Phobic

Author's Note: Thank you to my über-kind reviewers…you truly have no idea how much I value your positive response to my work…

Disclaimer: I do not look like J.K. Rowling. I do not sound like J.K. Rowling. I do not smell like J.K. Rowling. I do not taste like J.K. Rowling. And finally, as I am not a multi-millionaire with thousands of corny offspring merchandaise products from her bestselling books, I certainly do not and will never FEEL like J.K. Rowling, so please note that I am not her, so I didn't write the original books, but now I am simply taking advantage of my rights as a fanfiction author and writing a small piece!!! Take away the pesky lawyers!

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Chapter two: Insomnia

It was nearing two AM and Angelina couldn't sleep. Rest evaded her. She looked to the opposite side of the Great Hall where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were obviously discussing the prior events, despite how cunning and secretive they attempted to be. Teachers came in every so often to check to see that all was in order. But apart from fragmented whispers, Angelina was alone in a great quiet.

'Whore. Slut. Maybe you deserved every moment of the agony.'

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous Christmas break when she had stayed at Hogwarts, seemingly uneventfully.

Flashback

"Angelina, come out. I know you're in there. You can't hide forever." His cold, menacing voice chilled her to the core. Madame Pince had left the library for the night and Angelina was left cowering alone under the desk.

"You can't escape me, Johnson," Flint spoke as he began an in depth search of the library for his victim. He brandished his wand sharply as he hexed all the doors locked.

"You're alone with me. There's no one to save you now."

Angelina's eyes dared frantically around the dark library, desperately hoping that this was a nightmare, but as her stomach tightened around the ball of fear inside of her, she knew that it wasn't.

A scream halted in her constricted throat as Marcus pounced, pinning her struggling body beneath his.

"You're mine now." His voice came upon her like a death sentence. Half terror possessed, Angelina clawed at his looming face like a wild animal, but in her panic, no sounds would come. She was stifled by horror.

"Bitch! Stay down!" a stinging blow was delivered to the right side of her face.

"C'mon, it's not like you haven't wanted it, begged for it, Johnson, you slut." With one hand he held down her wrists, with the other he unfastened his trousers. He knelt on her torso to keep her subdued beneath his weight.

'Maybe it's not worth the fight.' Angelina thought in despair as she gave up the battle and let him come over her. Use her. Violate her.

End of flashback

'I need to bleed.'

Angelina felt around the hem of her sleeves for the pin holding them together that had so many times unintentionally stabbed her. Only this time, she wanted to be hurt.

With less caution and more urgency, Angelina pushed the tip of the pin under her skin, driving into her veins. She then pulled her tool up viciously, ripping the flesh, and leaving a crimson line on her arm. Taking a step further, she made another strike going the opposite direction, resulting in a red 'X' dripping into her sleeping bag. This time, she didn't feel faint. She felt more in control than she had ever been.

"Oh, Angelina." Fred's concerned voice startled her as it dawned upon her that he had been watching. He was wise to her blood game.

"I—I—" she began, whispering, as he knelt beside her and cradled her bleeding arm in his hands, like a wounded bird. Slowly, tenderly, Fred bent his head down and softly kissed her marks, staining his lips with her blood.

"Don't say anything. You don't have to explain. I've always known, Ange. I was outside the library that day, but the doors wouldn't budge. I heard him force himself on you and I stood by, helplessly abandoning you. It kills me to see you take it out on yourself." Fred then eased in next to her inside her sleeping bag, holding her trembling body close to his chest as Angelina wept silent, burning tears. The first she had cried in too long.

He gently allowed his fingers to caress the warm skin on her back, as it sent shock waves through his body, every nerve in his form standing alerted. Slowly, carefully, Fred moved his lips to brush against the soft hair resting on the crown of her head. Moving lower, he began to kiss her forehead, her eyelids, her earlobes, and finally her more than accepting lips. It was soft, warm, tender and everything a first kiss should be. Their second was much less soft, more insistent, more ardent, as though it was critical that their tongues be intertwined, or else their hearts would beat out of their ribcages.

"I want to know you intimately, Angelina. I don't mean solely in a sexual way, but in a way that no one has ever known you. I want to know you more than God himself does. I want us to come to each other completely pure. Untainted. Spotless of any blemish or guilt. I know your pain, Angelina, and it is truly beautiful. Captivating. Your eyes hold such a knowledge of hurting that to look into them makes me die inside. I want to be inside you in a very profound way. Yes, I want to know your body, but also more about that stunning pain you hold to your heart and can't let go of. I want to share that pain." Painstakingly, Fred began to remove his night robes. Once he had rid himself of his own, he let his hands roam over Angelina's inviting body, easing her robes over her head in the most sensual way imaginable.

"Fred, I want you. I want your touch. I want you to come to me as you. Completely genuine, open and naked. I want you to take off your ring, I want you to take off that cord around your neck. Then I want you to take out my earrings, my jewellery and any other superficial ornaments that will detract from us. But at the same time, I'm altogether scared. I know exactly what I want, but I am so afraid to lose it." without words, Fred started to do exactly as Angelina had asked him and they came to each other. Open. Genuine. Naked.

Angelina fell asleep in their warm afterglow, the best sleep she had experienced since childhood. Sensing that the discovery of their new relationship would not go over easily with a Great Hall full of house mates, Fred slipped out of the sleeping bag, quietly put his robes back onto his love-worn body and swept her slightly open mouth with a light kiss so as not to wake her.

In the morning, Angelina awoke to see that her long desired lover was gone. Left the Great Hall. Too tired to look more extensively, she simply basked in the warm luminosity of her sexual and emotional encounter.

It wasn't until breakfast that Angelina caught sight of Fred, hunched over his coffee and rolls, and clearly, deliberately not making eye contact with her. He left the Great Hall before the others, mumbling excuses about needing to work on his homework. It was only then that she realized that she had been cheapened again. She had been lied to, she had been taken advantage of, she had been used, and worse still, she had bared her soul and been forsaken. Again.

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A.N. So…how was it???? What'll happen in the final instalment of this story? Has Fred really abandoned Angelina? Was he just in it for the physical pleasure??? Leave me a review and tell me what you think!