Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to JKR.
Warning: Adult themes, graphic violence, some sexual references.
A/N: This chapter is going to be about as graphic as I will get in terms of sex scenes, which isn't really much, as you will see. Having said that, it is still enough for this story to be R rated, so please don't read it if it offends you.
Feast for A Dark Appetite
Ginny stared at the man before her, eyes riveted to the waxy face with the gleaming red slits for eyes that had always chilled her heart. It was the face of nightmares, and no matter how brave she thought she was, there was no denying that right now she felt like a wounded bird caught in the sharp, merciless claws of a cruel cat; completely helpless and completely terrified.
The door closed behind her, sealing them in the room together with an ominous bang. Her eyes flickered to his in fear, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest with the deep sense of foreboding rising inside her. There was no doubt that he wanted something with her, but what it was she could not say. He had not made any move to do anything to her; instead he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, an expression of deep satisfaction creeping onto his snake-like face.
"Ah yes," he whispered to himself, still with his eyes shut and a slow smile curling his lips. "I can feel the power sleeping inside you." His eyes opened again, falling on her face with a covetous gleam. "You have no idea how truly special you are, Ginevra."
Confused, and feeling more than a little frightened, Ginny eyed him warily, a crease forming on her brow. "What are you talking about?"
He laughed lightly and walked slowly towards her, his eyes gleaming sinisterly in the soft candlelight. "Exactly what I mean. You don't understand your magic at all, but I," his eyes darkened with a lustful fervour, "I have seen what your power can do!"
Alarmed by his proximity, Ginny instinctively backed away from him until her back hit against the wall. Her eyes darted up to his nervously, meeting his hungry expression in sudden trepidation. He was practically devouring her with his gaze, and the predatory smile curling his lips did nothing to ease her panic.
She pressed herself further up against the wall, almost as if hoping the cold concrete would swallow her whole and take her away from the disgusting man before her, but the wall remained stubbornly solid. She was trapped.
Voldemort moved closer and stopped before her, allowing one pale finger to stroke her cheek; sending unpleasant shivers to prickle up her spine. Her body seemed to become paralysed from his touch, freezing her into place, although she desperately wanted to push him away. She couldn't stand the feel of his cold skin touching hers. He felt like ice, as if his touch was the very touch of death itself.
"I have waited for this moment for such a long time," he whispered, trailing his fingers down her neck caressingly, while keeping his eyes firmly locked on hers. "Ever since I realised who you were I knew that I had to find you, and now you're finally here."
"W-what are you going to do to me?"
He laughed softly, the sound sending another chill down Ginny's spine, and stepped back from her to move towards the far table. Ginny let out a breath of relief, glad that he was no longer leaning over her, and tried to pull her trembling body together; her eyes warily following the tall man's movements.
"I admit it did not come to me at first," confessed Voldemort, settling himself comfortably down on the chair. "At first I thought I could manipulate you into serving me, but then that does little to help me, now doesn't it? You would still hold all that power yourself, and I did not want that. I knew I had to come up with another idea, and then it came to me…"
Ginny stared at him in growing apprehension, feeling the deep sense of foreboding inside her only increasing with each word he spoke. She knew that she did not want to hear what he was going to say next, but she had little power to stop it.
"You see, Ginevra," continued Voldemort in a pleasant voice, "there are only three people on this Earth who carry ancient magic in their veins. You are one of those people, as am I, and the other is my servant, Draco Malfoy. Unlike you and I, however, his power was given to him while he was still a baby and not at birth, and that power cannot be used through the means of spells and enchantments. He is, in effect, a living force of dark magic;" Voldemort chuckled to himself, "You could almost say that he is an enchantment, and that, Ginevra, is where I realised how I could manipulate your magic to my advantage."
"I don't understand," said Ginny warily, watching him with a frown creasing her brow. He was speaking in riddles to her, but something about what he was saying struck a chord with her. She realised now that the memory she had seen in Draco's mind must have been the ritual when he had been given his 'ancient magic', but what on earth did Voldemort mean by the Death Eater being a living force of dark magic, and what did that have to do with her?
Voldemort smiled at her bewilderment. "Think of it this way. If Draco can be considered a form of dark magic, what would be the effect if I used that magic on you? You would be cursed, just as you would if I had used any other spell, but because his magic is special, the effects are much different to any normal curse."
"What are you saying?" Ginny demanded, not liking the sound of this at all. It was all so confusing, but she knew that he was telling the truth. There was no reason for him to lie, after all.
"It's really quite simple. By cursing the root I will be cursing the fruit, and every seed that could come from that fruit. Draco's magic works like an innate curse; it touches and corrupts everything vulnerable to it, and as you have already been tainted by dark magic, you are even more susceptible to the powers of his magic than you would have been had you not. His magic could have a myriad of effects on you, even eventually kill you, but what I do know is that your womb will be cursed upon contact with him, allowing you to produce the most powerful dark mage this world has ever seen. There would be no surpassing the magic of a child born from a witch such as you, as part, if not all, of your magic would pass on to your child. Imagine, then, how powerful that child would be if enhanced with Draco's own dark magic!"
"And how do you hope to gain from that?" demanded Ginny, sensing a flaw in his grand scheme. "Surely it cannot help you if my child has all that power and you do not; the situation is just the same as it is now."
Voldemort smiled slightly and stood up from his chair, moving towards her with careless grace. "Have you ever wondered why witches were stigmatised as having sexual relations with the devil?"
Ginny shook her head, put on edge once again by his sudden movement. "I thought it was just Muggles exaggerating things," she admitted cautiously.
"In some ways, yes, but it is true that it was once a common practise for witches to offer themselves to the darkest of wizards in order to have his magic planted inside them through the means of a child. Once the child had been born, the witches could sacrifice the baby by using the ritual of the Hadem Rhi, empowering them with an even greater magic than what they had wielded previously. However, nothing but the purest of dark magic can enhance inherited magic to shape it into becoming greater and darker, and, as you know, only Draco holds this certain type of magic."
He stopped in front of her, his nightmarish face as emotionless as a waxwork. "Not even I could shift the attributes of a baby's magic from neutral to dark, even with all my learning, but then my magic is not as pure as his. It is for that same reason I knew I could not take on the stone's power myself all those years ago. I would have died that day-as would any other wizard who had tried to claim the magic of the stone-but Draco was born with just the right requirements needed for his soul to withstand the power of the stone's magic; allowing him to take the magic upon himself as a living part of him. He is the stone, just as the stone is a part of him; they cannot be separated, or both will be destroyed."
Ginny almost felt sorry for Draco upon discovering this, remembering the way he had reacted to reliving that memory in her cell. He had been so frightened by what he had seen, and she realised now it must have been the confusion he felt in not understanding why such a thing was in his mind. She wondered if he knew what Voldemort had really done to him.
Her sympathy could not last long. Though Draco's situation was indeed pitiful, his character was enough for her to banish feeling any more sorry for him than she needed to. He delighted in evil, had taken satisfaction in her pain, and seemed to have an insatiable appetite for power. It almost seemed fitting that he should be a living curse, for in a way he already was a curse to her.
Something about Voldemort's words troubled her though. She had a feeling she knew what Voldemort was asking of her now, but she still hoped that she might be wrong. From what he had said about the witches, however, she was unsure how she could be.
"Think about it, Ginevra," Voldemort continued in a voice of seductive persuasion. "You have the potential to create a magic this world has never seen. Even the four founders of Hogwarts never wielded such power. You would be making history!"
"Making history, yes, but at what cost? You must be insane if you think I would consent to such a thing!" spat Ginny, her eyes burning with hate and disgust.
"My dear, you should be grateful I am only asking this of you. Believe me," Voldemort assured her, a sinister smile flittering across his lips as his white teeth gleamed in the firelight. "I could do much worse."
Ginny shook her head. "You've taken everything from me, and now you expect me to obediently bow to you, allowing some heartless monster to impregnate me, and then, if you please, I must meekly hand over my child at the end of it all so you can sacrifice it for your own greed? I don't think so!"
Voldemort closed his eyes, his patience thinning. "This is the second time I have been refused now. I warn you my patience is not infinite. I cannot force Draco to do my wishes-" his face contorted in cold frustration- "He has a stubbornness I did not perceive, and I cannot afford to risk the sanity of his mind or his physical health by punishing him further. You, on the other hand, I know I can break."
"You're wasting your time!" retorted Ginny, feeling quite emboldened in her anger. It was a foolhardy thing to refuse the Dark Lord, but she was furious with what he had said and was in no mood to be grovelling at his feet. "Perhaps you should just give up now, since it seems clear that Malfoy doesn't want me anymore than I want him."
Voldemort's eyes flashed with an intense concentration of malice. "Oh no, Ginevra, you will do this for me. If I cannot force him to take you, then I will force you to take him. Either way, I am going to get that child!"
Before Ginny even knew what was happening, she was writing on the floor in pain, clutching her head where scorching needles pierced her skin from the Cruciatus curse. It was a pain beyond pain; an unbearable torture that seemed to pierce her very soul with its agonising touch. She would have done anything in that moment to make it stop.
Voldemort removed the curse and stared coldly down at her trembling, battered body, not a trace of pity in his eyes. "Now then, perhaps you would like to reconsider your decision?"
Ginny shakily pushed herself up off the ground, tears trailing down her face, and stared up at the cruel, unfeeling man before her. He would probably try to keep torturing her until she gave in-and a part of her wanted to give up now, if only to ensure that she would never feel such pain again-but at the same time she could see that she was far too important for him to batter too badly. Like Draco, he needed her, and that gave her some leverage and at least put her in a more secure and safer position.
Physical pain she could handle, but losing her innocence and bearing the child of her sworn enemy made her feel far more sick than the excruciating pain the torture had inflicted her with. How could she ever willingly allow that foul creature that had murdered her brother to give her a child? It was unthinkable. She just couldn't do it, no matter how terrified and wounded she felt.
"I will never help you," she spat hatefully, glaring up at him through malevolent eyes. "You'll just have to kill me."
Voldemort knelt down in front of her and grasped her chin firmly with his long fingers. His eyes sought out hers, forcing her to meet his cold, composed gaze. "You will help me, Ginevra, because I am going to give you no choice. I can see into your mind as clearly as I am looking into your face right now, and I have seen your weaknesses. You are far too open, my dear, and that will cost you."
He smiled grimly then and shifted his hand from her face to grab a handful of her hair, yanking her up to her feet. Ginny stumbled weakly after him, tears escaping her eyes from the stinging pain shooting through her scalp, and was dragged roughly out of the room.
She twisted against his hold, shouting insults and gasping in pain, but Voldemort held her tight and pulled her deeper through the dark twisting corridors until they came to a set of wooden doors.
He stopped and roughly yanked her face down so that she was looking up at him, his eyes glinting menacingly down into her face."Do you know what is in this room?" he asked in a surprisingly pleasant voice, despite the ruthless hold he had on her hair.
Ginny shook her head, her vision blurring with tears.
"Then I'll tell you. Through these doors are the scum of my followers; they are the kind of men who would take great delight in giving you their own personal welcome." His red eyes gleamed maliciously, taking in her youthful face and the soft, feminine curves of her body. "Oh yes, Ginevra, they would take great pleasure in you."
Her eyes widened in horror, realising what he was implying. She stared at the closed door, hearing men laughing and talking from within, and felt her stomach clench up painfully in revulsion. Not for a moment did she doubt the truth of Voldemort's words. She remembered all too well how eager Baldren had been to rape her, and she knew there were probably many more just like him in that room. Just because Draco chose not to rape his prisoners did not mean that the others would be so courteous.
"Think wisely," warned Voldemort, watching her closely through his nightmarish eyes. "I will not give you another chance. One more word of denial on your lips and I'll leave you to the wolves beyond those doors to do with you what they will. You are not so precious to me as you think, though I do admit that I want the magic you store in abundance inside you. However, my need is not great. I am already the greatest sorcerer alive, even with you and Draco's presence on the earth, and as he-despite his fits of rebelliousness-can still be controlled, it would be nothing to me to kill you after letting my men have their fill of you."
His eyes gleamed sinisterly down at her. "You are only useful to me, Ginevra, depending on how far you are willing to cooperate. I do not keep people who burden me for no reason. I am not a merciful man."
Ginny let out a shaky breath, still staring at the heavy doors. This was it. She now had the choice in obeying Voldemort and having a child with Draco Malfoy-a man she hated with all her bitter heart-or she could refuse the Dark Lord once again and probably suffer the painful rape of a whole gang of Death Eaters before suffering an equally painful death. Either way she was going to lose the last shred of innocence she had in this world of nightmares.
She clenched her fists and turned her blazing gaze back on Voldemort. "What do you want me to do?"
Voldemort smiled pleasantly. "I knew you would come around eventually."
Ginny said nothing. She was practically shaking with fury in knowing what she would have to do, but she had accepted defeat-at least for now. It was better to be with one man she hated and still live than be raped by several and die. Voldemort knew this; that was why he had brought her here in the first place. He knew that she was not the kind to give up through physical torture, no matter how much he hurt her, but desperation could drive a person to do anything, and the threat of being raped by several men was enough to drive anyone to desperation.
Reaching into his pocket, Voldemort pulled out a small bottle filled with a misty blue potion and handed it to her. "Drink this, and then Lara shall take you to a room where you will be bathed and clothed. If I know Draco, he will refuse you immediately, but I have faith that you can change his mind with the right persuasion." A twisted smile curled his lips. "You know what will happen if you don't, and just to make sure-"
He yanked open her robe, bearing her naked body, and-still clutching her by the hair-pushed opened the doors and dragged her into the room, where all the men paused in what they were doing and turned to discover who had intruded.
The sudden hoots of glee and crude comments that erupted upon the men realising a beautiful, practically naked woman, was now standing amidst them almost deafened Ginny, and she could feel the hungry eyes burning into her bare flesh in a ravenous way that made her skin crawl distastefully. One of them made a rude movement at her with his body, giving no illusions on what it was he wanted to do with her, and feeling increasingly sick, Ginny had to close her eyes and will the disgusting voices to fade into oblivion.
"Now you know what your options are," said Voldemort from somewhere up above her spinning head. "And believe me, I will know if you have failed at your task."
Ginny's eyes flashed angrily, knowing very well what he meant by that. "I understand," she said bitterly, clenching the potion in her hand. "I will not fail you."
OOOO
However little Ginny desired to think about the upcoming mission placed on her, she could not deny that the sight of a welcoming hot bath had done much to restore her spirits. She had not washed in nearly five days, and the mud, grease, blood and grime that caked her body and hair had only added to her frustrations. Now, as she lay relaxing in the steamy waters of the bath, watched over by the strange, almost eccentric, Death Eater Lara, Ginny felt strangely calm.
So little seemed to matter to her in that moment and yet she was conscious of a dull ache in her heart that would not go away. She kept feeling like she was betraying everyone by helping Voldemort, and it almost seemed like all the ghostly voices of her family were ganging up on her in her mind, accusing her of being selfish and a coward.
I have no choice, Ginny thought to herself, more to alleviate some of her own guilt and stop the incessant accusations than because she really believed it. She was doing what she thought was right, but she knew that there was still the choice not to help Voldemort. There was always a choice; it was just a question of figuring out which was the better and having the courage to go through with it.
Ginny wondered if this was what Harry had felt like when he had been faced with the discovery that he held the world's fate in his hands. Did he also experience the unexplainable weight crushing his chest, knowing that whatever decision he made could either help them win or lose the war?
Faced with such a dilemma, Ginny wasn't sure if she was ready to take up such a responsibility. She was not as selfless as Harry-try as she might-and could not bring herself to let go of her own fear and feelings for the sake of others. She knew very well that she was now a key in divining the fate of the Wizard World, as was Draco, and through her actions tonight, she could potentially destroy what little hope they had left for victory.
However-and this was what she was counting on-by following through with this heinous act she may yet discover a way to use it to her advantage. There was no knowing what lay in the future, and even the greatest of seers could not predict everything accurately. It was all chance, and Ginny was more than willing to try her chances if it meant escaping the demoralising punishment she would have had to face if she had refused. Surely people would understand?
Besides, forcing Draco to give her a child was more than harsh punishment for her. It killed her inside to know that she was actually willingly going to try and force a man who hated her to have sex with her, for Voldemort had given little doubt that Draco was very against the plan. She wondered why, not really understanding any of the motives that drove Draco to behave the way he did. He was an enigma to her-more so than the Dark Lord who she at least understood somewhat.
Her eyes fell on the blue bottle sitting innocently on the table next to the bath, and once again she pondered over what potion could possibly be in it. She had sniffed it earlier and had discovered a pleasantly sweet smell of honey and juniper. It seemed unlikely that Voldemort would poison her, and yet she could not deny that the tiny bottle made her feel just a little anxious.
"Merlin, girlie, you do take you time!" exclaimed Lara impatiently, apparently having had enough with just standing and watching Ginny bathe. "Stop your worrying over things and get that dirt and grime off your body. If you're hoping to seduce the young Malfoy brat, you're going to have to look a lot better than what you do now. He's not someone to accept the dregs just because they've been offered to him."
Ginny felt just a little offended at that. Was Lara calling her dregs? Then again, Lara was very beautiful; much more beautiful than Ginny could ever hope to aspire to be that was for sure.
Lara's hair was long, silky, and a rich brown that forced her fierce blue eyes to stand out even more. Her creamy skin was flawless, except for the skull tattoo imprinted into her left forearm, and nature seemed to have designed her body with the goddess Venus in mind. No one could be proportioned so perfectly as Lara, but Ginny did not feel jealous as she might have. It seemed so trivial to worry about things like that now.
Sighing heavily, Ginny absently washed the dirt out of her hair and cast weary brown eyes up to the older woman. "I doubt anything I do will get him to have me. I am not experienced in such matters and I have the disadvantage in being a prisoner that he hates deeply. My chances in seducing him are about as great as my being able to click my fingers and spirit myself out of this dump."
A chuckle escaped the older woman's lips. Ginny decided that she liked it when Lara laughed. It made her seem somehow softer, younger, and more like the woman she was supposed to be rather than the woman war had made her to be.
"You clearly don't know anything about men. No man, not even the most hardened cases, can withstand a pretty face and the inviting offer of a warm body to lie next to."
Lara leaned forward, her eyes taking on a suddenly serious expression that seemed to suggest a state of urgency in her words. "You need to make him believe you want him and you need to freely offer yourself. That is the only way you will ever get him to relent towards you. He is still young, not quite experienced in these matters as he would like to think, and has all the disadvantages of being a hormonal young man stuck in a war surrounded mostly by brutish men."
Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Play your cards right on this one, girlie, and you'll get him. He's a passionate man, that Malfoy. I have a feeling he will not be able to resist you for too long; you just have to make sure you seize the chance when it is offered to you."
Ginny nodded her head, drinking in this wise wisdom without question. She frowned suddenly and looked up at the older woman with a curious expression on her face. "Why are you helping me so much?"
Lara tossed her hair over her shoulders. "Are you so sure I am helping you? Perhaps I am merely ensuring the success of my Master's plan." She smiled enigmatically and levelled her blue gaze on Ginny. "You can never know for sure, and that, Ginevra, is why I recommend you not to trust anyone more than you need to. I am no threat to you now, but I would not hesitate to hurt you if you gave me a reason to. Are we understood?"
Ginny nodded, though she still sensed that Lara was not as malicious as the others. Cynical, yes, but she was not malicious. Still, she was just as enigmatic as Draco, with her cryptic phrases and odd ways.
Still curious about the strange woman before her, Ginny once again looked up at her inquisitively. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?" said Lara shortly, losing some of her confiding tones with a return to her natural impatience.
"Why do you serve the Dark Lord?"
Ginny thought it prudent not to use Voldemort's name. It had occurred to her a long time ago that Death Eaters got unreasonably cross when one did.
"Why do you serve the Order?" retorted Lara, not batting an eyelid.
Ginny did not hesitate. "Because they fight for justice and the good of our people."
Lara smiled slightly. She seemed to have expected no less.
"You have just answered your own question, Ginevra, and now I think our confidences are at an end. If you want to catch Draco before the morrow, you should go to him now. He is resting in his room. I shall take you there, if you like."
Ginny nodded again, though still not satisfied with Lara's answer; knowing that the woman was not telling her the full truth.
She quickly dried herself with the offered towel and then slipped into a loose robe of black fabric (though thankfully this one was clean) and picked up the bottle from the table.
For a moment Ginny just stared at the tiny bottle in her hands, and then throwing caution to the winds, uncorked the stopper and downed the whole lot. It tasted vilely sweet, despite its pleasant scent, and reminded Ginny of jelly lollies over-coated with sugar.
Pulling a face of distaste, she pocketed the empty bottle and then quite suddenly felt a soft flutter of warmth pass through her abdomen. Her hand instinctively felt the region, but the feeling faded as quickly as it had come.
Vaguely she recalled reading about just such an effect from her healing classes, but she could not remember what the potion had been called. It had something to do with the moon, and-
Ginny abruptly paused in her thoughts, the answer slamming into her mind with such sickening force that she actually recoiled. It had been a fertility potion, created to ensure that a child would be produced no matter what complications arose. Voldemort had been well prepared indeed.
"Guess there's no turning back now," muttered Ginny to herself, following Lara out of the room.
OOOO
Draco lay on the top of his bed in nothing but a loose pair of black pants, one arm draped over his eyes and the other resting casually against his bare stomach. His body was still tingling unpleasantly from the torture he had gone under the day before, but he could at least take some comfort that he was no longer wincing with every movement he made. His mind, however, was far from easy. There was a deep bitterness twisting inside him, only added to by the knowledge of how much he was being used by his master.
If Voldemort had never used that stone to place the dark magic inside him, Draco knew that he would not be trapped in this situation. There would be no need for him to degrade himself and rape a girl he wanted nothing to do with, but that stupid stone had forced him to take on the role as her corrupter-if he so desired to go through with it that is.
According to his master, the stone gave him the ability to curse her womb with dark magic, giving the child she would bear powers far beyond what any could imagine. It would be an awe-inspiring sight, but Draco felt far too bitter to let it happen.
He and Ginny were both being used-he for the magic that had been given to him through the stone, and she for the powerful magic that lived inside her. Voldemort wanted both of their magic for himself, but Draco was not going to give it to his master if he had any say on the matter.
If Voldemort had been stupid enough to give Draco powerful magic at birth, thinking that he could control him like some mindless puppet, he was well and truly wrong and Draco would stop at no lengths to learn all about his powers and use them against the master who had so foolishly given them to him. He did not serve his master out of fear or out of blind worshipfulness; he served his master because he wanted power, and power he would have.
Right now Draco knew he was too weak to go down his own path, but, like a parasite, he bided his time, slowly leeching off the power Voldemort's protection gave until he knew that the time was right to deal the final blow.
Yes, Voldemort had made a grave mistake in telling Draco about the secret powers placed on him at birth, and an even bigger mistake in explaining Ginny's importance in the grand scheme of things; for if Draco ever did give in to the Dark Lord's command, it would not be to dutifully hand over the child to his master afterwards for the sacrificial ritual. Draco would take that magic himself before he let anyone else have it-that was just the way he was.
Even now he found the thought of wielding such magic tempting, and the only thing stopping him was his own scruples. He would not force her to give him a child. It just seemed too degrading to lower himself into raping a woman for power, no matter how seductive that power may be.
Draco heard the sound of the door handle turning and lifted his arm away from his eyes to glare at whoever was stupid enough to disturb him, only to see none other than Ginevra Weasley herself walk into the room. His eyes narrowed, watching as she shut the door behind her and advanced purposely towards him.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, standing up from the bed to stare at her suspiciously. She was a prisoner; she was not supposed to be wandering around wherever she liked, let alone in his room. Her sudden arrival could not be a coincidence, but Draco was in no mood to entertain Voldemort's whims right now.
Ginny paused in front of him, knowing reluctantly what she had to do, and silently reached one shaking hand up to her chest to undo the clasp that held her robe together. The thick material fell to the ground in a bundle at her feet, leaving her standing utterly naked before him, and it took all of her self-control not to give into the tears that were threatening to fall.
She was not foolish enough to let her weakness show. Lara had been right in saying that she needed to show him that she wanted him. If he really did despise the thought of raping a girl, he would never so much as touch her if he thought she was unwilling.
Goosebumps slithered up her skin with the cool rush of air, but she did not rub her arms to ease the warmth back into her flesh. Instead she just stood there silently before him, her eyes locked on the grey ones before her, and desperately trying with all her might to keep her expression devoid of disgust and fear so as not to betray her natural feelings.
Draco swallowed hard, unable to ignore the tempting picture she presented and the heated feelings she was creating inside him, but at the same time he felt a sudden surge of anger pass through his veins. Just what game was she playing at? Did she honestly think he was foolish enough to fall for such a cheap trick? He had far more self-control than that.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded in an angry voice, only heightened by the natural frustration in having to suffer the full force of restraining himself in front of her alluring proximity. "Put some damn clothes on now and get out!"
Realising that Voldemort had been right in saying Draco would refuse her, Ginny decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. She swallowed her revulsion and silently took his hand in hers, placing it firmly against her naked breast. Her eyes did water a bit then, but she managed to disguise her conflicted emotions by channelling her determined desire to get through this into her gaze, creating a captivating effect of fierceness and yet vulnerable sadness.
For a moment Draco was stunned out of his initial anger. He could feel her heart rapidly beating against his palm and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, very conscious of where exactly his hand was resting. His eyes darted to hers, pulled into the mesmerising torrent of emotions swirling in the chestnut of her eyes, and if he hadn't known better, he would have said that she had somehow caught him in some terrible enchantment.
He felt trapped, as if in a trance, so that he could do no more than stare into her dangerously captivating eyes with no thought or feeling beyond the woman before him. Was it really possible she could have such an effect over him? She, a woman he despised with all his bitter heart.
Wordlessly she moved his hand along her body, allowing him to feel the seductive softness of her bare flesh, her eyes inviting him to take his pleasure in her where her heart refused him. It was all too tempting, and being just a man, Draco could feel the very real yearning to satisfy his lusts; yet even amongst all the heady feelings he was experiencing, he could still recognise the wrongness of the situation.
This wasn't right. She was not supposed to behave this way, and he had no doubt that Voldemort had put her up to this; though how his master had succeeded was a mystery to Draco.
He wanted to push her away; he wanted to scream at her, but his tongue had been silenced and his body paralysed by the power of her body and eyes.
It was his own male weakness that made him surrender to her charms, though he desperately tried to fight the feelings growing inside him. He hated to lose control, and he knew that right now he was losing what little rational thought he had left. It had been too long since he had been with a woman, and he could not deny that her offer was extremely enticing to him right now.
"Just give in," she whispered softly, moving his hand down to caress her hips.
Those words seemed to trigger something in Draco's mind and abruptly he pushed her away from him, an expression of real panic flittering across his face. "No!" he shook his head and took a step back from her. "I don't want this!"
Sensing that she was about to lose him, Ginny quickly took a step forward and kissed him full on the lips, pressing her body hard up against his. She was too desperate to let him come to his senses, afraid of Voldemort keeping his promise in giving her to the other men, and knew that if she ruined things now she would never get that chance again. She had to seduce him into sleeping with her, even if it killed her to do it.
Draco groaned against her lips, unable to handle it any longer, and returned her kiss with a sudden fervour. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, the other wrapping around her waist to pull her even closer; deepening the kiss until Ginny herself began to lose her calculating control with the dizzying rush of pleasure spreading through her body.
Up until this point she had acted with the knowledge that she was simply trying to seduce him so that she would not have to suffer Voldemort's other form of punishment, but now, as she felt his lips trail down her neck in burning hot kisses, the reasons for why she had started this dangerous game of seduction began to blur in her mind, and the seducer became the seduced.
Her eyes slid shut in pleasure, her hands clutching at his back instinctively, while feeling his own hands caressing her bare flesh in hungry lust. She felt strangely exhilarated by it all, and was quickly losing her head to the overpowering desire burning within her. It was all so new and intense, and even she was not immune to the intoxicating feelings pure physical contact could give.
He once again claimed her lips with an electrifying kiss; causing what little rational thought she had left to slip away from her grasp. It no longer seemed to matter that she hated this man or that he had hurt her; nothing seemed to matter to her anymore. She was lost to all sense, her brain clouded with the lustful yearnings of her body, and she knew she would not be satisfied until she had immersed herself in him.
Pulling her down with him onto the bed, Draco moved on top of her and fumbled with his pants to remove the rest of his clothes, all the while letting his lips silently speak of his growing need.
Ginny looped her arms around him, running her hands across his bare back, while returning his impassioned kisses with enthusiasm. She just couldn't get enough of him, or, rather, she could not get enough of the feelings he was arousing inside of her, and was just as anxious for him to lose the clothing that stopped their bare skin from meeting.
Finally having removed the last of his clothing, Draco pulled his lips away from hers and stared down at her through eyes darkened with desire. He knew that he was insane to do this, but he could not stop himself now. He was already lost to her, and though he knew that he was doing just as Voldemort wanted-for he had already gathered that his master had sent her here in the hopes that she would seduce him-he found that very little of that mattered to him right now.
Ginny trailed her hand up his back and ran her fingers through his hair, bringing his face back down to claim his lips with her own. Any hesitation Draco might have felt quickly melted away, and the game of seduction finally drew to a close as the two enemies became one.
OOOO
The room was bathed in shadows. Ginny could hear the steady breathing from the man beside her, though it was not even enough for him to be asleep. She was glad he had not spoken to her, and nor had he demanded she leave straight away. He had simply rolled onto his back and stared up at the roof, lost in his own thoughts that she would never be privy to, ignoring her completely.
Ginny rolled over the other way and curled her trembling body into a defensive ball, biting on her fist to stifle a dry sob that threatened to escape from her tainted lips. A sickly feeling was twisting inside her, clenching her stomach between cruel fingers of guilt and revulsion, and her eyes, that burned with her own disgust, wept tears of sorrow for the death of her innocence.
Now that she was no longer lost to the heady lust that had ensnared her mind, she felt the full reality of what she had done hit her with a staggering force.
It was one thing to sleep with a man she despised to save herself from further punishment, but to actually enjoy it? That was just sickening, and with the realisation of her own betrayal, a sudden surge of hate swept over her-hate for herself and for the man who had caused such dark lust to twist her thoughts.
How could she have betrayed herself like this? How could she have enjoyed what he had done to her? Was she really that twisted enough to take delight in the physical pleasure a monster like him could give? This man had killed her brother, wounded her pride and her spirit, and yet she had willingly, even desperately, moaned out his name in dark pleasure with the orgasmic rush her body had experienced-a far cry from the businesslike manner she had first started this disgusting seduction with.
Perhaps she was the monster? Perhaps she was the one with no decency and no feeling? She was the one who had agreed to seduce him, after all, and had pushed him to the point of defeat even with him saying no. She was the one who had taken dark delight in his touch and his kiss, though she had not needed to.
All of it was her choice, and she was ashamed and disgusted to admit that even now she still felt that dark attraction for the man next to her.
Voldemort had been right. Draco had corrupted her. He had corrupted her body, her soul and her mind. She was contaminated with more than just his magic; she was contaminated with him.
Something had changed inside her. It was like a part of her goodness had died along with her innocence, and try as she might, she could not find that light inside her again. All she felt was darkness; all she saw was a looming blackness stretching out forever in her bleak horizon. There was no hope of returning to that girl she used to be-she had been lost forever.
Ginny knew she would never be able to face those she loved again. If they ever knew what she had done, what she had felt-she could not face their judgment. They would never understand why, for even she did not understand it, and she could not bear to see their smiles turn to disgust. They would look upon her as some common whore, and the sad thing was that she knew that was exactly what she was. She had sold her body to Voldemort, given in to the physical pleasure Draco had given her, and revelled in the satiating of her dark lust with indecent satisfaction. What hope did she possibly have in being forgiven after that?
Tears choked her throat and slipped freely down her cheeks. She thought of Harry-sweet, selfless Harry-and felt even more pained in her heart. He would never love her now. How could he, knowing that she had slept with his enemy and enjoyed it? It would be too much to ask, and in a way she felt like she didn't deserve him now. He was far too good for her-far too pure for her tainted soul.
Her body started trembling even more and a small sob escaped her lips, which she quickly smothered with her hand, gritting her teeth together until it hurt. She had not been fast enough to stop Draco from noticing, however, and felt him shift as he sat up in the bed, his piercing gaze burning into her back.
Draco made a scornful noise in his throat. "Isn't it just like a woman to cry over something she caused herself."
Ginny only sniffed.
Draco rolled his eyes and glared down at his hands. No doubt she was sitting there blaming him for everything, but he'd be damned if he let her turn this back on him. He had not asked her to enter his room, nor had he demanded she take off her clothes and force her to let him touch her. She had done it all of her own accord, and he didn't care what persuasions Voldemort had used on her; she had still brought this upon herself.
If anyone was the victim here it was him, which was about as laughable as the fact that the woman who had seduced him was now crying over it. He couldn't believe that he had actually given in to her, but he could not deny that there was something about her that no one woman he had met possessed.
Perhaps it was an effect of the magic burning inside her, but there was a fire in her eyes that he found hard to ignore. She was fierce, but there was more than fierceness to her. She was just so alive, and becoming one with her had been like becoming one with all the colours of the world. His soul had been opened to see beyond the dull and dark, immersing in the beauty painted within her; like a blind man viewing the world for the first time.
It had been nothing like anything he had experienced before, and he had been with women enough to know what he should have felt.
Was it possible that he had come into contact with the very same power Voldemort so desperately wanted? Was that bliss he had experienced inside her the key to causing the destruction of all that was good in the world? Could such beauty really cause so much misery?
Draco's eyes swivelled back to her trembling form, watching her in silent scrutiny. His curse was already inside her, but no one knew what the true effects of that curse would be. The only surety was that their child would be born with powerful dark magic.
Their child.
Strange. Draco had not really thought about it in that way before. He had heard Voldemort talk about it of course, but he had never really considered the child as his own. Now, however, he realised for the first time that the child was going to be a part of him too. He wasn't sure how that made him feel.
Draco sighed and leaned his head back against the headboard. Never did he think he would find himself in such a situation. If he had the choice to go back and erase what had happened, he knew that he would without hesitating. It had been a mistake on his part-a moment of weakness that he knew he would live to regret for the rest of his life-and because of this one mistake his life would never be the same.
"Tell me something," Draco said softly to the shadowed room. "What did Voldemort do to make you do this?"
"What does it matter?" came the bitter reply.
Draco fell silent. He supposed it didn't really matter; he was just curious to know what could have driven a woman who despised him so much to willingly seduce him. There was no doubt that Voldemort had been the perpetrator behind this, and yet, for all her tears and bitterness, he knew that she had enjoyed it just as much as he had.
How strange it was that even hate could be blinded by lust, or was it more than lust? He didn't know; he didn't know anything anymore. She had confused him, and he hated to be confused. His heart was so conflicted now.
Ginny let out another small sob. Draco gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the piteous noise coming from the woman beside him.
Why did she have to keep crying? He couldn't stand it! The soft sounds were so pitiful, sounding no more pathetic than an abandoned kitten desperately meowing for its mother. It made him feel a feeling he had not felt in so long that he had almost forgotten it existed.
Pity.
That couldn't be right. He was not meant to feel sorry for her. She was the one who had trapped him into this situation, and yet-and yet he couldn't deny that somehow he did pity her. Her tears spoke to his heart in words long forgotten, unleashing something weak and disgustingly good. The cold stone he had placed over his heart was finally cracking; chipping away one bit at a time with each small sob she uttered.
Why was this affecting him so much? Why did hearing her cries stir his unfeeling heart?
He'd heard it all so many times before. He'd seen the tears on countless faces, falling from eyes of many different shades and colours; women pleading for him not to kill their children; men begging him on their knees and sobbing their pathetic little hearts out as they clutched his fine robes; and children-those poor, innocent children-that had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, looking up at him through frightened eyes, small sobs catching in their throats, not really daring to believe that he could abandon them to their fates.
Not once had those pathetic cries stirred a shred of pity in his heart. He'd only felt contempt for their weakness. Why then did her sobs trigger those suppressed feelings he had not felt for nearly three years? Why did she pull at his pity when no one else could?
He was known as Draco the merciless; Draco the ruthless, but now that infamous and unfeeling young man was actually feeling pity for a girl he had hated his whole life. It was almost disturbing, and he did not like it one bit. Pity was for the weak, and he was not weak.
Someone knocked at the door.
"What is it?" Draco called out, his eyes still watching Ginny's shadowed form.
"The Dark Lord wishes to see you," Lara's voice replied. "I've come to take the girl back to her cell."
Draco cursed under his breath. "What can he possibly want now?" he muttered darkly to himself, his brow furrowed in frustration.
Knowing that he could not escape this meeting, Draco got out of the bed and pulled on his clothes. His eyes flicked towards Ginny. "You should get dressed. Lara is an impatient woman, and I don't plan to leave you in here."
Ginny wiped the tears from her face and scrambled out of the bed, quickly pulling on her robe again.
"Hurry up!" Lara ordered, giving the door an impatient kick.
"She's coming!" shouted Draco, casting an irritated glare at the door.
Ginny heard him mutter something about impatient women and his loathing of the whole female species in general, and then he turned and looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Don't speak of this to anyone, Weasley. There are a lot of people who would kill to get their hands on you if they knew how important you are to the Dark Lord, and even more if they realised what the child inside you has the potential to do. It's best if you keep all of this to yourself."
Ginny nodded. "I understand."
"Good."
Draco ushered her out of the room and shut the door behind them.
"Took you long enough," muttered Lara, standing with her hands on her hips. "You'd best hurry, Malfoy. The Dark Lord may be gleefully kicking his heels at the success of tonight, but that doesn't mean he's going to be any happier to be kept waiting."
"What do I care? He can't do anything to me."
Lara shook her head. "You're playing a risky game, Malfoy. Don't bank on him always being lenient on you. One of these days your attitude is going to get your killed."
Draco shrugged a careless shoulder. "I'm not afraid of the Dark Lord."
Ginny looked at him curiously. There was just no working this man out. He served Voldemort, yet he didn't seem to care about the man at all. It made no sense.
"Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you," said Lara grimly.
Draco only rolled his eyes and stalked off down the hallway.
Lara chuckled to herself. "Boy can't control his temper at all." She turned her eyes to Ginny and twirled her wand in her hand. "Well, shall we go?"
Ginny nodded and started following Lara down the hallway.
"I take it you succeeded. I would congratulate you, but I hardly think that would be welcome," said Lara, while watching her keenly.
Ginny said nothing.
Lara let out another of her small chuckles. "That bad, huh? I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, girlie. Now that you've done the deed you're going to be well looked after. The Dark Lord wouldn't risk the child being hurt."
"How did you know about the child?" asked Ginny, a frown creeping onto her brow.
Lara smiled slightly. "I tended to Draco after the Dark Lord had punished him for refusing to rape you. Let's just say that he was very vocal in his frustrations."
"Oh."
Somehow that discovery made Ginny feel worse. Draco had suffered torture because he refused to rape her, and yet she had given in and ruined both their lives. Of course, back then she had believed she had no choice, but now she wasn't so sure.
Time had given her a moment to reflect, and in that reflection she had wondered if Voldemort had been lying to her when he had said that he would give her to those men. It certainly seemed possible that he had lied in order to get her to do what he wanted, but now she would never know for sure.
She sighed to herself. There really was no point dwelling about it further. The deed had been done; nothing could change that now.
They stopped at the familiar wooden door that led to Ginny's prison.
"This is where I leave you," said Lara, lowering her wand and opening the door. "You should try get some sleep while you can."
Ginny nodded and entered the room, the door shutting and locking behind her with a snap. Though sleep was far from her mind, Ginny was so mentally exhausted and physically drained that as soon as she collapsed on the bed she fell fast asleep.
OOOO
Voldemort stood like an aging piece of wax work, his unnaturally pale face dancing with the flickering shadows cast by the flames floating near him, giving a sinister glow to the deathly tones of his skin.
"You called for me, my Lord?" asked Draco, inclining his head in a stiff bow.
For all his mutinous words, he had decided to heed Lara's advice. His master would already be unhappy with him; there was no point pushing his luck.
A smile curved Voldemort's thin lips, and he walked slowly towards Draco, black robes hanging around him like a dark shadow; the candles flickering as if unable to stay alive in such pure evil.
"I have seen you grow to a fine Death Eater, Draco. You are the youngest in my ranks, and yet you have proven yourself again and again to be more thorough than any other. You do not hesitate; you do not take pity-" His voice lowered to the barest whisper, the crackling of the fire becoming louder with each moment- "And yet when I specifically asked you to help me with this great task, you refused."
Draco said nothing.
"However, thanks to Ginevra's determination, or should I say desperation," he corrected with a low laugh, "The deed has been done. Her situation is delicate, and I would not have her put at risk while she carries that child. That is why you, Draco, are going to watch her."
"My lord?" exclaimed Draco, momentarily surprised.
"You hate her, and therefore I know it will be punishment enough for you to look after her, but I also trust that you will protect her. I know you will not rape her, and I know that you will not directly disobey my orders and kill her. She has already been in your care while I was away, and therefore knows what to expect of you, and in a way it is almost fitting that you should look after her, considering the child is also yours."
Draco gritted his teeth. He could feel the dread filling inside him, his stomach lurching uncomfortably as he thought of being stuck in the company of the pale faced girl with those intense chestnut eyes; eyes that even now haunted him.
There was a power in her eyes that just stole all his breath and made him feel like he was falling into oblivion; falling deeper and deeper into his soul where he could not hide from any of the suppressed feelings he had tried so hard to ignore.
She would destroy him. She would ruin everything he had tried to create. There had to be another way. He couldn't do this. Not now, not when he was so weak and confused!
"My Lord, surely there is someone more suitable? She cannot stay here, and-"
"She can stay at the manor with your mother." Voldemort chuckled to himself. "The two of them can be bitter together."
"And of my men? Who will lead them?"
Draco knew there was no point arguing, but he would try all the same.
"There is always someone else to lead your men. I want you to stay at the Manor and protect her. There are enemies even in our own ranks, and you know just as well as I do that they would do anything to get their hands on her. I trust that you will deal with them should they come to you."
Draco silently nodded, knowing the matter to be closed.
Voldemort smiled in what could almost be called an affectionate way, except his eyes could never quite grasp the warmth of human emotion. There was always something wrong-something off. Everything was twisted, a layer of evil always creeping in to ruin the softness of his voice and expression.
"Do not look so bitter, Draco. Protect Ginevra for me and I will reward you greatly for your service."
"I will not fail you, my lord," said Draco with an ironic display of obedience.
"Good. Then you will take Ginevra to the Manor tonight and protect her there until the child is born. You may leave now."
Giving another stiff bow, Draco turned on his heel and swept out of the door, his rage building inside him with each step he took.
Voldemort was the one who had wanted the stupid girl. He was the one who wanted the magic inside her, and yet it was he-Draco-who had to do all the dirty work. He was the one who had kidnapped her and taken care of her; he was the one who had to be intimate with her and give her a child, and now the Dark Lord had just foisted her onto him once again! .
Storming down the hallway like a dark storm cloud, Draco burst into Ginny's room and froze upon seeing her sleeping on top of the bed. A crease formed on his brow, and silently he walked forward and gave her a small shake. She stirred and glanced up at him groggily, gasped in fright, and then quickly sat up to stare at him through wide eyes.
"What do you want?"
"I'm taking you to Malfoy Manor," answered Draco shortly.
Ginny frowned. "Why there?"
"Because the Dark Lord wishes it, now hurry up. I want to leave here before anyone notices what we're doing."
He grasped her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet, dragging her none-too-gently from the room. Silently he led her down the hallways to the disapparation point, and then pulled her with him inside the booth.
His eyes briefly met hers in an almost threatening manner, as if warning her not to try anything, and then he tightened his grasp on her wrist and lifted his wand in the air, pulling her with him to turn on the spot; the both of them vanishing with a loud crack.
A/N: Sorry if there's lots of typos and stuff. I haven't had much sleep-as usual-and even though I've read over this plenty of times, it's still likely I would have missed something. Plus, I'm in agony right now, so my brain isn't at it's full functioning-wisdom teeth and all. *sigh*
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and, of course, reviews are most welcome.