The Blood of A Virgin
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Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. Beta-Read by Catia Royce.
Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?
***
He wrapped his arms around her neck forcefully, and she struggled underneath him. He grinned through her mouth - he loved the struggle, the squirming. It was sick, it was demented, but he loved it. She couldn't get away - the innocent little girl...
"Stop it," she whispered. "You don't want to do this. You know you don't."
He had let her be pulled away. She was staring at him, her hair tangled into a mess, blood dripping from her lips, her face unreadable, but the cold determination in her eyes.
Those words reached him, and he stared blankly at her for several moments, then shook himself, realization striking him: what was he doing? He had no control over himself at all. She waited patiently for his response.
He gave none. Courage fled him. Turning around, he began to walk quickly away, breaking into a run.
***
"How do your parents act toward it?"
"Father doesn't pay attention, he just wants me to become a Death Eater. He says that this is good for me; that it'll make me more stronger," Draco answered bitterly.
"And your mother?"
"She's repulsed. She doesn't even touch me anymore - she only speaks when she has to, does what she has to, and hardly does anything else."
"What do you think made it happen? Why did it happen, Draco? Draco? What is it?"
"I don't know," Draco lied, although knowing all too well.
***
"Twelve. That's the age where I learned how to go into people's minds."
"What is it like? Does your inner-eye disturb you?"
"It's sort of like a three-way dimension, but I keep it in my mind so it doesn't get into my words. And I hide it - I've always been a good actress," Ginny said, smiling a bit.
"Twelve you say..."
"Yes."
"And how did you learn it?"
Ginny fell into complete silence.
"Ginny?"
"I don't know," she lied.
Also knowing all too well.
***
Ginny Weasley arrived into the common room suspiciously late. She had been outside the portrait hole for quite some time, debating on whether or not to faint or go inside and forget about it. But forgetting about it was hard to do. She went inside, and was relieved to see it was deserted. Lugging one of the armchairs by one of the windows, she was delighted to see that it was raining. Rain always intrigued her; the fresh, grass smell afterwards, and the pouring droplets never left her bored. She would sit hours by the window, reading or just watching silently.
She shivered, looking over her shoulder every so often. After her frightening encounter with Draco, she did not want to relive another breathtaking experience. She closed her eyes, and opened them again, admiring the ripples that splattered against the windowpane. Opening it, she let her hand out, and water rinsed through it quickly.
It reminded her too much of that one rainy day that had changed her life.
Don't think about it, just watch the rain, her mind prompted, scolding her for her sensitivity. But she couldn't help it. It reminded her so much of that day.
Her mind was sharp and clear at the memory. She had turned twelve over the summer, and was wishing that summer would never end. She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, where pitiless studies surrounded her, and where people hardly noticed her, although she had a few friends here and there.
"It's raining! Oh, heavens, it's raining! Ginny, come look!" Mrs. Weasley had cried out in astonishment, which led Ginny to stumble down the stairs, sure that her mother was lying. And yet, it was raining, right outside.
"In this heated summer! Can you believe it? What in the world?" her mother kept saying. Ginny paid no such attention. She looked longingly out the window.
"Mother - please can I..."
"No," her mother said firmly.
"But mother! It's summer! I just want to see it! I promise I'll come back!"
"It's almost lunchtime," her mother tried to protest, but Ginny frowned so poutingly that she gave in. Ginny sprinted off outside, feeling more alive than ever. Her worries and troubles left her - her worry about Harry coming to stay next summer, her worries about her mother almost finding about the visions she had when she was eight.
She was free. She stood in front of the Burrow, letting the rain pour on her, taint through her clothes, making them transparent. Her hair was straight now, curls gone, wet and drenched on her shoulders. And then, a sudden stab went into her stomach.
Ginny clutched it, flinching. What was going on? she had thought.
A vision came into her mind. A vision. Something was terribly wrong...she could see a vision of a boy, laying, shaking uncontrollably. She could see a blonde woman's disgusted face - she could hear someone's laughter - then - slowly, a melody was rising in her ears, ringing against her eardrums.
Kath- Kath - Kath, someone had hissed. The only vision she saw was glowering eyes before she found herself on the ground, as if she had been asleep for many years.
When she returned to the Burrow, the changes had bluntly appeared to her. Not only did she have the visions of a true Seer, she could read people's thoughts whenever she wanted to - at first it seemed a bit fun, as if she had the higher advantage.
But as years progressed on, she knew it was a curse - raw, morbid, and distasteful. It was a disease - a virus that ran through her veins, that cruised through her blood - and she had it.
***
When he rushed into his Prefect's dorm, he heard the scatter of raindrops.
His heartbeat stopped. Rain. How long had it been since the last rainfall? Four years, tops, perhaps?
The last rainfall he could remember, anyway. He never paid attention to the weather before, but now this rain was familiar. It sounded the same, felt the same just like when he was thirteen.
Thirteen. The word sounded so foreign, so distant to him now. Yet he knew it so well. It was the day. It was the only day he had ever seen that rained in summer.
He was upstairs, in his room. Like he had told him, he had truthfully received his first sense when he was thirteen. But nobody knew why.
Only him.
It was the day he met Katherine. People who knew his 'psychological' basis, assumed he had met Katherine when he had sensed her.
But it wasn't true. Not true at all. On his thirteenth birthday, he had met her in the dinner party. And then, months after that, that summer..., the day after it rained...
He was drunk, he knew that. She was drunk too. They woke up in the morning naked, in bed together. And Draco knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life. But he couldn't get enough - the day he had deflowered himself and another virgin girl was when his obsession began - he couldn't help it - Kath had told him to stay away from her; but he never listened, he watched her every movement. And the second time they had sex, he had forced it on her.
His obsession grew stronger, and this was how he had lost part of his sanity.
And yet, there was one piece missing. Katherine wasn't his first sense.
So, who was?
It was that day, the morning it was raining. He was sitting in bed, thinking about Katherine and him getting together tomorrow. And then, a pain like a thousand knives that thawed through his chest, a burning sensation. His eyes were fluttered closed.
He was in a dark haven. He was feeling his way by touching the walls.
He could smell it - the copper smell of blood. He could even taste it. It was pure.
And she lay, a small, figure, and he bent down, to devour her sweetness...
Draco had been shaking when he woke up. Sweat was pouring down his neck and watered his shirt.
And odd, how the raining had stopped.
Also strange, that the fact of knowing always rang in his mind, but he never confronted it; never wanted to admit it. The girl that seemed to have started his obsession to begin with was Katherine - but the girl in the floor, who he wanted the most - it was a connection - it felt just like one.
His thoughts were interrupted by the realization that it was still raining. Looking away from the window, he slid into his covers, which were always cold, and sank his head into the pillows, not being able to get the picture out of his mind.
***
Proof that this isn't a smut fic. BTW, I know I sort of didn't mention Ginny's events with Riddle - let's pretend that didn't happen for this fic. Also, when Ginny was having her first vision, she was seeing the future, so don't think I made a mistake by changing dates and stuff. I am so sorry if this is confusing, this is really confusing for me too, lol! Thanks for all the reviews!!! :D
Remember to review,
Love,
-S.A. Court