Ginny was getting cold.
There was no heat source in the room; the ceiling was so far away as to be out of sight, and no doubt any warm air was up there with it. The stones themselves were cold and slightly damp.
She had taken off her robes and wrapped them around Pansy, who was still shivering miserably on the floor. Ginny had already cast a warming charm around the girl, although that hadn't seemed to help her much either. She didn't have the skill to maintain another for herself.
She'd given Pansy the robes more for the comfort than the warmth. The girl was still so frightened, and seeing the normally proud and haughty creature reduced to this wrenched at Ginny's heart. Perhaps she should have been amused to see her enemy in such a state, but Ginny found that she only wanted to soothe her fears away. She had wanted to keep holding her, because that had seemed to help, but she couldn't do that and effectively look for a way out. So she'd wrapped her robes around her instead.
Ginny had experienced a brief, childish moment of embarrassment at being seen by the elegant Slytherin in her shabby, homemade jumper and frayed Muggle jeans. Had these been normal circumstances, the Pansy Parkinson she knew would have drawled some disdainful comment either about the clothes or her family's general poverty. But Pansy's full attention seemed focused a the vain attempt to control her fear. When Ginny had wrapped her robes around her, Pansy had smiled just weakly and thanked her, in between shallow gasps of breath.
Ginny knew that she had to get Pansy out of here soon. The other girl was not only clearly unable to govern her panic, but it seemed that she might have actually made herself seriously ill. She had vomited several times already, and though Ginny had banished the mess each time and cast purifying spells on Pansy's mouth to remove the taste, the sour smell still permeated the air of their prison.
Pansy was sweating profusely, so much so that Ginny had needed to cast drying charms on the girl's hair and clothes twice already, yet her skin was cool to the touch. Pansy had also begun to experience spells of dizziness that made it hard for her to even sit up. Ginny knew that at the very least Pansy must be dehydrated by now, but she feared that it might be more serious than that.
They had been trapped for what must have been at least three hours. Ginny had painstakingly searched every inch of the walls she could reach, looking for a trigger. She'd cast aparecium about the room randomly, hoping to reveal something of use. She'd attempted to create a door, and failing that she'd angrily (and equally unsuccessfully) attempted to blast a hole in the wall. She'd also cast all the noise-generating spells she could think of to draw attention to their position, hoping to attract Filch, Mrs. Norris, or whomever else might be prowling about at this hour. All she'd managed was to give herself a headache.
Ginny realized that if Peeves had been telling the truth and this really was a trap built by Slytherin himself, there were likely dozens of charms on the place, all intended to keep prisoners like Ginny from using their magic to escape. Considering her own personal experience with such things, Ginny thought that curling up on the floor next to Parkinson and cowering in fear might be a perfectly reasonable response to the situation. As it was, she was just grateful that this chamber didn't appear to be designed to do anything other than keep them prisoner.
Dawn must be approaching. There was hope that rescue might come soon, even though it was a Saturday morning and the castle's inhabitants would wake a bit later than during the week. If no one had noticed they were missing yet, they surely would soon.
It galled Ginny to admit it, but their best hope of getting out of here was a rescue. Someone would have to notice they were missing, and then find them here.
Gryffindor didn't have Quidditch practice until nine, so it wasn't likely she'd be missed until then. But Slytherin had the pitch at six, so perhaps Bulstrode would notice Pansy's absence when she woke and alert Snape, who would almost certainly know Ginny had been in his office, delivering that note...
Oh, this is just useless.
Ginny kicked the wall in frustration. Even though she trusted that someone would find them eventually, and probably rather soon at that, she still had promised Pansy that she would get them out. And there seemed to be nothing, nothing at all she could do except sit and wait for someone else to rescue them.
She picked up the book she had swiped from Snape's desk. A useless thing - full of blank pages, or at least as far as Ginny could tell. It had not responded to any revealing spells that she knew. Ginny thought that, at the very least, she ought to make Pansy as comfortable as possible while they waited. She knelt down beside the girl and raised her wand over the book, preparing to transfigure it into a pillow.
Pansy looked up, her eyes suddenly going very wide.
"Wait!" she cried, sitting up abruptly, and taking the book from Ginny's hands. The moment she did, the book's cover changed from a nondescript brown to a deep green, and the Slytherin serpent appeared in the center, embossed in silver.
"Do you know what this is?" Pansy asked, her voice sounding slightly awed.
"Um, I..." Smooth, Weasley.
"I already know that this isn't your book. But do you know what it is?"
Ginny shook her head.
"If it's what I think it is..." Pansy opened the book, and started leafing through the pages. What had been blank parchment a moment before was now covered with writing and hand-drawn illustrations. "Yes! Yes, it is! Oh, thank Merlin!"
Pansy's terror seemed to have subsided with this new discovery, whatever it was. She cast a quick translation spell and shifted so that the dim light from the torches lit the book a little better. Ginny moved in for a closer look.
"So what is it?"
"This book was written by Salazar Slytherin himself." Pansy said reverently. "When he abandoned Hogwarts, he left this book with his son, who became the first Slytherin Head of House. It's belonged to every Head of Slytherin House since. It's... a manual, of sorts."
"A manual?" echoed Ginny suspiciously. She didn't like the sound of anything written by Salazar Slytherin, let alone a secret book of... instructions for his House. The gods knew what sort of Dark magic he'd infected the thing with.
"Yes. And among other things, I think it has information on the, er... modifications Slytherin made to Hogwarts. And if this room is what that horrid poltergeist said it was..."
Ginny felt the blood leave her face. This room was hardly the most sinister of Slytherin's "modifications" to Hogwarts, as she knew only too well. But if this book had the kind of information Pansy was talking about...
Then Pansy turned the page.
The Chamber of Secrets was rendered there in ink, drawn in careful detail by the hand of the man who had built it. A magical illustration, for when the wizard depicted in the foreground raised his wand, a basilisk emerged from the mouth of the stone statue built into the wall of the chamber. The drawing was so well rendered and lifelike that Ginny half-expected the wizard to turn around, revealing the face of Tom Riddle.
Ginny, in her impatience to read what was written there, grabbed the book away from the other girl's lap. As soon as the book left Pansy's fingers, the pages went blank again.
Pansy looked up in surprise, followed quickly by anger. "What on earth are you doing?"
"The Chamber of Secrets! This has information on the Chamber of Secrets!" shouted Ginny, waving the book at Pansy almost accusingly.
"Well, of course it does. I just told you that..."
"You mean that you Slytherins knew all about that place and didn't tell anyone?" Ginny asked angrily. "You knew... Snape knew that it was more than a legend, knew how to stop it even, and you let it all happen anyway?" Ginny had only just learned to trust Snape, and now she found that he was every bit the evil bastard had always seemed. Make that traitorous evil bastard....
"Hold on, Weasley. I can't speak for what Snape knew or didn't know at the time, but I certainly knew no more than the rumors that you or any other student might have heard flying about."
"Then explain what I just saw. Explain to me how the Slytherins had a book - written by Slytherin himself, no less! - with detailed information about the Chamber that they didn't share with anyone over, oh... the last thousand years or so. Explain why Snape didn't think that this was something he needed to share with Dumbledore, so that the damned thing could be dismantled. Tell me!"
"Well, for starters, you don't know that Snape didn't share what he knew, if he knew anything more than the others. I don't know what else is in that text. I had barely made it through the first paragraph myself. And that told me nothing that wasn't in the legend. So, let's have a look, shall we?" She held her hand out for the book, and Ginny reluctantly passed it back to her.
As Pansy's anger subsided, her illness seemed to return. She had settled the book in her lap and tried to continue reading, but she was shivering again, enough so that she was having a difficult time. "There doesn't seem to be anything... concrete... just more of the same stuff from the legend, except here it says something about a "great, avenging serpent" that would purge the school. Look for yourself." She motioned Ginny closer and turned the book so that she could read.
"Here," she pointed out a paragraph to Ginny, "he tells us he isn't going to say where exactly the Chamber is, or how to open it. Didn't trust his own son or anyone else with that, it seems. Apparently, there was a prophecy... told him that his true heir would find it, and that heir alone would be able to speak the words that would open it."
Parseltongue, of course. Ginny had forgotten that bit. You needed to be a parselmouth to open the Chamber, even if you did know where to find it. And it was an extremely rare skill - only two people alive were known to have that ability. She had been lucky that one of them was Harry Potter.
"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."
"Hmph. It's not as though Slytherins aren't used to being suspected of every possible misdeed anyway." Pansy sniffed. "But thank you for at least admitting you were wrong this time."
"So. Do you think there is anything in here that can help us out of our current mess?"
"I'm fairly sure that there should be something. I'm just so... it's hard to focus. I wish I could just hand this off to you. No doubt you'd fare better than I will just now."
"Well, you only need to be holding the book, right? How about if I just read over your shoulder?" Ginny asked. "Maybe it will help us warm up a bit as well. You're shivering again."
Moving behind the other girl, she allowed Pansy to lean against her, while Ginny rested her head on Pansy's shoulder as she read.
After leafing through a few dozen pages, Ginny commented, "He keeps saying that members of his own house are immune to these traps, but that doesn't appear to be the case, does it? How would it know, anyway, what House you're in?"
"Well, the initiation spell, for one..."
"The what?"
"The initiation spell... the one that's placed on you after you're sorted? Ours was done right after we came into the common room for the first time."
"We... Gryffindors don't do that."
"Oh. That's strange. Snape always makes such a fuss over ours, makes everyone attend every year. And it is powerful. I've never felt such a strong sense of belonging..."
"So," Ginny interrupted her, "do you think that's how the castle, these traps rather, are supposed to recognize you?"
"Well, I tried casting a few spells -- initiation supposedly alters your magical signature - but it didn't seem to work. It is something Slytherins use to recognize each other, but I don't know how to make this place recognize me..."
"I wonder if there's anything in here about initiation... maybe..."
Ginny flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for. "Here it is... and it even tells us... oh."
Ginny was stunned by what she had read. Blood magic, therefore most likely Dark magic, was what the Slytherin initiation spell entailed. In order to activate the protective power of that spell, more blood magic was necessary. Pansy would have to perform a Dark spell in order to release them.
"What?"
"This spell. It requires you to spill your blood."
Pansy laughed. "So? That's not so unexpected..."
"Pansy... this is a Dark spell. Are you sure you want to..."
"Don't be absurd, Weasley. Slytherins don't believe in light versus dark. There is only magic. The only difference between one spell and another is in the skill and power of the caster. Any other distinction is a foolish one."
"But... surely you don't just..."
"Yes, just like any other spell. And no one's going to be hurt by this anyway - it's my blood, not yours after all."
She looked determined enough that Ginny did not bother to argue further, although her unease with the spell persisted. This wasn't any ordinary blood magic, this was a spell created by Slytherin himself.
Pansy studied the text a moment longer before looking up. "I'm going to need a sharp knife. Do you think you could conjure one for me?"
She didn't say that she was too weak to manage it herself, although Ginny guessed that was the case. She conjured the knife and handed it to Pansy.
Pansy moved to a kneeling position. She held her hands out over the floor, the knife blade tightly enclosed in the palm of her left hand, and drew a deep breath. Ginny winced as Pansy quickly drew out the knife with her other hand, slicing her palm open.
As the first drops of blood hit the floor, Ginny felt the stones react.
"Serpentigena Sum," Pansy cried out, squeezing her bleeding hand tightly to increase the flow of her blood as she completed the rest of the incantation, "Sanguine Serpentino, Salva Me!"
The walls and floor began to tremble, as though the room itself were moving. Then the floor began to rise, and though it rose much more slowly and smoothly than it had fallen, Pansy lost her balance and fell forward on the floor, catching herself with her uncut hand. Ginny moved torward her with her wand out, and cast first a cleaning and then a healing charm on her injured hand. Pansy smiled her thanks, then gathered up the book in her arms again, looking expectantly at the now-open door that had appeared above them and would be shortly within their reach.
Ginny didn't wait for the room to stop moving. As soon as the exit was accessible, she grabbed Pansy around the waist, hauling her to her feet and out the open door. As they tumbled out into the corridor, Ginny's arm still firmly about Pansy's waist, they heard the door slam shut again behind them. Turning back to look, Ginny found that there was no door at all any longer, only a smooth, blank stone wall.
Taking a better look around, Ginny realized that although they appeared to be still in the dungeons, they were in a different place entirely then where they had entered the trap. They did not appear to be at the base of a tower any longer, as the walls here were perfectly flat. And there were lit torches along this hallway, unlike the neglected area Peeves had led them into.
Pansy let out a sob of relief. "We did it! Oh, Ginny, we did it!" She still had Slytherin's book clutched in her arms, between Ginny's body and her own, but she didn't move away from Ginny's embrace.
Pansy looked like an entirely different person. For once, her perfect hair was disarrayed and damp. It had rebelliously reverted to its natural waviness, freed of the perfectly smooth elegance Pansy usually forced it into. Her normally impeccable clothes were rumpled, Ginny's robes still about her shoulders. The residue of Pansy's tastefully applied makeup had left smudges around her lips and eyes. The perfect porcelain skin of her face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, her normally pale cheeks flushed pink. Perfectly composed features had given way to a look of undisguised relief, joy even. Eyes bright, smiling, lips slightly parted.
She looked a mess. She was the most beautiful thing Ginny had ever seen.
Suddenly possessed by the urge to kiss that lovely mouth, Ginny didn't even try to fight. Leaning forward, she placed a tender kiss on Pansy's lips.
Pansy gave a soft "Oh!" of surprise, her eyes searching Ginny's as Ginny brought one hand up to stroke her cheek. Pansy looked as though she might say more, but Ginny thought another kiss would say more than any words could. This time, Pansy hesitated only a moment before returning the kiss, leaning into Ginny's embrace.
Ginny felt Pansy's lips open slightly as they kissed, tempting her to explore the other girl's mouth. She let her tongue trace Pansy's upper lip, enticing her to let Ginny in. Pansy reacted more strongly to that slight intimacy than Ginny had dared hope; she gasped and let the book drop to the floor, forgotten as she pressed her body intimately against Ginny's, suddenly hungry for contact. She moaned softly into Ginny's mouth as Ginny caressed her soft palate with her tongue.
For a moment, it was the most perfect bliss Ginny had ever experienced.
Then suddenly, Pansy's panic seemed return. She pulled away abruptly from Ginny, stepping back a few paces, attempting to catch her breath.
"We... we'll be missed. We need to be getting back." Her voice attempted to convey a calm that it was all too apparent she didn't feel.
Without waiting for Ginny to answer, she continued briskly, "And we need to get this back to Snape's office before he knows it's gone." She picked the fallen book up off the floor and took a few steps down the corridor, before turning back to look at the stunned Ginny.
"Come on, I know the way. We're near my common room," said Pansy, for all the world as though nothing had just happened. "It's around that corner."
Pansy was shaken, down to her soul, by a kiss from Ginny Weasley.
She had been kissed before. Draco had done so quite a bit a few years ago, before moving on to other girls. Pansy had tried to not to dwell on the fact that he had essentially used her for practice, and that his kisses had lacked a certain amount of passion. She had, after all, enjoyed them at the time. And she had never known any other kind of kiss.
But this... oh, sweet Merlin.
This was nothing like she had ever experienced, or had expected to experience. This wasn't a mere echo of desire, originating from afar and washing over her like ripples on a pond. This came from deep within her, a strong, swelling tide that threatened to drown her if she did not find her bearings.
She needed time to deal with this. She kept walking, despite the fact that what she wanted to do more than anything was to turn around and throw herself into the arms of the girl who was following her.
This wouldn't do, to lose her heart like this. She wasn't free. But a moment ago, just for a moment, she had felt like she was.
Pansy could not handle any of this right now. Her body was still weak from the vomiting and the cold, and she could feel her knees start to give way. She caught herself, bracing against the wall before she fell.
Ginny came over to her, concerned. "You're still ill, Pansy." she said gently. "We need to get you to the hospital wing". She smiled, all full of tender care again, the fire of a moment before dissipating.
"Let me help you. Here." She took the book from Pansy's hands, tucking it under her own arm. Then Ginny moved to support her, taking her elbow with one hand while putting her other arm around Pansy's waist again, so that they were side by side. "We'll only be able to move slowly, but we'll get there."
They had only made it a few steps when Pansy looked up and saw Professor Snape bearing down on them at top speed from the opposite end of the hallway, his black robes billowing about him as he strode.
"Shit!" She heard Ginny exclaim under her breath. Though she liked her Head of House, at the moment Pansy had to concur.
"Miss Weasley. Miss Parkinson. Half the castle has been up all night searching for you. Would you care to explain yourselves?"
Snape leaned forward and plucked Slytherin's book out from underneath Ginny's arm. "You may begin, Miss Weasley, by explaining how this came to be in your possession."
Almost without thinking, Pansy answered for her. "It's my fault, Professor. I took the book from your desk."
Both Snape and Ginny turned to look at her in surprise. Please Ginny, just play along.
"Explain," said Snape harshly.
Pansy took a deep breath. "Well sir, I was feeling ill and was on my way to the infirmary when I heard someone shouting for help. It was Weasley, and when she described where she was... I knew that the book might help. I couldn't find you, so I took it from your office and went to help her myself." She heard herself spin the lie, observing Snape closely as she spoke. He didn't believe her. That didn't mean that he would not accept the explanation, however, at least in front of Ginny.
Snape's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening. There was a tense moment before he said, "I see."
Turning back to Ginny, Snape continued. "There is still the matter of why you were out of Gryffindor Tower after hours in the first place."
Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Snape put his hand up to indicate that she should remain silent. "I'm sure your story is fascinating, Miss Weasley. However, it shall have to wait for Monday evening at six, when you shall serve detention with me. For the time being, twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of bounds will have to suffice. Miss Parkinson is clearly ill, and will need to be taken to the hospital wing."
"I can walk her there, Professor. It's on the way...."
"I will escort Miss Parkinson to the hospital wing," said Snape, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. "You will return to your dormitory immediately. Professor McGonagall will no doubt want a word with you." He moved to Pansy's other side and put his hands on her shoulders to support her.
Ginny had not let go of Pansy's arm, and was still looking at her with concern.
"Now, Miss Weasley," Snape growled, "or I shall be obliged to deduct further points from Gryffindor for your disobedience."
Pansy gave Ginny a small smile and a nod to indicate that she'd be all right.
Ginny nodded in return, then turned and walked briskly toward Gryffindor Tower, briefly looking over her shoulder as she began to mount the stairs.
She was barely out of sight when Pansy's vision began to blur again, and she felt herself sway dangerously. Snape caught her around the waist, drawing her toward him before she could fall.
"Steady, Miss Parkinson," Snape said gently, setting her back on her feet for just a moment before proceeding to lift her up into his arms. Pansy gratefully leaned her head against him, holding on as tightly to his thin shoulders as she could manage, even though his arms cradled her to him securely. He walked briskly toward the infirmary, seemingly unhampered by carrying her weight up the endless flights of stairs.
When they reached the hospital wing, Snape set Pansy down on the nearest bed. With a flick of his wand, he removed her shoes, and then lifted the coverlet that had been neatly folded at the foot of the bed, tucking it in about her shoulders before going to find Madame Pomfrey. Pansy had begun to shiver again the moment she had left the warmth of Snape's body. She curled into a tight ball underneath the coverlet, trying to warm up.
After a moment, Pomfrey came hurrying over, with Snape in her wake. Snape remained at the foot of the bed, watching like a sentinel as Pomfrey worked her over.
"I'm going to keep Miss Parkinson here for today, Professor, until her readings are back to normal." When Snape remained where he was, Pomfrey made another attempt to shoo him away. "I'll keep you apprised of her condition, Severus. We should leave the girl to her rest now, I think."
"In a moment. I want a word with Miss Parkinson."
"Professor Snape. This girl is ill and needs her rest. I must insist..."
"I'm afraid I must insist, Madame. This girl was out of bounds, after hours, under questionable circumstances. She is in my charge, and I have every right to interrogate her regarding her actions. And I will not leave until I have a satisfactory explanation." He was ostensibly speaking to Madame Pomfrey, but Snape had continued to glare at Pansy. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, waiting expectantly for her to begin speaking.
Pansy opened her mouth, but as her throat was terribly dry and tight, she only managed to begin a small coughing fit.
Pomfrey clucked her tongue and patted Pansy gently on the back and handed her a glass of water from the bedside table."You see? You're upsetting the poor girl."
Pansy took a quick sip of the water and cut in before Snape really lost his temper. "Please, Madam Pomfrey. It's all right. I'd like to talk to Professor Snape now, if it's all the same." When Pomfrey seemed a bit nonplussed by this, Pansy added, "I'll sleep better if I just get this over with."
Pomfrey pursed her lips as though she were about to argue, but then simply walked back toward her office with a disapproving "Hmph!" as she brushed past Snape.
Pansy waited for him to begin. She didn't know how much he knew, and she knew better than to give him more information than she absolutely had to.
But she didn't expect him to ask the question he did. "What is between you and Miss Weasley?"
"N-nothing sir. Nothing at all," Pansy stammered, completely thrown by his query. Snape had an unnerving ability to read students' minds, but this was uncanny. Had he actually seen what happened with Ginny?
"You lied to me to protect her. Why?"
Ah, that was it. At least this was something she might be able to work with.
Why indeed. She had done it without thinking. Protecting Ginny had seemed the most natural thing in the world. But her feelings about her were not something Snape was likely to understand, even if she could have explained them to him, or to herself for that matter.
"I'm waiting, Miss Parkinson. I know that you were trapped in that room with Miss Weasley, and I know that she took the book from my office. I will deal with her later. But I want you to tell me why you are trying to protect her."
She decided to give him a reason he was likely to condone. For Snape was certainly not opposed to lying, or even being lied to on occasion, if he found the reasons acceptable.
"Weasley... she... When I knew we were trapped, I panicked. Then I became ill. It was horrible and she... she took care of me. I owed her."
"So you were merely settling the score?" Snape asked skeptically. "Nothing more to it than that?"
What had he inferred? "I'm not sure I know what you're asking me, sir."
"I am asking why you suddenly feel beholden to a girl - and a Gryffindor at that - about whom you had not previously cared one jot. Surely you are aware that as a prefect, Miss Weasley did no more than she was obliged to in tending to your illness."
"She didn't just dutifully care for a sick classmate. I know you've told us never to show weakness... but I was so sick, and I simply couldn't help it. And she didn't take the advantage, didn't even try. On the contrary. She was actually kind to me... more than I had any right to expect. I needed her, and she was there for me."
Snape snorted. "She is a Gryffindor. They do so love to play the hero."
"It wasn't like that!"
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, sir. I just meant that she wasn't... arrogant about it in the way her kind usually are. Didn't expect thanks. She just did it. So yes, I suppose I do feel kindness toward her in return."
Snape sighed. "It just had to be a Weasley," he said cryptically.
"Sir?"
"Miss Parkinson -- Pansy. I don't need to remind you of who you are, and what is at stake. It should therefore come as no surprise that I must advise caution in your dealings with Miss Weasley," he said softly, almost gently.
Snape paused, studying Pansy's face carefully for a moment before he continued. "I am not saying that you may not pursue a... friendship with the girl, if that is your intention. But the utmost discretion is called for. And I would remind you that Gryffindors are notoriously bad at practicing discretion."
~~**~~
It was one of those dreams in which you are almost aware that you are dreaming.
Pansy found herself kissing Ginny again, open-mouthed and hungry, as she had been earlier. Except this time she was lying prone and Ginny was moving over her. Pansy could not see her body clearly, but she somehow knew Ginny was naked. Ginny's hands seemed to be everywhere, touching, teasing, but never quite fulfilling their promise.
Pansy wanted to press her breast into Ginny's hand. She wanted to move her hips, grind them against the other girl. She wanted to move her own hands, to touch Ginny, to bring her to a similar state of arousal; to touch herself, to relieve the nearly unbearable pressure that had built up between her legs. She could feel the thick pulse there, deep within her own slick heat. She was just the slightest bit of stimulation away from coming, yet she could not move, could not even speak, to beg it of Ginny.
As though Ginny's dream-self understood her desire, she moved her mouth away from Pansy's, first trailing down Pansy's neck, then moving to her breasts, tongue flicking lightly over the hard, sensitized nipples. Pausing only briefly to tease her there, seeming to know she needed more, Ginny moved further down, planting soft kisses along the soft curve of Pansy's belly while her hands caressed the insides of her thighs. Pansy's whole world seemed to narrow, focused on the craving in her sex for the girl who had brought her to this peak of arousal, the girl who smiled with mischief and asked Pansy what she wanted next.
Near-mad with the need for completion, Pansy still could not speak, but instead called out her need with all her being. Please...
Somehow, that word seemed to have made it to her throat. Just as she realized that, Ginny's image seemed to blur, and the light seemed to change in quality.
Pansy opened her eyes to a haziness that made it unclear whether she had actually awakened, or whether she was still in the dream. She was more confused as Ginny's image appeared in the center of that haze, standing over her.
Pansy made another attempt at speech. "Ginny," she managed, then shook her head to clear it. Then she registered that this Ginny was fully clothed. Awake, then.
"I came to see how you were feeling. I worried when I didn't see you at supper."
Supper? What time was it? Pansy struggled to sit up. As she did, she had to hold back from gasping as the shift in position heightened the near-unbearable arousal that still had a vise-grip on her body. She was grateful for the blankets that shielded her from Ginny.
Ginny sat down on the bed, her outer thigh brushing Pansy's, sending small shock waves through Pansy's body that seemed to culminate in her aching groin.
Ginny, oblivious to Pansy's torment, hesitated a moment before she spoke. "Pansy... we need to talk. About what happened."
Oh gods. Not now. Pansy didn't want to talk about this just yet. Not while her body was still heavy with desire for this girl, not before she'd had a chance to think about all of this. Not while she was still at a disadvantage.
Pansy did her best to resume her cool demeanor; half-hoping Ginny would take the hint and leave, half-hoping that Ginny would charge ahead, taking Pansy where she feared to go.
She should have known which path Ginny Weasley would choose.
"Ginny. I... appreciate you stopping by. And everything you did to help me last night, truly. But I'm afraid that I'm just too exhausted to chat with you right now."
"I did not come here for a chat, Parkinson. What happened last night did not make us talking buddies. I'm here to figure out what it did make us." Ginny took a steadying breath, laying her hand gently over Pansy's.
"We kissed, Pansy. You can tell me that you didn't like it, that you don't like me, that it disgusted you. I probably won't believe you if you do, but say it if you feel you must. But I need you to say something. Because you should know that I'm not prepared to simply forget that it happened." Ginny spoke with a passion, her dark eyes intense.
And suddenly, caution was the last thing on Pansy's mind.
TBC
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A/N: Serpentigena Sum Sanguine Serpentino, Salva Me! Loosely translates as 'I am Serpent-born; Blood of the Serpent, save me!'
Thanks to Pigwidgeon37 for assistance with the Latin. (The lovely, alliterative Latin she cobbled together for me from my choppy, if syntactically correct phrases. The inelegant translation is mine.)