Third Year, Part Three
With a feeling almost like she walking to her own execution, Ginny headed towards the sixth floor.
Terrence, as he'd said to call him, had told her to meet him down the third corridor on the left, just in front of the painting of a landscape opposite a suit of armour.
'What if he wants to-to do it with me?' She thought, her heart pounding harder and louder with every step she took.
'Then you'll do it. Unless you want him to go to Dumbledore, you'll do whatever he asks.'
She shuddered, her breath catching for a moment.
That thought of being turned in to the Headmaster was far more terrifying than her worries about what she'd have to do to avoid it. She could hear it clearly in her mind, Dumbledore's disappointed voice as he said that she must not have told them the truth, that she must have still been thinking about Tom. She could hear the sound that her wand would make as it was snapped.
She could hear her mother's soft sobs, see her parents' distraught expressions.
There wouldn't be any way to hide what had been going on in her mind for the last year, not if Terrence turned her in. She knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't be able to manage it, not if they asked her directly.
She'd been stupid, and now she would pay the price.
Whatever it was.
The tapers were beginning to dim, the dying candlelight casting strange shadows ahead of her.
She should have been in bed, like her roommates were. Like any normal student was.
But she'd been stupid.
She saw the suit of armour standing in a small crevice opposite a large painting and her mouth went dry.
'Where is he?' She thought, looking around wildly, 'was this all his idea of a joke?'
She stepped closer to the wall, examining the picture.
It stretched from the ceiling to the floor, hanging in a gilt frame. It showed a grassy field with three enormous boulders in the background, all painted in dull, earthy colours.
"Found it all right, eh?"
She spun around, hand flying to her mouth, a scream trapped in her throat.
"You'll be able to do Disillusionment Charms too, one day," Terrence said, stepping out from beside the armour, "If you don't get kicked out, of course."
The stone wall rubbed against her back. She'd instinctively moved away from him without even realizing it.
"Relax," he said, an easy smile stretching his lips, "just relax."
She flinched as he moved toward her, his wand in his hand.
"Just relax. Merlin, you'd think I've forced you to be here."
He raised his wand, and with a significant look at her, tapped the middle boulder three times.
The painting swung forward.
"Well? Come on in."
She followed him, stopping the second she had entered the room, her breath catching again.
It was beautiful.
It was a lot bigger than her own dorm room, and she noticed a small doorway leading into what looked like a bathroom. The room itself had a thick, shaggy carpet, and the walls were covered in beautiful tapestries.
There was a four-poster bed near the wall, easily three times bigger than those in her room.
The large fireplace stood empty and cold, but the candles mounted to the wall above it were lit.
The desk in the middle of the room was covered; bottles, some empty, some full of ale and whiskey were scattered around it, cigarette butts and what looked like piles of used pipe tobacco had been pushed into small mounds, and magazines with brightly coloured moving pictures lay haphazardly open.
"So? Like my little hideout?"
"It's amazing," she said honestly, "what is this place?"
"Who knows?" He murmured, "Maybe it was once a teacher's quarters, or maybe there really were married students here, once upon a time. All that matters now is that it's mine."
She took a step toward the table, blushing furiously as she caught sight of one of the pictures in the magazine.
Her gorge rose as she suddenly came back to earth and remembered where she was.
'That's what he wants, he wants to-to-'
"Take off your clothes," he said.
She looked up sharply, feeling for a second like she really was going to vomit.
He stood only a few meters from her, watching her intently with a small smile.
"I-I don't-I-"
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, and though his tone was breezy and light, his eyes were hard as flint. "Just bear in mind that if you aren't doing what I want, there's really no reason for me to not turn you in."
'I can't-I can't-'
'If you don't, you're done for. How much use will you be to Tom without a wand or training?'
Her eyes screwed up tight, she began to take off her clothes.
Her fingers were trembling almost too much to use them, but somehow, she managed.
After a few minutes she was standing in nothing but her bra and knickers, the carpet feeling warm against her bare feet.
"All of them," he said.
"I-pl-" she started, her eyes flying open.
"If you're just going to waste my time," he snarled, "then put your clothes back on, fuck off, and face the consequences. Make up your fucking mind already."
'Just do whatever he wants and it'll be over.'
She closed her eyes again, blindly fumbling at the clasp on her bra and dropping her knickers.
A moment later, she felt him moving beside her.
She kept her eyes shut, her body going as still as a statue, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Very nice," he muttered, his breath hot on her cheek, his hand roving around her chest. He squeezed her breasts, rubbing and flicking his fingers against her nipples.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to scream.
A dreamlike feeling swept over her right as his hand began to run down her body, his nails scratching lightly against her skin.
That feeling only increased as he reached in between her legs and began rubbing his hand there.
'Just let it happen, let him do what he wants and it'll all be over.'
His fingers were caressing her entrance, dancing along her skin.
'I'm going to scream, I can't hold it.'
She bit the inside of her cheek instead.
A small gasp escaped her as he plunged two of his fingers into her, her teeth clamping shut and drawing blood within her mouth.
He said something which flew straight through one ear and out the other, and a moment later he had removed his hand from her breast and was pushing her chin, angling her mouth up to meet his.
She'd never imagined a kiss to be anything like what she then experienced. His breath tasted terrible, his tongue lashing out against hers like a snake.
His fingers were still moving inside her, sending pain rushing from her groin to fill her body with their every twitch.
His hand moved back to her chest as he started pushing up against her, something hard rubbing up against her hip.
He pulled his fingers out of her without warning, moving his mouth from hers at the same time.
"Look at me," he said, "come on, look at me."
She opened her eyes, his blurry face slowly taking shape.
He moved slightly away from her, fumbling at his own robes.
"Get on your knees," he said, his voice rough and filled with some heavy, unidentifiable emotion.
'Oh Merlin, oh god, he wants-'
"Do it or leave," he said, throwing his robes into a pile near the table.
'Just fucking do it!'
She dropped to her knees, her legs shaking so much that she almost fell, nausea rising again.
He turned back to face her, kicking his boxers off.
She just stared.
She'd seen a boy's thing before, of course. It was unavoidable, growing up with six brothers, one of whom was just a year older than her.
But she'd never seen anything like this.
It was bigger than she'd have imagined, longer than two of her fists and thick, standing ramrod straight with an impossibly pink and swollen top.
The top glistened with some liquid, something leaking out from the hole.
She bit her cheek again, focusing all of her will on not vomiting.
As he stepped toward her, her peripheral vision began to fade, nothing visible except his slightly twitching member.
Her breath began coming in small stops and starts, her heart somehow beginning to pound even harder than it had until then.
'I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this-'
'Do whatever he wants or you're absolutely fucked. Just do what he wants.'
"I've n-never-I don't know h-how to-to-"
"Mind your teeth," he said, moving even closer, "use your tongue a lot, and move your head. You'll figure it out, I'm sure. You're a smart girl."
'No,no,no,no,no-'
Thought faded into a cloud of mindless panic as he took the final step forward, grabbing hold of her hair and shoving himself into her mouth.
She gagged, the terrible, rubbery thing knocking against the roof of her mouth.
"M-mind your teeth," he gasped, "And use your tongue. Do it!"
She folded her lips back, flicking her tongue around him, that feeling of unreality hitting her more heavily than it ever had before.
He gripped her hair, pulling her head forward and back roughly as he began pumping his hips.
"So good, fuck, you're so good."
A sudden, mad idea seized her, thoughts of just clamping her teeth down and ripping through him.
'He'll turn you in, if he doesn't just kill you first."
His strong, musky scent filled her nostrils, his pistoning groin and tugging of her hair forcing his entire length down her throat, making her gag again.
He didn't care. He just kept moving, plunging forward into her throat even faster, and emitting a strange, mewling groan.
'I'm going to be sick, I'm going to puke all over him-'
'He'll be furious. Just carry on. It'll be over soon.'
"Oh fuck, I'm gonna-I'm-"
He thrust himself as deep as he'd gone until then, and she felt it. Something, something thick and wet and slimy, flooding into the back of her throat.
He pulled out of her mouth, his legs shaking slightly.
"I want to see you swallow it."
'No, no, no-'
He gripped the bottom of her chin, pulling her up to face him.
"Go on, then."
He looked deranged, his face flushed and pupils enormous, a sweaty bunch of hair flopping onto his forehead.
'Just do it. And then you're done.'
She swallowed, feeling for a moment like she was going to choke.
"Amazing," he whispered, "fucking hell, you're amazing."
She looked back down, suddenly aware of the tears covering her face
When had she even started crying?
"Go wash your face," he said, his sneer audible.
He watched as she rose on jelly-legs, giving her a soft slap on the bum as she walked toward the bathroom.
Any other time, and she'd have been blown away by the beauty of the bathroom. The bathtub was easily bigger than her bed, standing on clawed feet with tens of faucets arranged all around the tub.
She just walked to the sink, carefully avoiding looking at herself in the mirror, the need to throw up pounding in her throat along with that horrific taste.
When she walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the cushioned armchair, one hand stroking his penis, a bottle of beer being raised to his mouth with his other hand.
"Leaving so soon?" He asked lightly as she bent to pick up her clothes.
"I-I thought-"
"I'd rather you didn't," he said, moving his legs to the sides and pushing his cock forward, "I'd much rather we tried to see if it's even better the second time."
Her eyes welled up again and she abandoned her clothes, walking toward him.
Blood trailed down her chest, giving a light pink hue to the water pooling around the drain.
The sound of the shower hid her sobs, her roommates sleeping just meters away totally unaware.
She retched, nothing left in her stomach to be expelled, her sides aching.
It wasn't going to end. He'd told her, after the second time that she-that she-
She retched again, pawing around the soap holder until she found the knife once more.
He'd told her that it wasn't over. He'd said it, that what she'd done had made him forget about catching her in the Restricted Section, but that he'd remember again soon enough.
And then she'd need to do what he wanted again.
She slashed the knife, pulling it harshly across what he'd called her tits.
The taste still stood out in her mouth, just as overpowering as the first moment she'd tasted it.
No matter how much she threw up and brushed her teeth, it was still there.
She cut again, staring at her wrist and wishing that she'd just sliced right through it, back when she'd wanted to.
If only she wasn't so weak, she'd have been able to fight him. If she was only better, smarter, more powerful, she'd have been able to stop him.
''It's not your fault. If Potter hadn't killed Tom, none of this would have happened.'
She lay on her bed, staring listlessly at the top of her four-poster.
Over the last week or so, she hadn't done anything other than her schoolwork. Somehow, she'd managed to pretend like everything was ok, but it was a never-ending battle.
She'd even been avoiding Luna and Colin, hiding out in her room during her breaks and free periods.
Ever since she'd met with him, the feeling of unreality had been constant, always present and always as strong as it was when she'd killed Trevor.
She shuddered, a single tear escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheek.
'I can't keep on like this. Someone's going to notice, if they haven't already.'
In fact, she was half convinced that the only reason nobody had noticed her sudden withdrawal was because of the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, and Potter's absurd presence in it.
Well, her current emotional state had been noticed, if only slightly. Luckily, Evelyn had bought her lie that she'd forgotten to take her monthly potion in time.
It wasn't at all a lie that she could keep up. Even using that excuse for a week was pushing it.
'If you keep acting like this, someone will realize something is up. If that happens, it will all have been for nothing.'
"But what do I do?" She whispered, her tears beginning to flood down her face, "I can't just-just pretend like nothing happened. I can't!"
'You can. Tom said that you're brilliant, that you're strong and brave. You can do it. You must.'
"I can't," she sobbed, "I can't!"
Utterly implacable, the voice answered. 'You don't have any other choice.'
She halted, just a step away from the door that would open behind a bookshelf.
Her heart was pounding, her chest aching as she began to gasp for air.
She was going to fail, again.
She'd tried to sneak into the Restricted Section twice since he'd found her there. Both times, she'd gotten up to right where she currently was before turning back, unable to make herself take that final step.
'Just fucking do it. If you don't, you're letting him win. And you'll never be able to help Tom.'
She raised a trembling hand and pushed open the secret door.
"Miss Weasley, please stay behind."
Everyone began heading out of the classroom, leaving her alone with Professor Vector.
Ginny glanced down at the homework she'd been given back, the roll of parchment she'd had to write the previous week.
There was no mark on the top of it.
"You should have noticed the lack of a grade on your last assignment by now. It was acceptable, barely, but nowhere near your usual standards. I've also noticed that over the past week or so, you've seemed almost as if you weren't present."
"I'm sorry," Ginny said quickly, "it won't happen again."
"Is everything alright?" Professor Vector asked, her voice suddenly kindly and soft,
The gentle care in her voice was almost enough to set Ginny off, to make her burst into tears.
For a fraction of a second, she debated telling the stern, caring witch everything. To just blurt the truth out, to tell her how she'd had no choice but to go and meet Higgs the night before, how it had been no different to the previous two times she'd had to go to his secret hideout.
She wanted to shout it, how he made her feel like nothing more than a hunk of meat, how he used her, how she had no choice but to do whatever he wanted, how she'd see him in the Great Hall and she'd taste his seed in the back of her throat and then would barely be able to force food down her gullet.
She wanted to explain how it was her own fault for being stupid, how it was really Potter's fault for killing Tom, how she was a disgusting monster who deserved no better than Higgs' treatment.
'And then you'd be expelled.'
"Doing better now," she said, "I forgot my moon potion last week. The first time I forgot since-since it started."
Vector winced.
"That can certainly be a traumatic experience," she said, "especially if you're used to the potion. Sometimes, I wonder how Muggle women manage it."
'The same way animals do,' she thought snidely.
"You should know, Madam Pomfrey has some potions that while not as effective as the usual one, can still help, even if taken once it's begun. But I don't think you'll need my admonishment to remember in the future."
"No, Professor."
"Well, you have until the next lesson to redo your essay. I expect it to be in fitting with the rest of your work."
"I'll-I'll try, Professor. Thank you."
"Not at all," Vector said, smiling brightly, "it's my pleasure."
She leaned against the wall, her wand slippery and warm.
Her eyes were wide, a jubilant grin stretching her lips.
The desk still stood where she'd place it, directly across the room from her.
A hole the thickness of her arm had been neatly drilled through it, the wood around the incision scorched and scuffed.
For the first time ever, she'd managed one of the spells from the Restricted Section on the first try.
It had been as easy as casting a Lumos.
She'd done nothing to prepare her emotions for it. Nothing other than allowing her mind to dwell on Higgs.
She glanced down at the length of wood in her hand.
'Tom had a Yew wand too. He said you'd be powerful.'
'If I'm so powerful, how come I lose my courage whenever I see him?'
'Maybe,' the voice whispered, 'maybe if you would just practice a bit more, maybe you'd be able to deal with him. No one knows about that room. You could just leave him there, no one would ever find him.'
"I can't," she whispered back, "I can't do that. I can't k-kill him."
'Why not? Are you content to be his little toy? If you won't deal with him, then you deserve whatever comes.'
She bit her lip hard, the joy of her success draining away.
'You need to practice on something. Something better than a stupid frog.'
"No," she muttered, shaking her head furiously, "no, I can't. I won't,"
She couldn't do that again, not after seeing Neville's weepy face.
'Tom would be disgusted with you. One day you'll meet him again, and he will be. You could stop it, and you're too weak to even try. You really are sickening.'
"I know."
She rocked back and forth with his motion, her jaw clamped down on the scream that kept trying to escape.
It felt like he was going to split her in two as he thrust even deeper into her. His hands squeezed her tits tightly, but that was barely a speck compared to the burning agony spreading from her groin.
She kept her eyes tightly closed, locking her tears within.
She'd never imagined her first time would be anything like this. Never in her worst nightmares had she thought it would be anything like this.
Her lungs felt constricted, barely obeying her desperate need for air.
Without warning, he slapped her, his hand whipping across her face.
"Don't just lie there," he grunted, spittle spraying the burning palm print on her cheek, "Fucking do something!"
"I-please-I don't-"
"Stop fucking crying!" He ordered, his hand colliding with her on the other cheek, "bitch!"
She began to move along with the rhythm, every motion of her hips sending a fresh wave of pain through her.
"That's it. Oh fuck, that's it. Keep on-don't stop! Don't stop, whore!"
She started crying again, but he didn't seem to mind this time.
"You just keep on getting better," Colin said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "I really don't know how you do it."
She shrugged, looking away from him.
'I get better because I keep practising, you stupid maggot.'
"I wish I could do this more often," he said morosely, "but it was hard enough getting away from Dennis today. He really wanted to know where I was going."
"It's fine," she said, "I'd prefer it more often, but what can you do?"
'Why don't you just use the Mudblood as practice for Higgs?'
"Do you want to come with me to Hogsmeade?"
She turned around suddenly, surprised.
Colin blushed, looking at his feet.
'He wants you for the same reason Higgs does. You're nothing but a body to them.'
'He doesn't!'
"If you're not planning on going with anyone else," Colin added, "I think it could be fun."
'Even if he does want you for that, it still could be useful. It'll distract them all from how withdrawn you've been.'
"I'd love to," She said, and Colin's face shone with joy.
"So?" Priscilla asked, "What do you think, Ginny?"
She blinked, her hand stopping its mindless twitching against her bathrobes.
"Um-"
"The First Task," Priscilla continued impatiently, "What do you think they'll be doing?"
"I really don't know," she said, "it could be anything, I guess."
"Well, we only have a week left to try and figure it out. I do so hope that Cedric's got a nice plan, whatever it is."
Her mind began to wonder again, as her roommates continued talking out their guesses for what the task would be and how the Champions would manage.
She couldn't be bothered to even try and get involved. Terrence had cornered her again that morning, telling her to be at their meeting place at a quarter to eleven.
She felt a bit envious, listening to the childish prattle around her.
None of them knew what it was like. They didn't have to happily go to be insulted, slapped, bitten, and defiled.
They didn't have to do whatever a disgustingly perverted boy wanted.
They didn't wish that they were strong enough to just kill him.
She turned her face away, watching the clock beside her bed tick away the time until she'd have to meet him again.
She sat curled up on a couch, the flickering flames from the fireplace lighting up the room.
The first few times that she'd had to do what he wanted, she'd come back to the Common Room weeping, feeling disgusting, feeling like she was carrying a gross disease. She'd barely been able to keep from vomiting whenever she thought about it, those first few times.
Now she sat, watching the flames and feeling utterly empty.
It was a far more all-encompassing emptiness than she'd felt, even after Potter had killed Tom.
This took over everything, numbing all emotion.
Even the thought of how well her spell practice had been going did nothing to break through the emptiness.
She pictured it to be a deep black pit in her belly, one that would grow and grow and keep growing until there was nothing left of her.
'If you don't do anything about it, you deserve it to happen. You could stop it. All you need to do is practice first. You could use that Parerum curse, make him kill himself or something like that. You could do it.'
Minor movement caught her eye, her head snapping instinctively around.
Hermione's cat had joined her in the empty room. It walked forward, coming to a stop in front of her couch where it stretched its back and lay down in front of the fire.
'Perfect. Just take a few hairs from it. That's all you need.'
She reached out toward Crookshanks and stopped, her hand suddenly trembling violently.
Neville had been distraught, since what she'd done with Trevor. He'd searched the Common room multiple times, tearing the place apart in his frantic hunt. He'd put signs up and asked people.
And, obviously, he hadn't found his toad.
'So the Mudblood will have her feelings hurt, so what? You need this! Not just to deal with him, but to be useful for Tom. You need this!'
"I know," she whispered.
'So? Do it!'
Her hand wouldn't obey when she tried to stretch it out onto Crookshanks. It just continued to hover there, a few inches above the resting cat.
'Weak. You deserve whatever he does to you.'
"I know," she repeated.
"Are you excited for the Task tomorrow?"
"Not really," she said, keeping her attention focused on the lake, "what about you?"
"Very," Luna said, "I'm sure it will be spectacular."
She grunted, pushing her scarf back up against the wind.
"Have I done something wrong?" Luna suddenly asked.
"No!"
She turned to face Luna, shock running through her when she saw the tears in her friend's eyes.
"Why would you think you have?"
"You've been so-so untalkative lately," Luna said, "I thought you'd...gotten sick of me."
"Never," Ginny said, pulling Luna into a hug, "never. I just-there's something going on. I don't want to talk about it."
Luna accepted that perfectly well, simply hugging Ginny back tightly.
"If you want," she said, "you can. I don't mind, whatever it is."
'You would. If you knew what a weak whore I am, you'd hate me. Just like everyone else would.'
"Thanks," she said, her voice choked with thick emotion.
"Is it anything to do with Colin?"
"No."
"Oh. I thought...after you went to Hogsmeade with him, I thought maybe he wanted to be your-your boyfriend, or something like that."
"No. Colin's been a perfect gentleman. Not too pushy or anything like that."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Her heart broke, the genuine love in Luna's voice as apparent as anything she'd ever heard.
"Just-just keep on being my friend. Even if I'm difficult to be around."
"Oh, Ginny."
Luna hugged her again, tighter than before.
"You could never be difficult to be around," she said admonishingly, "I just wish I could help with whatever it is."
"I need to take care of it myself," she said.
As she did so, she realized something.
'This can't go on much longer. I need to take care of him, somehow.'
'How could you do that if you aren't willing to hurt him?'
"That was amazing!" Evelyn gushed, "Did you see how it almost got him?"
"I know! I don't think I've ever seen such flying!"
"I was sure the dragon had him," Priscilla said, "when it hit him with its tail."
"Maybe he'll actually win," Evelyn said, "wouldn't that be incredible?"
'You stupid bitches,' she thought angrily, fluffing her pillow with slightly more force than was strictly necessary, 'two days ago you were saying how unfair it is that he got into the Tournament! Now you're supporting him?'
"He definitely was the best of the lot," Jasmine said, "I can't believe how blatantly biased Karkaroff was!"
"Did you think he'd fly, Ginny?" Evelyn asked, "It didn't even cross my mind."
"Me neither," she admitted, pulling herself into their conversation. "Looks like Krum didn't think of it either."
"What would they have done if one of the dragons actually had killed one of them?"
'I don't know about anyone else, but I'd have cheered. If it was Potter, at least.'
The boiling water poured down her face, making the fresh cuts on her tits sting.
She angled her face up into the shower's stream, wishing that she felt enough to cry.
She hadn't cried for what felt like ages. Hadn't laughed, or honestly smiled.
She'd barely felt anything.
She'd thought that it would get easier, the more she did it. She thought she'd get used to it, that she'd be able to handle what she needed to do to keep her secrets safe.
She'd thought that it would get easier to act like everything was alright.
But every time she met him, it got worse.
Every time he fucked her, he was worse. His slaps came far more frequently, on her face, ass, stomach. His insults flowed more freely.
And the worse he got, the harder everything else became.
She wished that someone would notice, that someone would realize that she was trapped in a nightmare.
She wished it, but she just couldn't allow them to see.
The very thing she'd spent the last year working for, getting into a pattern that would keep everyone's attention off of her; that was making it far less likely for anyone to tell that she was slowly losing her mind.
The Triwizard Tournament only helped make her invisible. Everyone else was far too busy caring about the stupid competition to even spare a thought for her.
Even her brothers had all but forgotten her. Ron was almost too grumpy to really talk to anyone, ever since Potter had joined the tournament, and Fred and George were even more preoccupied than usual.
The teachers were all busy with the stupid tournament.
And she was more alone than she'd ever been, Tom's absence more overwhelming than ever.
She could imagine the conversations with Tom all she liked, but she still didn't actually have him.
She didn't have anyone, not anyone who could help.
'So you've got to do it yourself. Stop being all stupid about it and kill Higgs already.'
"I can't," she whispered, the sound of the running water drowning out her words, "I just can't."
'Eventually, you're going to give in and just do it. You know you will. Why cause so much unnecessary pain to yourself? Just do it already.'
"I can't be sure that it'll work. I can't. If I try and it fails, it'll be even worse."
'So practice on a fucking animal!'
"If it gets worse," she sighed, "I will. I don't want to, but I will."
'You said that you would either way. To learn how to best help Tom. You said you would.'
"I-after Trevor-I don't-"
'Disgusting. You're disgusting.'
"If it gets much worse," she said, "I will."
'You need to do it either way. You'll never be able to fight a person if you can't kill even kill an animal.'
She sighed again, staring up into the stream and wishing that she could just feel anything.
Colin walked out of the classroom, pale-faced and shaking, wearing an odd, weak grin.
Immediately, the crowd of waiting students pounced.
"What was it?"
"Was it hard?"
"Did he help?"
Colin just shook his head at them.
"It won't be the same for you guys as it was for me," he said, "that's not how it works. And he didn't really help, but he was standing just a little bit away. If you need, he'll help."
The door opened again, Moody's voice calling the next student in.
"Good luck!"
"Was it ok?" She asked, grabbing Colin just as he made to walk past her.
He shrugged. "Almost took me too long to figure out how to make it funny. But I managed. Could have gone worse."
She nodded, releasing his arm.
"We're on tonight?" He whispered, "I did all my homework so far, so it works for me."
She cast her gaze around the rest of their classmates.
None of them were paying any attention to her and Colin, instead all staring at the classroom door with similar attentive expressions.
All of them trying to imagine what their boggart would be and how to fight it.
"I don't think tonight," she whispered back with a pang, wishing that she'd be able to spend the evening duelling with Colin instead of serving Higgs' perverse desires. "I've got a few things to do. Maybe tomorrow?"
He nodded, his face gaining a bit of colour back.
"Good luck with it," he said, jerking his head toward the door. "Although I can't imagine you'll have any issues."
One by one, the waiting crowd thinned as Moody called them in, until eventually, it was just Ginny, Jasmine, and Priscilla.
The door opened a few minutes after Roger Urquhart had left the room, and Moody's voice filtered out into the corridor.
"Weasley, you're up."
"Good luck," Priscilla and Jasmine said as Ginny entered the class.
All the desks and chairs had been swept aside, piled neatly in the corner.
Moody stood near one wall, his wand out and aimed at the battered trunk lying in the centre of the room.
As she entered, the trunk gave a lurch.
"You know what it'll turn into for you?"
She gave a shrug.
"Not quite sure, Professor."
His regular eye focused on her, the magical one still trained on the trunk.
"No idea?"
"Not really."
"Well, first things first. How do you deal with a boggart?"
"Concentrate on a funny version of whatever form it's taken," she said automatically, "and then do the charm."
"And the Charm is?"
"Riddikulus."
"Good. Good. Tell me when you're ready, and I'll let it out. I'll be standing by in case of any issues."
"Professor?" She asked, her wand still dangling by her side. "What does the boggart look like? I mean, now, when it's in the trunk."
His magical eye swivelled toward her for a moment before returning to its vigil.
"Wouldn't you know," he said, "you're the first Gryffindor to ask that. Take five points."
She just stood there, waiting for him to finish the meaningless praise and actually answer.
"Imagine a hairless monkey. Now imagine it's made out of mist, and that it keeps losing and regaining its shape. That's what the boggart looks like now."
She nodded, gripping her wand.
"I'm ready."
The trunk shot open, a formless mass erupting from it.
It seemed to hover in mid-air for a moment, before giving a loud crack.
And Terrence Higgs stood in front of her.
She hadn't even processed the sight, hadn't thought of what she could do before it gave another crack, changing its shape.
Her heart lurched, a strange hopeful sensation warming her belly.
The boggart had become Tom.
She recognized him immediately, even though his appearance was different.
He was taller than he'd appeared to her, his feature looking like they'd been made from wax that had begun to run. His eyes were blood red, his robes seeming to be created out of pure darkness.
And he sneered at her, a look of utter disdain twisting his perfect face.
"Weak," He said, none of the warmth he'd shown to her before evident in his voice. "Weak. Useless little girl."
She fell to her knees with her wand dropping from suddenly limp fingers, all her lessons about the boggart and the watching presence of her Professor forgotten.
"Disgusting," Tom snarled, taking a step toward her. "A disgusting little failure."
She tried to speak, tried to force an apology through her lips.
Her mouth had gone too dry for words to form, her voice catching in her throat.
'It's not really him! It's just a boggart! Just a boggart! Fight it!'
Her thoughts ran sluggishly, Tom's face filling the entire world.
He took another step forward, his hand stretching out toward her.
She was helpless to do anything but wait for him to punish her.
Without warning, the boggart cracked again, flying apart into a cloud of mist and hurtling back into the trunk.
She didn't move, not even as Moody clunked his way toward her.
She'd been so close. It hadn't been Tom, but it was the closest thing she'd experienced for two years.
It hadn't been Tom, but it had sounded like him, had looked like him.
"C'mon," Moody said roughly, "you're alright. Get up, girl."
She stood, looking anywhere but at her professor's face.
"Do you want to talk about what just happened?" He asked, his voice gentler than she'd have thought he was capable of.
She shook her head, her eyes tightly closed, tears somehow still escaping her lids.
He sighed, clunking his way across the room.
"If you do," he said, "you know where to find me. No one will find out what happened here. No one will find out anything you tell me."
"Thanks," she whispered.
For a long few minutes, he said nothing.
"Ok," he sighed, "we're done here. I can't help if you won't let me. You can leave."
She did, feeling his gaze on her back even as she left the corridor and escaped toward her room.
He continued to knead her tits, nuzzling against the back of her neck.
She just lay there impassively, her open eyes seeing nothing of the wall ahead of her, the feel of his come running down her legs not bothering her.
The bite on her shoulder still stung, but she showed no signs of discomfort, not even when he ran his tongue over it.
He played with her body and she let her mind wander, her experience with the boggart from earlier that day playing over and over again in her head.
He squeezed her nipple suddenly, twisting it painfully to the side. As he did so, he pushed up against her, his cock rubbing against her ass.
She felt it twitch and knew that it would soon be hard again, that he'd be wanting another round soon enough.
She shivered, moaning slightly as he pulled on her other nipple. He liked it when she moaned.
"I've been thinking," he said, the leer in his voice worse than his teeth on her flesh, "it's a shame that I only have you till the end of the year. Don't you think?"
'No! No! It ends then, it ends when he leaves, that's it!'
'It'll never end. Not unless you make it end. If you ever want Tom to be proud of you, you'll end it.'
"Don't you think?" He repeated, twisting her nipple hard enough to elicit a groan of pain from her.
"It is a shame," she said.
"I agree. Of course, who knows what will be next year, right? Maybe we'll be able to continue here and there, maybe not. But I've had an idea of how we can make the end of the year really special."
"Oh?"
'I don't care, I don't want to know, just stop! I'm going to do it, you're going to make me do it! I don't want to kill you!'
"Every year," he said, "the outgoing Slytherin seventh years throw a party. Sixth years get invited. Of course, the seventh years provide everything. Food, drink. Entertainment. So I think I'll provide you."
He pushed up against her, his cock hardening against her crack.
"Something like this," he said.
There was a rustling of paper, and one of his terrible magazines was being pushed in front of her face. It was one of the Muggle magazines. And it showed a woman on all fours wearing nothing but a collar and leash around her neck, surrounded by six or seven naked men.
There was a man taking her from behind, another caught in the middle of thrusting into her mouth. The others stood around her, clearly stroking themselves.
"I think we could do something like this," he said, pushing up against her again, clearly fully hard now. "Wouldn't you like that? I'd even transfigure your face and voice, so that no one has to know who our little whore is. That would be a nice goodbye present for me. I'm sure you'd even like it. What do you think?"
She closed her eyes, his thrusts against her becoming quicker and harder, his hands pulling more roughly.
He would make her do it, she knew. She'd have no choice.
'You have a choice. You can stop it. Unless you're too weak to do what needs to be done.'
"I said: what do you think?"
Facing away from him, his cock rubbing up against her lower back, his hands pawing her chest, Ginny made up her mind.
Her eyes shot open, invisible rage burning deep within.
"I'd love it," she said in what she hoped was a sultry voice.
"Good girl," he said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her onto her back.
'This is all your fault. Whatever I do, it's your own fucking fault. Why couldn't you just have left me alone?'
"There you are," she said, squatting down against the wall, "you've been very difficult to find, you know."
Mrs Norris glared at her mistrustfully, her eyes gleaming in the dark.
"I know, I know. It's after curfew. I am on the way back to my dorm now. You don't need to worry."
The cat just stared at her, its tail flicking from side to side.
The stickiness between her legs had faded after her shower, the teeth marks on her shoulder and tits removed with a few healing charms.
But the flames that Higgs had ignited in her belly still burned, the cold certainly that had coated her mind still remained to guide her.
She wasn't going to be his good little whore, not for much longer. Not if there was anything she could do about it.
Mrs Norris seemed to shrink for a second as Ginny's hand reached toward her, entering into a pouncing position.
"I'm just going to stroke you," she said, "I'm not going to hurt you."
No teeth flew for her hand, no claws shooting out to scratch her.
She rubbed her hand through the cat's fur, pushing gently on the flesh beneath.
"See?" She said, as a soft purring filled the air, "I knew you'd like it."
She stayed like that for a few minutes, running her hand all over the cat, scratching behind its ears and over the top of its head.
When she pulled her hand away, Mrs Norris butted up against it, clearly trying to get her to continue. Only when a few minutes passed without her doing so did the cat leave, shooting a disdainful look at her over its shoulder as it wandered away.
She wasn't going to put up with Higgs' demands anymore, not if she had a way to remove them.
And as she looked at the cat hairs in her hand, she knew she would soon have just that.