Disclaimer: The oh, so lovely Mr Malfoy and other assorted students and staff at Hogwarts does not belong to me, they are all figments of JK Rawlings imagination. Rating: R, I'm serious, there are a lot of naughty words and raging teenage hormones in this fic. If the idea of Draco Malfoy doing the dirty squicks you then turn around before it is too late. To have Draco naked is one of my main criteria for writing.
Warning: Lots of language, baby making activities and violence.
A/N: The seventh thing I changed in the interest of equality. Please drop me a line and tell me what you think.
Other People I Should Mention: Tori Amos, who wrote the lovely song "A Sorta Fairytale".
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A Sorta Fairytale
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Chapter Two: Such Was My Undoing
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He knew exactly when he first noticed her.
It was two years ago, at the Gryffindor quidditch tryouts. He had been there trying to map out the opposition.
It had been raining all afternoon, not a lot, but all the people who had been on the field for hours were still thoroughly drenched.
She hadn't been trying out, just cheering for her brother and Potter.
He had spotted her across the field; she was sitting next to that mud blood, Granger. The two girls had been talking animatedly, smiling and laughing, as two second years demonstrated why it was a bad idea flying without depth-vision.
Granger had placed a small shield around them, keeping them dry. But the girl didn't seem to care, that when she leapt forward shouting out encouragements to her brother, she was no longer protected. Her robes were just as soaked as the players and when they became too heavy from the rain she shrugged them of.
She seemed so carefree, like a child playing in the rain, complete with Granger in the part as the scolding parent. She didn't seem to care though. And as her brother scored, she took Granger's hands, and did a little happy-dance up on the Gryffindor stands.
Later he would wonder exactly what she did that caught his attention. Maybe it was her smile or laughter, more likely a glimpse of her newfound curves. But fact remained the same, after that day he noticed Ginny Weasley. It was almost like a sixth sense, he always knew if she was in the same room.
Two Years.
Two years in which a petite Gryffindor witch made more than one appearance in his dreams. As days, weeks and months passed, he still could not block her out. Every time he saw her, in the corridor, or the hall for dinner, he would feel this unfamiliar twinge in the pit of his stomach, more often than not, it was combined by the more familiar stirring in his trousers.
He watched her.
For Christmas in her fourth year, when she and some other girls managed to charm one of the mud bloods muggle music things to work inside the castle, and then sang and danced to stupid muggle songs in the entrance hall.
He watched her.
That warm September Saturday when all the Gryffindor sixth and seventh year had a picnic by the lake. And her brother almost fainted when she and the mud blood went swimming, in those scraps of cloth that the muggles called swimwear.
He watched her.
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If you asked anyone of the Gryffindor sixth years about Ginny Weasley, they would tell you that she was Ron's baby sister. She had a crush on Harry Potter. She did well in potions and DADA, but hated herbology. They didn't really know who her best friend was, but she was usually with the Dream Team, or Colin Creevey.
Most of it was accurate. She was Ron's younger sister, and she did find Harry Potter attractive. After all, the boy was smart, nice, and had a body to die for. However, she had stopped pining over him after her third year, when it became obvious, that Harry just didn't think of her that way. She didn't really have a best friend at Hogwarts, she was close with Hermione, and she spent a lot of time with Colin. But Hermione had Harry and Ron, and Collin had Dennis. Ginny didn't really mind, she had always been kind of private.
She did like potions and DADA, but her favourite subject was divination. She didn't say that out loud though, as that would send Hermione into a rant of astronomical propositions.
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However she hade a secret none of them knew, not even her brother.
Ginny Weasley had the gift.
She was the seventh child of a seventh child.
She was the Source, the blessed, the cursed; you could take your pick.
It wasn't something that she really spoke about; she had always known that it would happen. Her mother had told her as a child, when she started Hogwarts the headmaster and Professor Trelawney had spoken to her about what to expect. The seventh child of the seventh child was a rare occurrence, especially now.
Her parents had always thought it best to keep it silent, trying to avoid unwanted attention. Not even her brothers knew, they had decided that they should wait for her powers to manifest themselves.
It was always different, but also the same. The source never had any premonitions before sixteen, and then it varied. Some had their first on their sixteenth birthday other when they were 25. There were a lot of theories that some sort of outside influence was needed to release the source.
Ginny had turned 16 this last summer solstice, but had yet to make any predictions. She was actually relieved; after all, they would most likely be about Voldemort or Death eaters. However all thoughts of divination and prediction was gone from her mind that evening.
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Her thighs were sticky from her blood, and his cum. She could feel drops of sweat still making their path down her back. As she climbed the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower, Virginia Weasley mind was spinning.
She and Draco Malfoy had just had sex in the potions room, on professor Snape's desk no less.
She had lost her virginity, and it had felt surprisingly good. After hearing the other girl's tales of pain and blood, Ginny was surprised at how little it had hurt. And then afterwards, when he was inside her, it had been… nice.
She had lost her virginity to Draco Malfoy; the boy Ron swore was the root of all evil. The son of the only man her father truly detested. The boy who had made her life miserable for the past two years.
It was strange, in her first years he had never paid any attention to her. Sure he had insulted her on occasion, but he did that to everyone. But two years ago it had changed; suddenly he seemed to be unable to be in the same room as her without slinging an insult her way. Every time she passed him in the hallway he would comment on her clothes or hair or money. Sometimes he just had her stupid cronies trip her or push her.
As she walked up the stairs she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if her overprotective brothers ever found out…
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She was almost at the top of the stairs when it hit her.
Pain
White hot searing excruciating pain
Every part of her body shook with the force of it. A scream, more like that of a wounded animal than a person wrung itself from her throat, the sound creating echoes of the cool stone walls.
Voices, there where a thousand different voices, each clawing at one another, trying to find their way out of her. She felt as if her mind was wrung open. Someone was pouring red hot lava down her spine.
Her senses were on overload.
All she could feel, all she could hear and see, was that bright light suddenly enveloping her, scorching her skin. And that booming voice, that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"The vessel has been opened"
In some distant part she wondered if she was dying, and a little voice declared it was a good thing she didn't die a virgin.
Then the darkness surrounded her.
She never knew that she was falling, her limp body finally coming to rest at the bottom of the stairs.
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It made a dramatic picture for the seventh year Ravenclaw perfect that found her. A small, fragile body, wrapped in black school robes, her red hair seemed pale in comparison to the crimson blood pooling beneath her.
TBC…
I'm soo evil… Don't worry I'm already writing chapter three.