She was pillowed in the rich softness of her comforter. She was half-turned on her side, facing him. Hands were flung above her head, though whether as a sign of surrender or seduction he wasn't sure. Her hair was settled on the pillow and reflected the moonlight. Another pillow or two rested beside her, underneath the blankets. He moved closer to her and touched the delicate skin of her inner arm with one long elegant finger.
He knelt and was at face level. He ran the backs of both his hands over this same skin, knowing that if he used his Quidditch-roughened palms she'd immediately feel the difference.
She twitched, stretching and bringing her arms down. Draco didn't move fast enough. She came in contact with his retreating hands and caught one, instantly awake. Her eyes opened and she screamed full out in his face.
"Gods, Ginny, you're going to wake the dead," he said easily, his visage reforming into a sneer.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed, clutching her comforter tightly to her neck.
"I have ended my Halloween evening prematurely, to what will be Ms. Parkinson's immense dismay, to carry out my Head Boy duties."
"And what exactly are those?" she bit out.
"Why, patrolling the corridors, of course. Who's to say I wouldn't hear a 'disturbance'?"
"And who's to say they won't hear my disturbance?" Ginny retorted. She began to sit up in bed, Draco noticed, and readying to fight him. She clearly believed it would come to that; her small hands fisted angrily.
Before he could deliver an answer, she swung her feet around and gave him a kangaroo kick to the upper chest. He toppled backwards, cursing. She followed her kicking path and came to stand up straight in front of him.
He righted himself only to contend with a furious pixie more than a head shorter. Muttering a counter-spell he removed his mask so that he could use his commanding eyes to their full effect. He threw it on the floor. His mocking sneer bubbled and he advanced on her, taking the smallest steps possible.
"Get out of my room, Malfoy. I told you to stop coming after me. I mean nothing in your whole scheme of things," she said, reaching for her wand. His hand shot out and he caught her wrist in his icy grip.
"Hex me and you'll have to explain me in your room!" he said roughly. Her once-confident expression immediately turned to one of fear. Her mouth dropped in a small o of surprise.
He leaned down right in her face.
"Remember this?" He licked her nose and while she was reacting, caught her bottom lip between his own. He bit it sharply and tasted one sweet droplet of coppery blood. She gasped in pain.
His mouth took hers roughly, biting her lips and tongue to make her open further to him. She writhed against his questing tongue.
Ginny felt herself being picked up and thrown onto her bed. She was fighting Malfoy as hard as she could, but the sensations of his near-painful bites drove her to distraction. Raising her hands she raked her fingernails down his cheeks as hard as she could. He grunted, feeling her sharp little claws branding him.
"You've marked me, you spiteful bitch," he exclaimed.
Her eyes turned fiery. "You're a bastard," she growled in a voice that was not her own. Draco stood back, turning to admire himself in her mirror. He turned back to her, his pale face marked by four long thin livid welts on either cheek.
She was standing again, long tee-shirt hitting above her knees. She began edging towards the door.
"Go one step more and I'll immobilize you," he said angrily. He began advancing on her.
Ginny stood rooted, unsure of his next move. She didn't care to test his proficiency with his wand. He stopped in front of her. She hung her head in shame, feeling a growing heat slide over her sensitized skin. He stood so close that her breasts brushed against his chest with each tremulous breath she took.
Suddenly she felt the tip of his tongue behind her earlobe. He began touching it all over her face, ears and neck. Like a damned snake, she thought, he's sniffing me with his tongue. When he trailed his tongue over her bruised and swollen lips, she turned her head away, face hidden by her hair. She could not stop the bone-deep shudder that shook her body. Instantly Malfoy stopped, pulling back with a snarl. She looked up at the sound to see that his face had become blotchy with animalistic rage. He does have a heart, she thought desperately. Else he wouldn't be so red-faced.
"Have you ever felt more revulsion for a human being?" he whispered, gray eyes becoming thunderclouds. "Do you find the idea of my touch so repulsive?" he whispered again, his voice an octave lower. His face contorted in fury. Without taking his gaze off her worried firewhiskey eyes, he shouted "Accio gloves!"
From the pockets of his fine robe came the gloves. They hovered in front of him.
"Perhaps, Virginia, you will feel less uncomfortable with my gloves taking over. So you won't feel my Slytherin filth on your body!" he yelled.
"Adsector Draco!" he shouted, and the gloves followed the movement of his hands. A glazed look came into his eyes. They focused on hers once more. He backed up.
His gloves hung in the air, gleaming dully in the pale moonlight. They had filled out as if they were covering flesh and blood hands. He pointed to Ginny's head and made a petting motion. One glove came down softly over her hair, stroking it. She could feel the heat from it warming her scalp like sunshine. She shied away immediately, trying to escape them. From beside her, Draco laughed mirthlessly.
"Maybe my gloves can pry a name out of you," he mused, sending the gloves after her retreating form.
She swatted at them, only making the gloves come after her more vigorously. One handed and caressed her hip while the other touched her cheek. She stole a glace at Draco while dancing around and was infuriated to see his hands flexing and moving as if he were touching her himself.
But he is, she reminded herself frantically.
"Malfoy, make them stop," she pleaded when one brushed against her breast. She began to move again but found herself almost in a corner. As she turned to find a way out, both gloves came over her behind and cupped gently, kneading. She couldn't control the instant rush of heat that pooled in the center of her body while trying to hide the guilt and frustration on her face.
His glacial stare was almost obscured by platinum strands of hair covering his eyes. He stalked her like a lithe cat, predatory and precise. She had no choice but to back against the wall. She tried to stand her ground but shook as the gloves stroked her body.
"There there, Ginny. Doesn't it make you feel better to know I am not touching you?" he growled, coming to stand directly in front of her. He placed his hands on the wall above her shoulders, his forehead nearly touching hers. She wrestled with herself to keep still despite the gloves, which were fluttering dangerously near her thighs. She forced herself to watch him, knowing she couldn't bear to see his fingers creating intricate patterns for his gloves to follow.
"So, Weasley, it's time for a little give and take. You give me what I want and I'll take what I want. How's that?" he whispered into her ear. She didn't answer, merely grit her teeth.
"NO!" she screamed when the gloves tugged down her knickers. Frantically she reached down, trying to dislodge them. He grabbed her forearms and with one hand held her slender wrists captive above her head. The other swiftly shoved her hips forward, making her more vulnerable to the gloves' attack. The heat emanating from his palm burned her like a brand.
"Please don't do this to me, Malfoy," she half-sobbed as a glove went back up her shirt and parted her folds.
"Come now, Ginny, that can't hurt any more than what you were doing in the shower," he said. "Less, I'd guess."
There was no way to intimate to Malfoy exactly how much it hurt.
He watched her body shudder slightly as his glove doubtless began to stroke the nerve-filled bundle at the top of her thighs. He could see tears begin to roll down her cheeks as she struggled vainly to keep the gloves from their mission. Draco removed his wand from his pocket.
"Look at me, Ginny!" he demanded. She raised her head a few centimeters. "More!" She met his steely gaze and almost maniacal smile. He took the tip of his wand and muttered the cutting charm. Instantly the seams of her tee shirt split in half at the shoulders, allowing it to fall just above the swell of her breasts.
"Who was it, Ginny?" He dropped his head to study the curve of her shoulder. He raked his teeth over her ivory skin and felt triumphant. "Are you sure it wasn't dear Colin Creevey? That he didn't want an extra something in return for helping you with Potions?" He bit her sharply between her shoulder and neck.
"NO!" she cried. "It isn't Colin!" She began to say something more but her breath hitched. Draco could feel her body trembling. No doubt she was coming close to her release. He slowed the rhythm of the gloves and her eyes popped open in surprise. Draco's heart raced in unimaginable excitement. He could feel himself hardening against his trousers.
He dropped his head once more and began biting her. He bit the very tops of her breasts, then came back to lick them before he went to her other shoulder. Her body began to tense.
"Of course! Strapping Seamus. He wanted to stick you but you femininely refused," Draco said brightly before delivering a particularly rough bite under her left jaw.
Ginny's body was thrumming. She was drenched in sweat and the slight perfume of her arousal. Fear and loathing had a place in there as well. She would not tell him. Never. Ever.
"No, ruddy toad, it isn't Seamus!" she said defiantly, despite the emotions tumbling through her body. Draco was enraged.
"Nullify adsector!" Draco strangled out. Obediently they dropped and raced into his robe's pockets.
Draco shoved himself against Ginny, no wrist-pinning required now. His own hand raced up her shirt and bunched it around her waist.
"Maybe you need a bit more persuasion," he sneered. His thumb began to frantically rub at the ball of nerves that would rock her core. She gasped and tried to push him away.
He felt her slick heat and knew he could not stop. He took his free hand and jerked her tearstained face up to look at him. The hatred in her eyes glazed over when he smoothly entered her with two long fingers. The stretching surprised her and he felt her contract over him. He began to curve and tickle his fingers inside her.
She could not tear her gaze away from his. For a fleeting moment she remembered her wondering reverie, pondering what he would look like when everything wasn't polished and pomaded. His eyes had dilated to where she could not tell where the irises ended and the pupils began. His hot breath brushed over her lips and she inhaled the cologne that she had only scented in a few stolen moments.
"What's the matter, Ginny? He wouldn't do this for you, is that why you had to take care of yourself? Must be Dean Thomas, he'd never know how to even find a quim."
"It isn't him!" she yelled. He smiled nastily.
"If you can't put your mouth to good use, I'll just have to make it worth my while," he said.
His lips crashed down on hers. Her mouth was already open, gasping from the unwanted dark pleasure that coursed her veins. His tongue captured hers and sucked on it, scraping it with his teeth. She moaned and tried to struggle free. Her movement lifted her hips and only succeeded in driving his fingers deeper.
His thumb flicked her hard as his fingers dragged over the spot within her. A choked yell escaped her lips. She thought she was falling, falling, falling into nothingness. She instinctively grabbed his robe to steady herself. Her nerves shattered and black heat shimmered over her eyes.
Draco's breathing was broken. As he watched Ginny reach completion he tried to memorize her humiliated and flushed face as he drank of her lips one final time. She clutched at his robe and he disentangled himself. He saw her slide to the floor on boneless legs. Her hand flew to her mouth to choke back a sob. Without allowing himself to care he exited the room.
Hours later Ginny tossed and turned in her rumpled sheets. The very center of her ached from Malfoy's onslaught and something else she could not define. Tears leaked hot and dampened the fine hair at her temples. It occurred to her that every time she had cried during their encounter was out of sheer frustration. She always lost the upper hand. She knew she should have been upset, after all, what Draco had done to her was surely grounds for expulsion if she chose to report him. She couldn't muster enough anger.
Why can't you just tell him?
Because he'll torment me either way.
Maybe he'll get tired of the game.
Maybe hell will freeze over.
Draco returned to his room, flushed and sweating. He thanked the gods (and Lucius) for his private room. It meant he wouldn't have to pass Pansy in the common room. He wanted nothing to interfere with his mental replays.
As he stripped he could still sense her lingering scent. He recalled her thick hair giving off its crisp apple smell, the heat from her distressed head releasing it.
As he lay nude on his emerald bedcovers, he reflected on his own anger.
I caught her naked and being naughty.
I want to know!
Maybe I can break her.
Maybe she'll forget she wants to fight me.