Chapter 32: Leverage

She knew it was a mistake as soon as she said it. She was so focused on mental replacement, she wasn't spending enough effort keeping her drunk self in line. It always seemed to get her in trouble. Then again, she reasoned, she always enjoyed herself – at least in the moment. And that, she reminded herself, was what she should be focused on.

This is a mistake, her brain reminded her, groggily, from behind its punch-coloured curtain, as she felt a distinct radiating heat approach over her.

"What was that?"

His hands were still on her bare back, pressing down on her slightly, as he spoke, his voice – quiet and teasing – just inches from her ear. If she'd dared to open her eyes, she was sure she'd see straight up into his grey ones – the ones she'd lately found so perplexing in their lack of hatred.

You mean gold. Blaise has golden hazel eyes.

But it wasn't Blaise, and she knew it.

Still, despite the part of her screaming it was a bad idea, she found herself too enthralled with the way her heart was pounding in a mixture of fear and anticipation. It was like she was watching a horror scene, and any second something terrible would happen. She needed to keep going until she figured out what.

"…you don't… have the right leverage…?" She mumbled again, less sure of herself this time. She couldn't open her eyes, she just couldn't, too scared he'd be grinning sadistically at her, too scared he was just waiting to make fun of her, or worse.

There was no possible way he could be misreading this. Right? He'd held off, not pushed it, and now…


Her skin was hot, all covered in goosebumps, and she was blushing like a nun in a brothel. She'd done that thing he'd seen other girls do when they got nervous and excited, shifting her hips and turning her toes toward each other, pressing her thighs together like it might somehow stop whatever – undoubtedly unwanted – feelings he was causing in her.

The rush of power was exquisite.

But, of course, he was careful. The littlest Weasley was a tricky one, and he refused to be blamed if things went wrong. Which meant he couldn't push it, unless she agreed. But maybe this whole 'consent' thing didn't have to be so clunky and drab.

He found himself smirking as she repeated her words, tentatively. She hadn't backed down. She hadn't changed her mind. She wasn't entirely sure, but he could work with that.

Still leaning over her, one hand stroking a thumb up her spine again – like he hadn't noticed her reaction the first time around, please! – he murmured, his voice edged slightly in an echo of a growl, "And what would you suggest to fix that?"


She'd let out a brief – quickly curtailed – moan at the stimulation. She knew what she'd suggest, but the thought of it had her breath coming faster, confused as to where these images were coming from, how she'd gone from hating his guts to not minding him so much to – that was not an appropriate image-

"You could…" she bit her lip again. Why did she always do that? It was the nonverbal signal that she released control of the situation, but her current… what was he exactly? helper? …he didn't know that. So she struggled to say something else, and failed.

There was a pause, and she felt a hand cup the back of her neck, massaging the base of her skull. Fuck, he was good with his hands.

"Hmm?" His voice was, once again, teasing, but not with the malevolent undertones she'd used to expect. It was wicked, yes, but in a way that made her shiver. "I won't do anything unless you tell me, Ginny." He'd never called her that. Before, she'd thought it would be odd to hear him call her that. Stilted and out of place. But now… it felt perverse. Wrong, and taboo, but it nearly made her swoon. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Then again, she didn't need to. She could pretend all she liked that just cause she couldn't see him he couldn't see her, but that just wasn't true. He knew the effect he was having.

"You-" There was no possible way she'd ever done something this difficult. Even apologizing to Ron after yelling at him wasn't this bad. "Could- …could-"

"Where do you want me, love." It wasn't a question, it was a command, spoken with a voice that was smooth but cut through with a husky throatiness that screamed of masculinity. And for some reason, Ginny suddenly got it. She got why girls liked his whole 'I'm the boss, do what I say' act: it was hot. Incredibly so.

She rolled her head back forward and ducked it, biting her thumb. "…nnn dnb," she hadn't thought it was possible to blush even more, but she was.


Fuck, she was adorable. He wanted to ruin her.

It was so hard to stop the rush of images invading his brain, especially now that he'd heard her moan in real time, and seen the way her blush flooded her skin with color. The things he could do with her…

Calm yourself. Slow and steady. Get her words out.

He put his lips even closer to her ear. "Sorry, sweetheart, I missed that. What did you say?" He tried to keep the patronizing tone out of his voice, but it slipped in anyway. Not mean, simply… authoritative.

He tilted his ear and heard the very slightest squeak. "On dnb." It was lost in the cushion again.


"Ginny…" His voice was calm, coaxing, and he gently touched just behind her ear. She rolled her head to face him, eyes still shut tight. "What was that? On…?"

Her eyes fluttered open, filled with terror and hope and caution and need, resting briefly on his lips before darting to his eyes. She licked her lips, nervously, and managed a weak, "Top?"

It wasn't the evil grin she'd been expecting to kick her in the ass once she'd let her mouth run away with her. Instead, Draco Malfoy's lips quirked up in a slight predatory smile, one she'd never seen directed at her before – if she'd ever seen it at all.

Ginny had thought her admission would be the end. Things would happen, she'd regret them, and then spend the next 6-7 months of her school career denying that anything had ever come to pass. But that wasn't how things went.

"I'd love to, sweetheart," again with the patronizing pet names, voice low, as he straightened up, "but you're drunk and that would be taking advantage."

Seriously? He chose now to develop a conscience?

"You'll just have to ask nicely some other time."

Ginny's eyes had gone wide, and now she shut them tight again, burying her face in her folded arms.

She felt the skin on her arms prickling before she heard the last words he whispered in her ear in a teasing growl.

"And, since you can't stand the sight of me-"

She bit her lip, but the motion was hidden from view.

"-Next time I'll be sure to bring a blindfold."

She wasn't sure what was going on in her head, but somehow Malfoy had thoroughly mindfucked her. And, surprisingly enough… she thought she might've enjoyed it.


A/N: Fun chapter, and last one I'll be posting for a while. Hopefully I'll be coming back to this next month, but it might take a while. Wish me luck!