Rest In Pieces
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: What would you do if somebody locked you into a room with your worst enemy, and you were told that at the end of 24 hours, one of you'd be killed. But you don't know who? A question Ginny and Draco have to ask themselves when facing a very difficult situation.
Author's Notes: I promised to have this one out soon, right? So, here it is. But I warn you: Draco is soooo evil in this chappie, hehe.
Chapter 6: Revenge
"I really don't understand why you're making such a fuss about a glass of peanut butter," she said, trying to sound a little more confident that she was. "It's not as if I can't conjure up another one with a simple spell," she added each word taking longer to come out of her mouth with every passing second.
He was very, very angry, she could tell, but she couldn't fathom why for the life of her.
"You know exactly what this is about, little Weasel," he hissed menacingly. "This is not only about a glass of peanut butter, but also about you and about me. And last, but not least, nobody refuses a Malfoy what he wants," he continued, advancing on her. "If a Malfoy wants a glass of peanut butter, he gets a glass of peanut butter. If a Malfoy wants you to give him a specific glass of peanut butter, namely the one that is in your hands, you give a Malfoy said glass of peanut butter, understood?"
Ginny nodded, despite not knowing what on earth he was on about. All the ifs were giving her a headache and she was very close to telling a Malfoy that it did not sound eloquent when one repeated one and the same word over and over again.
"Fine," Draco finally snapped. "Then of course you do understand that I can ask whatever I want of you now?" he asked with a predatory half-smile, still advancing on her until her back was pressed up against he wall for the umpteenth time that day, stopping only millimetres before any parts of their bodies would touch, and unknowingly causing Ginny to celebrate the return of the pheromones.
Dazed by his nearness and the slight smell of peanut butter that clung to his breath it took her a while to register what he had said, but even through the strange fog of hormonal craziness that had settled over her valley of confusion she managed to see that his request was completely absurd.
"No," she managed to squeak out. "That's nonsense," she added, feeling that perhaps keeping quiet would have been the safer road to surviving the next five seconds.
"No it isn't," he corrected. "It is completely sensible, and there's nothing you can do to stop me, Ginny Weasley. I take what I want from you, and you know what it is I want from you, right?"
She swallowed and nodded, secretly cursing the part of her that found all this utterly fascinating and exciting, the part of her that wished it would have insisted on not wearing any underwear tonight. Unfortunately for her, said part was getting the upper hand on her subconscious bodily actions, and therefore lots of glands were working on overload at that moment.
"Good," Draco said in clipped tones. "First of all, I want a new glass of peanut butter." He shoved her wand into her hand. "Now," he added when she didn't budge.
Whispering the spell Ginny complied, although he had taken her by surprise with his request. Part of her was relieved, and that other, diabolical part of her was a little disappointed - for a minute she'd thought that he'd-
"Take off your shirt," he ordered, stopping her train of thought and effectively eliminating all feelings of relief or disappointment.
"My - my shirt?" Ginny asked perplexly, not able to stop the colour rising to her cheeks.
"My, I didn't know people could blush at their necks," Draco murmured into her ear, making her blush even more - not only in her cheeks, as it seemed. "And yes, your shirt." He took her wand and the glass of peanut butter from her hands, setting both down on the ground beside them carefully, as not to break them.
Ginny briefly evaluated her options while he was busy doing so - she could either refuse him, try to kick him in the shin or do something equally foolish, be thrown to the ground and then raped, or just play along and try to make the best of the situation. Him actually asking her to participate in things was actually more than she could have hoped for, she told herself. Perhaps a Ginny in another trouser leg would have kicked him, but this one thought it too risky. Besides, she reckoned as he stood up again, his nearness did strange things to her. Apart from the now laboured breathing, she was feeling tingly all over, and she could feel shivers running down her spine every time she felt his breath on her skin.
And so it came that she lifted her trembling hands to the plain white shirt of her school uniform, trying to undo the top button with sweaty hands while telling herself that this attraction she was feeling towards him was a twisted kind of Stockholm syndrome.
It took her ages to undo all the buttons under his sharp and imploring gaze that revealed nothing of what was going on behind the physical barriers of his head. She'd had half a mind to tell him to look somewhere else because it was unnerving, but knew that the only thing he'd have done was mock her, and so she refrained, trying to adjust to the situation as best as she could.
After what seemed like hours she finally managed to finish the task and willed herself not to blush as his gaze travelled along the expanse of flesh that was now exposed, nearly squirming when he lifted his eyebrow inquiringly at the sight of her simple, white cotton bra.
"Somehow, I'm not surprised," she heard him murmur while he pushed her shirt off her shoulders. "Opens at the back, I presume?" he asked businesslike.
Ginny nodded and squeaked when he grabbed her arm harshly to spin her around sharply. "Ow," she cried out in indignation, "that hurt, you brute!"
He merely took one of the straps of her bra, pulled it away and let it snap back on her skin playfully. "That's not the last thing that's gonna hurt for today," he finally drawled, snatching the clasp of her bra open. "You'd do well to remember that I'm not a nice guy," he added, not noticing the tears of terror that were gathering in Ginny's eyes.
Instead he swiftly removed the last piece of clothing that was covering her upper body, flicking it away carelessly.
"Now, to teach you a lesson," he continued with a dangerous tint to his voice. "In the future - should there be any memorable one for you, that is - you won't treat peanut butter that carelessly, I swear."
And with that he picked up the glass of peanut butter, eyeing it critically while turning her around so she was facing him again.
"Might need more," he murmured distractedly, not paying attention to Ginny, who was trying to cover her bare chest embarrassedly.
When he finally noticed what she was doing, she snatched her arms away and rolled his eyes. "None of that nonsense," Draco scoffed and first looked her in the eyes, then let his gaze travel to her exposed breasts, lifting one of his perfect and perfectly infuriating eyebrows. "Nice," he commented, cocking his head to the side.
Then he proceeded to open the glass of peanut butter and shove it into her hands. "Hold this," he commanded, not taking his eyes off the round, creamy white globes and rosy pink nipples, smirking when he saw goosebumps spread over the delicious skin he was looking at with rapt attention.
Even though he had not planned on it he was sorely tempted to forget all his plans and just act out on the desire that was slowly rising in his body, but he shook himself trying to block out thoughts of doing things of a sexual manner with a Weasley, willing the feeling that his pants were getting to tight to go away, remembering the purpose of what he was doing.
Taking a calming breath he shifted his gaze to the glass in her hand, dipped his right index and middle fingers in and started smearing her left collar bone with the creamy substance, not thinking about other employments for the word creamy, no, not at all.
Ginny meanwhile was stiffly holding the glass and regarding what he was doing anxiously. The way he'd stared at her breasts earlier had first made her blush, shiver, sent goosebumps all over her skin and then slightly worried.
Even though his fingers that were slowly rubbing peanut butter all over her torso were feeling sinfully good, she knew who he was, and that he was dangerous.
But it was to no avail - when he finally reached one of her nipples after taking endless time with the side of her breast, she was not able to stifle the moan that had been hiding in her throat for quite some time now any more. She'd never imagined anything could feel so good.
The part of her that was not completely gone with wanton thoughts fleetingly registered him smirking and proceeding with his strange work before even her last bit of sensible though decided that sometimes being insensible seemed like a good idea too.
She relished the feeling of his hands on her skin and didn't even notice him opening her trousers until she felt cool air hitting her legs as he pulled them down along with her white cotton panties, lifting her right leg to pull them off completely.
This had three effects on her: firstly, she blushed some more, secondly, she felt her nipples that had been taut and erect before harden some more from the cold, and lastly, it brought some sense back to her befuddled brain.
"What-?" she managed to ask through the haze of pleasure that had enveloped her.
"I'm not done yet, Weasley, and now shut up," he snapped, sitting down on the floor, his eyes level with the patch of red curls between her legs, which caused some more colour to rise to every surface of her body.
Draco picked up the glass again, proceeding to cover her left leg with peanut butter as he had done with her chest and stomach. And had the softness of his touch not catapulted Ginny back to the hazy state she'd been in before he'd pulled down her trousers, she would have been frightened. And had she not lost the capability of coherent thought, and had she not been afraid, she would have noticed with one quick glance at his groin it would have been quite obvious that despite his seemingly unaffected demeanour, Draco was clearly not unaffected by his actions.
As it was, she was not capable of coherent thought, and did not notice any of this. The only things she was capable of noticing were the wonderful sensations his touch was creating, especially when he had worked himself up to the insides of her knees.
She would have been ashamed of herself had she been in any other state when he reached her inner thighs. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that she must be presenting a rather wanton picture, standing completely naked, her head thrown back slightly, one hand reaching back for support on the wall, but she did not care right then. She was so far gone that she did not even notice herself moaning loudly and throatily all of a sudden.
But Draco wasn't, and he could hear her quite clearly, the sound shouting direct orders to his painfully hard erection. Knowing that he'd have to stop soon if he didn't want to spoil his plan he quickly withdrew, taking the glass with him, got up and walked to the other end of the room.
Robbed of his touch Ginny opened her eyes, and saw him smirking at her from the opposite wall. As the fuzziness in her brain would not dissolve it took her quite a while to process this information, and when she did, the only thing that she was able to say was "Wha-?"
She was already feeling cold where his hands had been not too long ago, and even though she hadn't thought about it earlier she knew what she needed him to do, or she'd explode.
"My masterwork is finished, Weasley. You really are a sight like that, I admit," he said, smirking.
When she realised what he meant, Ginny could not hold back the tears of despair that were welling up in her eyes - she was standing naked in front of her worst enemy covered in peanut butter almost from head to toe. She felt sticky, dirty and had never been so aroused in her life before.
He'd got his petty revenge for shattering a glass of peanut butter, all right.
"And don't you dare move," he interrupted her thoughts. "I'm going to sleep. If I wake up to find you clean, or clothed, we're going to have to repeat this again, understood?"
Ginny nodded through her tears. Oh, she was feeling so miserable. If she could just get rid of that aching desire between her legs... but no, she would not stoop that low.
He had already created a perfectly degrading situation for her. She would not make this any better for this sadistic bastard.
So that was chapter 6. Isn't he evil?