Sorry, Mrs Potter.
He lounged at the side of the ballroom, hidden in shadow and people watched. He had to be there to keep up appearances, to show contrition for his war crimes, but no one said he had to enjoy it. His eyebrow slowly rose as he saw the master and mistressof
/the house arrive to greet the guests. Potter had let himself go. Apparently he enjoyed good food and good drink a bit too much. Weasley, on the other hand, looked good enough to eat. A dark emerald gown, shot through with threads of silver, flowedover
/her tiny body, hugging each petite curve like a second skin. It pooled at her feet, the material as delicate as gossamer. Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably as his body made its opinion on her appearance known.
He watched, sliding a tumbler of whiskey off a nearby tray as the happy couple laughed and chatted with various members of society. He noted the looks Ginny shot to her husband, noted with interest that they looked increasingly fearful rather than
/watched as Harry slid an arm around his wife's waist and watched as his expression twisted with venom as he spoke to his wife. It was all strangely reminiscent of the way his father had treated his mother in life.
"Interesting, definitely interesting" he muttered to himself as he downed the whiskey, dropped a cheque into the collection box and left.
So, that's where we are at! More to come soon. Please do let me know what you thought.