Chapter 10

After Harry, the Aurors went in, so I waited my turn.

Finally, hours later, I was allowed in. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. For the first time since I met him, Severus looked weak and sick, but he was alive! He was going to be okay! I had gone from my lowest point to a whole new high. "Severus," I whispered.

"Miss Weasley," he greeted. There was no warmth in his voice and his eyes didn't move.

I stepped back, suddenly fearful to get too close. I was somehow filled with a fear of hurting him. "I was so worried! Thank Merlin…" I could hear the relief in my own voice. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his chest to hear his voice vibrating as he spoke.

"I did my job. I no longer need to protect you, so go live your life with Potter," he nearly spat at me, then he turned his back to me.

"Severus?" I questioned.

"Get out of my sight, Miss Weasley!" He sounded so final, so cold, so uncaring… like the time we had spent meant nothing to him! I heard in my mind again when he had called out for her; 'Lily.' I, at the same time, recalled the night we agreed that if we lost the war, he would indeed marry me, and how he wasn't worried about finding love because he had one. From the coldness in his voice, I knew there was no changing his mind. I slowly backed away. I felt so used, like a piece of meat. I recalled his words as to how I would hate him for what happened between us. I left the ward, tears falling as I went. I hated myself for building up sex and tenderness into the belief of love! I was a stupid little girl.

I spent time after that grieving for those I lost. I waited, hoping he would contact me, but he never did. I gave testimony for him, but he never, even once, looked at me. I never told anyone that we had an affair. I sat there hearing time and time again how Severus loved Lily Evans Potter his whole life and hating her the whole time. If he loved her so much, even in these last few months, then I was just something that gave him pleasure and nothing more. It hurt me deeply; deeper than anything I had ever experienced before, which made me realize that somehow, at some point, I had fallen for him. I didn't even understand how.

I waited for him for months, but when he was cleared by the courts, he disappeared. I felt numb. No, I didn't feel numb; I was numb. I felt nothing. So much so that I never even noticed everyone pushing me into Harry's arms. I acted as if on autopilot. Just going through the motions of living. I didn't even make my own choices. If someone told me I looked good in something, I wore it. When Harry proposed, I knew it was coming. Everyone told me I should be happy and how this was what I had dreamed of. I went with it because I didn't know what else to do. Perhaps I was happy and just couldn't feel it.

The worst part of it all was no one saw it. Not my parents, not my brothers, nor my friends. Not a single soul saw that an inferi had more soul and personality than I did. Mentally, Ginny Weasley was still there, but it was like I was locked in a cell. I knew I should stand up for myself and make my wishes known. I was screaming on the inside, but no one seemed to notice or care.

The few times I tried to say what I wanted or needed, nothing happened. Either people had become accustomed to me going with the flow, or they didn't care. It didn't bother me if Ron, Hermione, and Harry went off on their own.

Over a year later, I was with my fiance at a function. I looked the part I was playing; I was in an enormous gold ball gown that made me literally look like a bell. I hated the dress, but it's the right dress; a dress befitting the woman who will be Harry Potter's wife. Harry handed me a glass of punch, but I would have killed for something with alcohol. I smiled sweetly at him. "Harry, this is Mr. Downings," someone says. I know this is going to be another mind- numbing chat.

"Ginny dear, come over here with us and tell us about the wedding plans." My sister-in-law pulled me over to talk with a group of former school mates. I welcomed the break from hearing how amazing Harry is.

"Details! Give us all the details!" Padma Patil pushed.

"Three months from today, Harry and I will be wed. There are nearly four hundred people coming, as you all know."

"What colour will your maids be wearing?" Katie Bell asked.

"Green, like Harry's eyes," I stated. I had very little say in the wedding, as everyone else seemed to insist on doing what was expected. After a few minutes, I grew tired of the same conversation I had had for the last three months, so I escaped the girls and made my way out to a terrace for some fresh air. I walked over to the railing and rested my hands on it, taking a deep breath to soothe myself. I felt like I was screaming in a room full of people, but no one seemed to hear or care. "You don't look like a young woman whose dreams are about to come true," said a lazy drawl from the shadows.

"Huh?" I slipped. "How should I look?" I asked the unseen voice as I looked over to where it came from.

He stepped out of the shadows. His long, white-blond hair hung around his shoulders. "Happy, bouncy; not like you're with a Dementor." He held out a flask towards me. "Care for something stronger than the punch you have been offered all night?"

Lucius Malfoy was my great savior tonight! I took it from him and took a greedy swig of the Firewhiskey. "Thank you. I needed that." I offer it back and he takes a sip. "How did you know I needed that?"

He smiled at me. "In my life, I have seen many women like you marrying who they are expected to, but hating it all the while."

"I don't hate it…"

"It's just not what you want," he concluded.

"I should be happy about it," I admitted. I did feel like I should be happy. I dreamt of marrying Harry for so long.

"So why aren't you?" he asked and handed the flask back to me.

I took a smaller sip. "Harry's nice enough, but he doesn't excite me." Harry didn't make me feel alive, not like I was before the war ended.

I could tell his interest was peaked. "Have you ever been truly excited?"

I was baffled by our chat. This was Lucius Malfoy, but at the same time it seemed he would be one of the few people I could speak my real feelings to; the only person in a long time who seemed to give a damn about what I was feeling. I took another sip before replying, "Yes, at one time there was someone."

"Where are they now?" he asked.

"I don't know. Not that it matters; it was simply a matter of pleasure at the time." I handed the flask back to him.

"And Potter lacks the skills to give you that pleasure?" he guessed.

I smirked at him. "It's not in him to be that way."

"Have you asked for, or shown him what you need?"

I realised just how personal this chat had become, so because of who I'm having it with, I grabbed the flask again and took another gulp. "I'm going to finish this on you," I warned.

He shook his head. "It's charmed to refill."

I take another sip. "I have, but he doesn't get it."

"Might I be bold and ask what it is you need?"

My eyes bugged out that he would ask, and that I'm about to answer. "I like things on the rougher side, much more than Harry is capable of."

He nods. "Ah, the same reason the boy couldn't cast an Unforgivable is the same reason he can't give you an orgasm."

I turned away, slightly embarrassed at what I just admitted to, and who I admitted it to. Then I felt him behind me. He bowed his head down so his lips were next to my ear. "I could give you that pleasure. Right here, right now! I could pull up the front of your dress, push your panties aside, and make you cum all over my fingers with a ballroom full of people not fifty feet away." I saw his hands on either side of the railing, trapping me. I felt myself get wet at the idea. I felt excited about something for the first time in... forever. He continued, "But I know how strong this Firewhiskey is. I tell you what; if you truly need to be fucked hard and rough, come to me in two nights' time. Come to my Manor. I promise you a night you will never forget, but I should warn you; you might be bruised after." He ran his hands up my arms, slightly digging his nails in as if it was a sample. "Keep the flask; it will help you tolerate the rest of the evening. The safe word is 'puppy.'" Then he was gone in a flash.

A/N Tell me what you think!