Scarred For Life by Margarita

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 4
Published: 19/12/2003
Last Updated: 19/12/2003
Status: Completed

Some Christmas smut for D/G fans. Draco and Ginny's son gets an unwanted present this
Christmas.




1. Scarred For Life
-------------------

Title: Scarred For Life

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: They belong to JKR and some publishers.

A/N: Okay some people are going to find this perverted. Some other people are like me and are
going to realise that this is just fluff and should be taken that way. So please don’t bitch to me
about how you were offended by this, reviews like that only make me realise how prudish some people
can be, especially ones who click on NC-17 material. Oh and just as a side note, I was slightly
drunk when I wrote this so it could go either way.

I think I was six when it happened. In fact, I’m sure I was four because that Christmas I got
that broom from Mum and Dad I’d been begging them for, for months – okay weeks, but considering I
usually got everything I wanted from them as soon as I asked, it was a comparatively long time.

So it was Christmas Eve when I was six, and I had woken up in the middle of the night for
reasons I don’t remember 12 years on. Maybe I was thirsty, maybe I heard a noise, or maybe I was
just being difficult, as my family tells me I continually am. Look, I don’t really remember the
specifics, and if you want to hear them get someone else to tell you the bloody story. But if you
want to just shut up and listen to me, then here’s what I remember. Here’s what scarred me for
life.

_________________________________

Agravain Malfoy walked down the dark wooden steps of his house, grabbing on to the banister as
he went. He was still too small to reach it properly, so his arms were stretched above his head,
his fingers grasping the rail for support. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he turned to his left
and walked down the dark hallway for a few steps, watching his toes, before he heard a noise.
Nervously, Grey looked up. The end of the hallway was bathed in the light coming from the living
room entrance, and so he assumed his mum and dad were still awake, sitting by the fireplace.

He began to tiptoe carefully towards the entrance, listening for the sounds of his parent’s
voices as he got closer. Grey strained his ears, but found he could hear nothing except the
crackling of the fire and the padding of his bear feet on the wooden floor, even when he reached
the open doors.

In the back of his mind he knew something was amiss, and cautiously he looked around the door
frame, into the main living room. He saw his Dad sitting on the sofa watching something with a
smirk on his face. Grey was told constantly by Grandmother, and with less enthusiasm, Uncle Ron,
that he had the exact same smirk as his dad; in fact in most physical ways they were exactly alike.
But occasionally Nana Molly would sit him on her lap and say he was just like his Mummy, and for
some reason that made him feel better. Not that he didn’t worship his father, but he’d rather be a
little bit more approachable.

His dad was currently slouched on the antique 18th century sofa with his legs apart,
his arms resting across the back. His smirk was unwavering, but the look in his eyes went from
amused, to happy, to a glazed over sleepy look Grey had never seen on his father before.

Daring to move around the corner and into the entrance a little bit more, the blond haired boy
came out of the shadows and immediately caught a glimpse of his mother standing in front of his
father, smiling at him cheekily. The fireplace roaring behind her, gave his mother an almost
ethereal glow, and to Grey she looked more like an angel in that moment than he’d ever seen her
before or since. She was wearing the same short, red dress that she had worn to the Christmas party
they had thrown at their house tonight, but now her jewellery was lying on the end table next to
the sofa and she didn’t have make-up on her face anymore.

Grey always thought his mum was like two different people. When she was dressed up and around
other people she was graceful and elegant, making everyone feel welcome with her warmth and beauty.
But when she was alone with dad and him, she was loud and boisterous and fun. Right now she looked
different than he’d ever seen her; she looked excited and flustered but still poised and lucid. She
was staring back at dad, biting her lip and reaching up to take her hair out of its clasp letting
it tumble around her shoulders. Silently, Grey wondered what was going on.

_________________________________

Draco watched Ginny as she teased him with her eyes. He knew what she was up to, but he was
still curious to see exactly what she would do. During the party tonight, he and his wife had
engaged in a covert flirting match, teasing each other to within an inch of their sanity. She won
by default; the use of *that* red dress should be considered cheating. A technicality she was
currently remedying by beginning to remove the garment.

He gave his best impression of nonchalance, as Ginny slid one spaghetti strap down a creamy
shoulder, glancing at him impishly as she did so. She moved immediately to work the other strap
down, and then wiggled her body to make it easier to tug the form fitting slip to the floor. Draco
groaned under his breath as he realised she had been completely naked under her clothes all night.
Biting his lip, he watched his wife as she stalked toward him in nothing but stiletto sandals, and
straddled his lap.

Slouching down further in the seat, Draco made himself more comfortable under Ginny, while still
refraining from touching her. He had wanted to all night; wanted to touch those lips that she had
licked when he looked in her direction, wanted to fondle those hips that she had wiggled enticingly
at him, and most of all wanted to brush his mouth over those breasts that she had pressed
temptingly against him when they danced. He settled for running his fingers over the cool, gold
edges on the back of the settee and letting his eyes wander over her delicious curves.

Ginny smiled, leaned forward and began to undo Draco’s top shirt button, but he caught her hands
before she could get it through the hole. Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed them lightly
before bringing them down to rest on the hardening bulge in his trousers. Needing no further
encouragement Ginny began to rub him firmly, vaguely wondering what he was up to, that required him
to be fully clothed while she was naked. She figured it was probably just another Malfoy power
trip, and frankly, she was getting off on it. Deciding to cause a shift in power, she pulled away
from him slightly and moved her head down to his crotch. He hissed harshly as she grabbed his
zipper between her teeth, and pulled it down slowly, rubbing her nose against his cock, as she did
so.

A jolt of intense pleasure shot through Draco’s body, and with the grace and speed of a jungle
cat, he flipped Ginny onto her back on the couch, and manoeuvred himself on all fours, so he could
stalk his way up her long, lithe body. Ginny immediately began purring, and a deep animalistic need
overcame Draco to take her fast, hard and dirty.

Grabbing her long legs at her calves, Draco folded Ginny’s legs so her knees were up against her
shoulders and entered her in one hard thrust. Rapidly, he began pounding into her, while still
fully clothed - even his belt was still fastened - despite the fact he was starting to sweat. It
seemed to get his wife hot though, as she began moaning loudly and arching up to him strongly.
Determined to show his dominance, however, Draco flipped her over onto her front where, despite her
surprise, she immediately raised up on her knees and braced herself against the armrest with both
hands, still panting loudly.

Draco smirked blissfully, still unable to believe how fantastic his wife was. Not just in bed,
but as that was the point of the current exercise he focused on her abilities in that area. She
always pleased him. Knew his body, his mind, what he wanted, all without asking - which was great
for him because he wasn’t one of the great communicators of all time. She was purely instinctive.
She was never self-conscious, and she usually never bothered with all the fancy trappings, like
annoying lacy underwear that got in the way, or perfumes that got irritated his sinuses and took
away from the sexy smells that were *her*. She was kinky and soft, down and dirty and tender,
wicked and sweet. She was just pure, fantastic sex. And he loved everything about her.

Ginny could *feel* her husband smirking behind her, and irritated beyond belief that he
wasn’t getting on with the job, she began moving her bum enticingly, knowing it would work like a
charm to distract him from his thought process, and get him inside of her. She was, as always,
right; he squeezed her arse, before gripping her hips and slamming into her roughly. Ginny had to
grab on tighter to the arm rest to stop her face from smacking into it. *But it was all in a
night’s fun wasn’t it?* She laughed to herself, as her hair tumbled in front of her.

Draco moved his grip to the armrest, next to Ginny’s hands. Using the leverage he began to pound
into her with a force and speed he knew she could handle, and loved, despite it making her sore in
the morning. His hair fell into his eyes, but he ignored the irritation as he could feel the
familiar tingling sensation travelling down his spine. Ginny was close, but not close enough, and
Draco tried to concentrate on anything except the feel of her tight sheath squeezing him
rhythmically, in an effort to contain himself. She didn’t make it any easier, when she began
grinding her shapely bum into his cock roughly, and moaning loudly the things she wanted him to do
to her. Draco exhaled heavily, focusing on the bright, flickering candles levitating around the
Christmas tree, while mentally begging himself not to burst.

Thankfully he soon felt Ginny start to come, gasping and wiggling fitfully against him, and
gladly he let himself go. Soon he was thrusting erratically into her with deep, long strokes, and
after one final plunge he came in long, hard spurts, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he did
so.

Breathing heavily, they both collapsed and rested for a few minutes, before Draco flipped Ginny
back over gently, and proceeded to kiss her for the first time that evening. Ginny giggled lightly
as their tongues tangled in a messy, wet mashing of mouths. While she stroked Draco’s hair away
from his face gently, he trailed a hand down her body, lightly massaging her breasts in his palms
and rubbing her tummy soothingly.

Draco pulled away, now able to see his wife’s flushed face clearly without his hair in his eyes,
and smiled gently at her. She looked up at him through sleepy eyes and gave him that look.

The ‘I love you’ look.

His favourite.

It meant everything to him, even more than the ‘you’re so sexy’ look, or the ‘bedroom, now!’
look. He returned it with his own ‘I love you, and you’re such a great shag’ look.

She just smiled and wrapped her arms around him, protecting him from the world while making her
his.

_________________________________

Oh, it's not like I saw all that much, since the couch blocked most of my vision, but I saw
enough to know damn well what they were doing as soon as I got older. I mean okay, in the darkest
recesses of my mind where NO ONE is allowed to enter, I guess that moment made me realise how much
my parents do love each other. I understand them both a lot more for it, especially since my
childhood was spent wondering why they never told me, or each other how they felt, except when they
were bickering like children. I always remember that moment and know that just because they don’t
express the feelings they have for each other verbally, doesn’t mean they don’t have other ways of
letting the other know they are still infatuated, passionate, *insane* about the other.

How introspective am *I*?

Now don’t get me wrong, I have no trouble with the girls in the leg over department, if you know
what I mean, (I am my fathers son, after all.) But to this day, I still can’t manage to get the
little wizard up anytime during Christmas day. Or Christmas Eve. Or boxing day, the bastards. I’m
scarred for life, never able to get a good shag around the Christmas holidays, and for that I’ll
resent my parents forever.

Although I must say, during my fathers sex talk right before I left for Hogwarts, I don’t think
I’ve ever listened to him more intently. First of all, my dad’s Draco Malfoy, so it wasn’t your
usual ‘If you find a girl you love and respect enough, then this goes in that hole’ y’know? He
taught me technique, pick up moves and proper etiquette afterwards, and I trusted it because I’d
seen him in action. When I was 14, I put it what he taught me into practice, and it turned out the
bugger was right.

Look, bottom line, my parents are great, despite their unconscious ruining of Christmas for me.
And I don’t think I’d understand them as much as I do, if I hadn’t seen them express the affection
the have for one another. It’s a comforting feeling *knowing* you’re parents are in love -
preferably with each other. Not that I’m saying it was pleasant and a joy to watch because yuck.
But it was a growth experience, and in the end isn’t that what Christmas is about?

Okay no, it isn’t, but shut up, no one asked *you* did they?

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hoped you enjoyed my little present.



