Prodigal façade
A.N: People having problems with BDSM, torture and Evil! Ginny themes stay away from this story. This will have a heavy dose of things that people associate with light side and love tremendously. Constructive criticism is very welcome, but otherwise don't waste your time on a review.
Summary: A new terror threatens the Wizarding World, as Ginny Weasley takes the place vacated by Lord Voldermort. But… the ever ambitious Draco Malfoy is still there and memories of sixth year can't be forgotten.
He looked into her eyes.
Calmness and Serenity.
She gazed into his orb.
Wrath, ambiguity.
She peeped into his heart.
Disappointment.
He wanted her. He wanted her so he could punish her in all the ways possible. She had been the sole reason of the flight of Potter.
He dismissed him. Peter Pettigrew had failed him entirely again.
He always believed in destructing the ego of his minnows. Physical punishment could be commenced later on. Right Now, he had more important matters to attend.
Peter went out of the room, shaking and quailing for more then one compelling reasons.
He was now alone in the dark room, elucidated by a single candle. The candle was bright enough to see her standing there with an offlandish smirk on her face.
Technically she was supposed to be his servant, but who looked for rules in his lair? He was the sole master of the palace.
Yes he "was" the sole master. Till a week ago. Before her arrival. She was comparatively new to their ranks and more curious was the fact that in public, even in front of him she hid her face with a mask. Her body was always covered with a dark, heavy cloak, which hid her features completely. She had been brilliant. She had even captured the wretched Potter.
Alone. How? He didn't know. Yet, she had done that and that had been his bane. For the first time he had seen her. Alone she had been sitting, when he had called her in for he thought that she would be hoping for a rise in the rank. She had gotten lot more then congratulations causing the Elves to wonder the cause of the rumpled bed.
He looked towards her, his face turned into an expression of cold fury, his eyes blazing with wrath, his mind screaming at him to punish his servant so badly that she would never dare to look at him.
Instead he felt himself compelled to just look at her. Look at her as she slowly revealed herself, slipping of the veil and unclasping the cloak.
Look at her while she teased him, taunted him, with actions unbidden and unseen.
What kind of mental torture was this! A minion was teasing him. His grip on his wand tightened.
She didn't flinch. Instead she moved ever closer to him, so much so that the tip of his wand was mere centimeters away from the bridge of her aristocratic nose yet covered in meaningless cloths.
Well for this matter her whole body was…unmatched. He concluded as he took a critical view of her robeless body. The pale skin gleamed in the light of the single candle distinguishing each desirable curve from the other and sending him to a sexually roller-coaster ride. Never had Voldermort seen a woman like her before. He didn't like the fact. The whore was becoming the master.
It didn't seem quiet right.
He clenched his fingers, his mind hissing at him to say something, even remotely daunting, just to wipe that bloody smirk of her face.
Instead he found himself looking into her deep brown eyes, fascinated by the light they contained. Her brows arched a little and to his horror he found himself moving forward towards her so that he was touching the tip of his nose. The wand noiselessly dropped on the Iranian Carpet. His mind was screaming at him to stop this show. She wasn't supposed to lead him around.
It seemed as if as an invisible force was mongering him towards her.
He felt his lips touching the soft skin of her cheek, trailing expertly along her skin, forming a pattern across her pale cheek.
She tasted of something unique. She tasted of someone. He couldn't quiet place it. At that moment he forgot all his grudges. He forgot that she had virtually freed his biggest enemy. He was completely caught up in her, as he tasted the sweet and boiling fragrance of her lips, which immediately sent waves of ecstasy down his body. The taste was too sweet and it seemed too false. But he cared not about anything right now. He lingered his lips there, ferociously sucking the living breath out of her. He gasped a little as he felt her hands traveling down his crocked body, touching his ghastly looking skin.
Her hands were doing all types of imaginable and unimaginable things and at that time he felt that Lord Voldermort was the most vulnerable wizard in the world.
"Why did you free Potter?" He managed to potter out.
Without stopping she shrugged and gave a nonchalant answer.
"Potter is a powerful wizard," She leaned forward. Her body was pressed against his skin and he could feel her pressure.
"And I wanted to no intruder." She moved forward and caught his lips with hers, pressing him against the couch, her hand moving lower and lower into unbidden territory.
"Stop this, Stop this t-torture." He managed to call out.
The hazel brown eyes looked at him with amusement and instead of stopping, with her calculated moments, she advanced methodically catching him at unawares and extracting a series of moans and groans from him.
*He looks almost human right now. Too bad his time is very short.* She thought as she gave him a rich smile. It hurt her to touch his slimy body. It hurt her to even touch this disgusted piece of slime. But sometimes you have to put aside personal tastes for a greater purpose. She had seen that the other death-eaters were not content with their living. They only worked for him because they feared him.
*They would soon have to make a choice. * She mused in her mind as she secretly spilled the liquor on her lips, taking care not to devour it. She didn't care that he would watch her. Sometimes simple charms such as Allusio were very helpful.
And she was very right, for he saw her lifting a finger to her lips, kissing it gently and then waving it in front of his eyes. The finger was instantly replaced by energetic lips.
"Do you really want me to stop, Master?" For a moment she lingered her mouth on his pale lips sucking them noisily.
"You! Why are you doing this! Why?" his tone was human. He looked human but the red light in his eyes had increased and power was building inside him.
A secret smile crept on her face.
That was what she wanted. She wanted to make him plead in front of her. So far, she was going on the right path.
Sighing, she lifted herself from his listless body and stood up, caressing the strains that had appeared on her modest looking robes.
"Because Master," She paused for a while.
He hated it when she uttered master like that. He had never been the one to bear Snide comments but right now he felt himself acting accordingly with her commands. His mind knew that she was mocking him. She wasn't what she appeared to be. Deep in his mind he knew that he was dealing with a master-mind. He knew that she was part of the plot set against him.
"Because Master," She repeated, but her voice seemed like a hiss coming from far-away for at time he felt darkness creeping towards him. He felt his mind swinging and scenes of past life started running in his mind. He watched the scenes he most hated, the memories he had forcefully suppressed struck him with full vigor. He saw himself crouching in front of Mr. Evan, the School Instructor. He watched himself being beaten by a gang of Youngsters. He watched himself being spit upon by Gryffindors. He watched her die. At that moment, he couldn't bear it. The last nerves in his brain starting cracking and he felt numbness, everlasting numbness creeping through his body. And in this haze he heard the last words that were ever spoken to Tom Marvolo Riddle.
"Because Master, I have always admired your ways of mental torture and I wanted to find out the results of the recent potion that you had yourself conceived. Alas the founder of the hell kiss would not be able to remember that he has created something that can rival Dementor's kiss." With that his mind snapped out.
Ginny Weasley gave a mirthless snort and lifted her hood. Fiery red hairs fell back on the black robe that had recently been stained by its first murder.
As he had always feared, The Dark Wizard had given way to the Dark Lady.
Suddenly she tensed and whipping around she ordered calmly,
"Wormtail, you can show yourself."
Such was her voice that the door opened and in came a man, almost crawling on all four.
She looked at his face and lifted Voldermort's wand from the floor. Twirling it airily in her fingers she said in a careless sort of tone.
"You know that your master never thought good of snoopers." The man began shaking and starting crawling towards her.
"Stop! You know his punishment for snooping?" The figure shook its head vigorously and for a moment her eyes caught the gleam coming from its lifeless hand.
"I don't care for Crucio," The figure's eyes lit up.
"So I guess it should be Aveda Kedevra!"
Ginny Weasley smiled as she opened the door.
"2 gone, 1 to go."