Author's Notes: The Slytherin's Witch is my beloved orphan fic that I have revised and rewritten and am in the process of completing. I would like to extend my gratitude to all the wonderful readers who supported this story its first time around. Many thanks to Marcia, my beta, who encouraged the idea of resurrecting and completing TSW, and without whom, a delightful task would have turned onerous. Last but not least, much appreciation to Black Alnair, whose love of this fic and enthusiasm pushed me to revive it.
Chapter 1
An Unbelievable, Unmitigated Disaster
Is that all her heart was to him? A piece of filth to be brushed aside? If she hadn't been completely stunned into inaction, she would have had the business end of her wand in his arrogant face, demonic hex at the ready. As it was, it was all the Gryffindor could do to scrape up what was left of that previously beating organ of hers and walk bravely out of the room, without looking back, ever. To hell with him, she thought, still reeling from the blow.
A day later as Ginny Weasley wandered around the Quidditch stadium and past the lake on her way to the castle, she reviewed a certain series of events in her head. It was his fault. He had pursued her. She never once thought of approaching him, not until he accosted her after the Gryffindor/Slytherin match in mid-November. Why would she think of that vile, irritating, pompous, conceited git of a Slytherin in any way other than the Weasley way, with disgust and a touch of pity for his pathetic self?
Oh, she remembered how he nearly fell over himself, running after her and trying to engage her in some sort of pathetic excuse for a conversation. He couldn't carry on a coherent conversation if his life depended on it. Of course, she had ignored the git. What did he take her for, a fool? Well, the Slytherin would be proven right on that one account, only. It was a mistake, she vowed, which would never be repeated, not in this lifetime. She glanced up at the Quidditch goalposts glimmering in the dazzling early summer sun, temporarily blinding her.
When he literally wrestled her to the ground a week later, waylaying her on the way to Herbology, he finally had her complete and undivided attention. She remembered her shock at his request. Thank Merlin she was flat on her back when he asked her or she would have fallen down, probably injuring some vital part of her anatomy in the process. She asked him to repeat himself to be sure she hadn't suffered some type of head injury on the way down which had affected her hearing. That's what she thought he said. He asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him on the upcoming monthly weekend event. Of course, she had laughed in his face before running off to class, wand at the ready. There was no way she would set herself up for such obvious public humiliation at the hands of that sneaky bastard.
The second time he wrestled her to the ground, a week later, she told him if he wanted to speak with her, don't, for Merlin's sake, throw her on the ground again, or he would meet with the business end of her wand in the most unpleasant way possible, no magic necessary. He seemed to understand this and nodded as he helped her up. Would she go on a walk with him?
Was there a bet involved? Were Galleons going to be exchanged after some awful humiliation? He shook his head, staring at her, imploring her with those eerily unnatural silver-grey eyes of his, and for some unknown reason, she believed him. She agreed to his proposition but only under certain strict circumstances involving daylight, her wand at the ready, and his hands kept strictly to himself.
Two days later, she thought their five minute walk had been a great success. Everyone left completely intact, no undue hexes or damage occurred. She thanked the Slytherin and went back to the Great Hall for supper. That, she hoped, would be the end of that.
It wasn't the end of anything. That persistent snake was just getting started. He nagged her and harassed her and stalked her until she was ready to hex him just to get some relief from his infernal pestering. Fine. Yes, she would bloody well meet him in Diagon Alley over the holiday break if he would then kindly sod off for the rest of his sorry life.
Under the guise of Christmas shopping and claiming she was meeting Luna, Ginny stole into Diagon Alley to meet up with the Slytherin. It was Christmas time in the middle of the day in an extremely crowded Diagon Alley. What could possibly happen? Well, that sneaky Slytherin charmed the knickers off one unsuspecting Gryffindor, who, by the end of the day, had put away the business end of her wand for good. When he kissed her goodbye on the cheek, he slipped a small box into the pocket of her cloak, telling her to open it later, when she got home. Well, she tore up the stairs to her room, threw up locking charms so strong even Fred and George would have been proud and took out the box. She stared at it for quite awhile, wondering what in the world the Slytherin could possibly have thought she would like as he didn't know her at all. To her amazement, the most exquisite pearl necklace she had ever laid eyes on poured out into her hand. She had never held anything this elegant or expensive in her entire life. Carefully lifting it up to her neck, she rushed across the room to look in the small mirror hanging on the wall. That was before reality struck a swift blow to her head, helping her remember that she could never accept such an extravagant gift. She tucked it away, intending to return it to the Slytherin when she saw him again after the holidays at Hogwarts. What an unexpected, ridiculously outrageous thing for him to do.
After several weeks away, Ginny really wasn't sure what to expect when she saw the Slytherin again. He waylaid her on the way to Charms their first day back, asking her to meet him outside the Quidditch field that afternoon, after class. He was obviously hurt when she tried to return his gift. He kept shaking his head and pushing it back on her, until the pair nearly got into a fist fight over it. Why did she finally relent and keep the necklace? Because he genuinely wanted her to have it, that's why. Apparently the holidays spent apart had done nothing to dampen his interest in her. Over the next two months, Ginny would come to understand the full powers of the Malfoy charm when they came to bear on one slip of a witch from Gryffindor. He would stop at nothing to win her affection.
He would ambush her at various points in the day just to get his hands on her, she was sure of that. He took to watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practices, much to the dislike of every member on the team, one redheaded Chaser being the exception, and he would escort her back to the castle with her hand-me-down broom over his shoulder. He would constantly surprise her with more ridiculously expensive gifts, until she told him to bloody well knock it off. No, she wasn't for sale, and he didn't need to engage in that kind of silliness for her, either. They spent hours in various abandoned classrooms all over the castle, studying and talking. He never missed an opportunity to tell her how unbelievably beautiful he thought she was and would stare at her endlessly, until she hit him over the head to get him to stop.
No, she never did go to Hogsmeade with the Slytherin that year. After a month of chasing each other around the castle, it became apparent to both that their little liaison was highly unpopular with the remainder of the students. Slytherins and Gryffindors, in particular, were not amused. He no longer came to her Quidditch practices. She no longer acknowledged him in the halls. They simply passed each other without a sideways or a backwards glance.
However, three staircases, two corridors and one hiding place away, the two were firmly wrapped up in each other. One simple kiss from him would set her entire body on fire in a way she never knew possible. As soon as that trap door swung silently shut with a firm locking charm in place, she threw herself at him with abandon. He held her and adored her and made unbelievable love to her, until she could think no more, until she could breathe no more, until she could only collapse onto him. She remembered how his body trembled in her arms, how he whispered those crazy endearments in her ear, and how he swore to her his love was forever. Forever.
She sighed, pushing errant strands of silk out of her face as she threw another rock into the lake. No, it didn't skip. It sank straight to the bottom. She sat on the ground, knees drawn up, arms tucked firmly around her legs, staring out at the mirror-like black water, wondering vaguely if the Giant Squid ate Gryffindors for lunch. She decided that the Giant Squid was most likely a vegetarian, and that only a certain Slytherin ate Gryffindors for lunch, probably belching like a troll afterwards.
She supposed five months could feel like forever to a particular sorry excuse for a sentient magical being. How could she have been so incredibly foolish and naive? All he had to do was turn on a little of that Malfoy charm, throw a few expensive trinkets her way, and she threw herself at him like a completely wanton cow. She buried her face in her arms, groaning.
He used her, unbelievably used her, and then dumped her like a rainy picnic in July. She closed her eyes, seeing his gorgeous figure in front of her, his arms around her, his deliciously warm lips covering her face as he whispered worshipping words to her. Of course, she didn't believe it possible, even while it was happening, for a wizard as beautiful as the Slytherin to be interested in her freckled self. That was the amazing part. He took her, disbelieving, into his arms and made her believe. He made her believe that all he could see was her, all he could feel was her, and all he would ever want was her. She was more than he could ever expect, much less deserve. He made her feel as if he were the unworthy one. What an unbelievable, unmitigated disaster of a farce.
When Ginny Weasley caught the Hogwarts Express home that year, she was forever a changed witch. Gone were her innocent eyes and star struck heart. She was absolutely heartbroken and hurting in a fashion she never knew existed. Of course she hated the Slytherin with every fibre of her being that wasn't busy aching and yearning for him. He was everywhere she looked, in everything she felt, and she could hardly stand to be alive, so unrelenting was her particular kind of hell. How did one move on with one's life after being struck down by such grief? She no longer cared if she lived or died. Her entire world had gone black.
If she had known what she was giving him when she gave it to him, she would have been much more careful with such a treasure, but it was gone. He had stolen her heart and ran away with it, crushing it beneath his boot before she could grab it back. Now it was lost somewhere out there, unwanted, uncared for, and most likely forgotten. She sighed. If and when she retrieved that heart of hers, she vowed to put magical wards around it so powerful it would be absolutely impenetrable.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. -fallenwitch
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