Debauchery

Distance

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning: Shoujo ai.

Thanks:

Bi-Chick, Lady Felton1, Kazutaka Muraki

Author's Note: Yay! I'm ba-ack! Woohoo. Yep. Summer is coming up soon and I have a bit more time. Hehe. Well, I should do this big ass Notebook Portfolio thing but… meh. I'm sure I'll do fine. This is long enough. Story time!

000

The newly inflicted slash across my arm begins to sting. The unpredicted barrage of pain makes me grimace and drop a vile of dark potion. A curse slips from my mouth before I can think.

"Ms. Weasely, please remember that we are to be extremely careful with our potions." Snape snarls cynically. "Fifty points from Griffyndor."

I nod. I barely understand what the bloody bastard just said, and I could care less. I pick up my wand and clean up the bubbling mess. I guess I'll have to start from scratch. Finding the correct ingredients my mind wanders as I begin to measure the accurate amount of some thing or other. Someone grabs my arm lightly. The slight pressure makes me flinch. "Gin, you're bleeding."

I look at the small trickle of blood without surprise. Or shock. Or awe. It's just a cut. "Must've happened when I dropped the vile."

"Ms. Weasely. Ms. Smith. Refrain from mindless chitchat. You both have a potion to remake. I suggest you do so."

"But professor-"

"Yes." His beady black eyes penetrate the short blonde, "Ms. Smith."

The blonde seems to look away frantically, "Ginny, she, er… she got hurt. The potion…"

"I think Ms. Weasely is capable of speech."

I watch this little control spat Snape is having so much fun with. It's disgusting yet oddly intriguing. To have that sort of power over someone, to make them cower in your wake. To have control over the situation. It was an appealing thing.

His glare shifts to me.

000

There was a mild sting circulating throughout her arm. Instead of going to the infirmary as Snape had instructed, Ginny made her way towards the nearest lavatories. There was a small tapping sound coming from behind her. She turned… nothing there. But the impending feeling of someone following her kept her cautious.

The red head opened the door slowly, making sure there wasn't another person using the lavatories, before she took out her wand and put a locking charm on the door. Assuring her some much needed alone time.

For a moment Ginny just stood staring into the mirror. Into the all too clear image of a gaunt young woman. Into the hollow eyes of a complete stranger. She pinned every imperfection, every small obscurity that made her want to look away from the frowning image. Her hand gained a life of its own, moving to her chin and fingering the almost invisible scar there. Every imperfection had a story behind it. A memory. A truth and a lie. Her fingers moved lightly across her all too pale skin, to the small freckles across her cheeks.

No matter how much she tried to recognize this almost womanly figure in the mirror she couldn't. The eyes of the young woman before her seemed a bit too dull; there was a saddening wisdom about them. Her cheeks were to thin, too sharp and edgy to be that of a child. The edges of her lips seemed to sink with the weight of too many lies.

It wasn't until a sharp nail made its way up along the side of her thigh did she notice the person standing behind her. Blue eyes turned bitter and the corners of her mouth seemed to fall even deeper. Still, she didn't bother to slap the intruder's hand away. The sharp scratching of the nail continued to send pleasurably unpleasant tingles up and down along her side.

"What do you want?" The red head kept her eyes on the mirror, watching the intruder's smirking green eyes.

There were no words just the movement of the hand against her thigh moving higher, un-tucking her shirt, slipping beneath the thin worn out fabric. Still she didn't move, didn't look away from those laughing eyes. Those eyes that think they own her. And maybe they do, maybe she's just a puppet. Maybe she is just a puppet again.

"Don't." Her voice was just a whisper. Just a far away cry.

The hand moved slowly over the soft flesh of her stomach. Rubbing smooth circles against the red head's taunt stomach. The eyes in the mirror never took their gaze away; they burned into her, burned through her. Ginny didn't want to look away, did't want to lose the small spat for control. But she knew she was losing, she knew she'd lose. Those menacing green eyes knew she'd lose. She always had.

Lips pressed lightly against her now bare shoulder. The eyes never left her own. She tried to think but her mind was too clouded, to twisted and manipulated by the jumping nerves of her overly sensitive body.

The alluring eyes trapped her, entranced her, drew her even further into the clouded abyss. Using a strong amount of pleasure and control. Making her mind go from extremely clear to a foggy scattered mist. Making her body twitch, her breathing shallow, her voice lost. Control lost.

Dull blue eyes shifted. Ginny stared at the dry trickle of blood on her arm. She couldn't bear to look back at those laughing eyes. The sound of a raspy laugh and the feel of warm sweet smelling breath against her neck was enough.

000

Author's Note: Holy crap. That's pretty short but… meh. Whatever. I need to go work on my portfolio for reals now. Haha.