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The Green Dress	By : lordoberon Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 20647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books were written by J.K. Rowling. I make no money in the writing of this fanfic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
ooh this just gets more and more fun! Warning: there really is little plot to this story.

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THE GREEN DRESS

by lordoberon

Ch. 2

In swirling, perfect handwriting, it said (or rather, HE, the hot rich man, said): Don’t you dare send it back.

She laughed, and scribbled back a fast reply. How much do I owe you?

She handed the bird the letter, stripped off the dress quickly, and when she was still in her bra and panties – yipes! – the owl was back with a reply.

“He’s definitely staying at Hogwarts, then. Maybe he’s in my year?”

This time he had written: One dance, with you in that dress, at the Ministry Christmas Party.

Ginny felt a little nervous to read that. Um, how did he know that that was where she’d been planning to wear it to? And how could he not want his money back? Was he that stinking rich? At the same time, she was delighted that he wanted a dance. He had noticed her in seconds, even if Harry couldn’t seem to see her in an entire year of dating her.

You have to let me pay you back. Otherwise I’ll be guiltridden. Do you dance well, or step on people’s toes? I have bad memories related to dancing.

He wrote back: Neville Longbottom, Yule Ball, right? You were thirteen, and everyone remembered you as ‘the girl that Voldemort kidnapped’ from your first year. You took it all very well.

This time she was angry. Look, who are you? I know you’re trying to be the mysteriousness Slytherin, but it’s not charming at all.

His reply?I have been told that I am an excellent dancer. I can do the waltz, the foxtrot, or any modern type of dance. Whatever you like.

She was laughing at him, even as she was nervous. He was a Slytherin, after all.

What do you want??

His reply made her groan in annoyance. Do you really want to know?

She wrote back, sloppy and large across the paper: YES.

He wrote back: You.

She didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted her. Okay. But he was rich, he was Slytherin, he was suited for nothing more than her fantasies about kissing him. Except now he was real and he’d sent her the green dress, which was amazing, and which everyone would see her in. They would ask who bought it for her. Her father hated owing money to people. He would not like it if he heard some rich stranger had bought it for her. Rarely was he angry with her, but when he’d heard that she was getting called names in school because of her quick flips from one boyfriend to another, he’d been angry with her. Now, it was more man trouble, and the man had bought her a very expensive dress.

She couldn’t resist the question: You want me. In what way?

His reply was surprisingly quick, but it didn’t say what she’d thought it would, sex. Instead it said: I want you in whatever way you like.

Well that was different. Usually they wanted sex – and she did not want to give her virginity to some mysterious stranger, even if he was gorgeous – or a friend, or to talk to a redhead, or to find out about Harry, or to send her money because they’d her about her family. It was all bad. Stranger’s answer was, well...weird.

She kind of liked it.

Leaned over her pillows, with the newest letter spread out before her on a notebook, she nosed the feathers of her quill thoughtfully. She had a flowered dress on today, although robes never let her show it off. Now her robes were gone and she felt comfortable. She gazed around at the room. How to answer?

She didn’t know this man. She liked him, a little. But she hated owing him. And she didn’t trust him, because Slytherins were usually iffy. What to do? She would dance with him at the Ministry party...especially if Harry were there, and she broke it off with him.

I’m not sure what I like, because I don’t know who you are, she said.

His reply made her throw the paper in a ball across the room: Tough luck.

She scribbled back: Stop wasting my parchment!

The owl returned with 10 sheets of parchment.

She laughed, and refused to send a reply, and shooed the owl away.

* * *

“Oh HARRY. You never get it, do you? You never get it, you never quite got me, and it seems like you never will. I’ve talked to you about it, and you still haven’t done anything, and I just can’t do this anymore. We’re done!”

She slammed the Fat Lady’s frame in his face, and whisked her new Invisibility Cloak out of her pocket, and disappeared.

Down into the depths of the tunnels of Hogwarts...into the Room of Requirement to explore...into the kitchens for a bite...

But her heart was not in it. So she sat in the Astronomy Tower where Dumbledore had died, and cried.

It felt good to be alone, in a way. Now she was free, and she didn’t have to have any more heartache over Harry. But now she was going to be alone. No one to share her deepest thoughts and feelings with...no one who really understood her...no one for a comforting or passionate kiss...

When she returned to the Common Room hours later, Harry did try, she gave him that. As soon as she entered the room, he was there. He grabbed hold of her wrist and whispered, “Gin, please. Please give me another chance. I promise I’ll listen. I won’t be so in my head anymore. I love you, Gin...please?”

She stared into his green, green eyes, wet with emotion, but she just didn’t feel it anymore. She didn’t feel the affection pouring from her, the attachment. All she felt was sadness. His green eyes made her think of the Stranger. Perhaps he was better at communicating? Maybe he would treat her better?

She shook her head, and silently returned back to her dormitory.

The next morning, she woke up feeling so drained. But there was no time for that. She had a Quidditch match today!

At breakfast, she was relieved to hear that Harry had left for more Auror training. He had been visiting her, and now that they were over, he was gone. Good. Shows how much he’d really cared for her, leaving the second she dumped him. Ugh.

She used her anger to fight the tears that threatened her, and suited up for the game slowly. She ignored the concerned words of her friends, saying, “I’m fine. I’m relieved, actually. Let’s beat those Slytherins!”

It felt good to rush up into the air, and have something to concentrate on while the other players did their parts. She blocked a couple Quaffles, and it felt so good to WIN! They were so close!

She scanned the crowd to see if any of her friends were there, cursing herself for looking for a familiar head of black hair and green eyes...wait!

Someone with black hair and green eyes was there, at the edge of the Slytherins. But it was not Harry. It was her mysterious Stranger.

God, he looked good. He wore all white today, and he was smirking up at her, seeing her looking at him. Then a frown marred his lovely face, and he pointed –

OUCH! Something hard slammed into Ginny’s face, and she felt herself falling...

***

She awoke with the dusk taking out the light from the sky. Staring out at it through the window across the Hospital Wing, she asked aloud, “Did we win? What day is it?”

She startled as a voice answered, “You lost the match, and possibly the Cup. It’s about...ten to six.”

She looked down at the wristwatch that sat on a thin wrist with dark skin and dark hair. Then she followed her gaze up the arm, to a familiar yet unfamiliar face. It was the Stranger who had gifted her thegreen dress, and written to her, and argued hotly with Theo Nott outside of the dress shop.

For a moment she just stared into his beautiful face, wishing she could figure out who he was. She also took the time to admire his face and study him. He had long eyelashes, a sensual mouth like something out of a Renaissance painting, and a straight nose. His eyebrows flared a little at the ends. His hair, tied back in her previous encounter with him, was now out, and it sat messily across his shoulders, frizzled at the edges. She wanted to run her hands through his hair. It was so thick. She liked the curls.

“Please tell me your name,” she said quietly. Perhaps if she was nice and feigned feeling quite ill, he would answer. She did feel a little dizzy when she sat up.

He looked at her a little longer, as if trying to judge her condition. But he said nothing in concern. Instead, a sudden smirk came to his lips, and he leaned in to whisper, “I’ll answer, if you let me kiss you.”

She laughed in his face. “That’s the most stupid, unoriginal thing I’ve ever heard! Can’t you come up with anything better?”

He frowned. “Pardon, I mixed up Muggle fairytales. Isn’t there something about a woman waking from sleep and getting kissed, and the man has to tell her his name?”

The Stranger read Muggle fairy tales? Ginny remembered when her dad would read them to her before bed (until her mother would come in with the Wizarding fairy tales books and read them, instead. But secretly, Ginny would read the Muggle ones, too, once both her parents had left. They were funny with how they interpreted magic. Also, they were far more romantic than the Wizarding tales).

“You’ve got it all wrong,” she laughed. “Sleeping Beauty is woken by her prince kissing her. And a different princess from a different story has to guess the name of a little old man, named Rumpelstiltskin.”

The Stranger rolled his eyes. “A wizarding name, if I ever heard one. That story must have some grain of truth in it. So...is that a no?”

Ginny sat back a little and pretended to think about it. She felt silly in her plain robes in front of this man – especially since he wore Muggle attire which clung so nicely to his figure – but it seemed he already wanted her badly enough not to care.

“I suppose I’ll let you give it go,” she said lightly.

The Stranger laughed at her purposefully arrogant answer, but replied with one of his own: “You might be surprised.”

She was surprised, indeed, by his boldness, when he left his chair and sat down next to her on the bed, instead. He put an arm on either side of her. Then he kissed her.

Oh, he wanted it! How long had he wanted it? His soft, full mouth was passionate against her, his tongue was tasting her lips, and then it was in her mouth, and he wanted it so badly that he groaned at the mere touch of her tongue against his. His body was heavy and warm against her, trapping her.

His tongue was the devil, fire inside of her, licking up her complaints, drinking her desire, thrusting away all power she had to fight back. He pushed roughly, and then glided softly. He traced her teeth, and curved around her tongue with skill. In his obvious hunger for her, he was weak, even though he was too heavy for her to escape his body against her.

She moaned against him, and her traitor hands pushed up into his dark curls, and tugged. Her traitor hips pushed against his, and rubbed against his firm, long body. Then her fingers were gliding down his chest, and resting, in such a wanton way, over the belt of his trousers.

He wanted her so badly that it made her want to sing. It felt so good, after a year of Harry and his dullness and his nervousness and his ignoring her, to have a man so eager for her. Maybe he just wanted sex, but even that was like a drop of water in the desert. She was wanted again. She was desirable again. She was someone, not just a blob of a person at the side of Harry Potter. She wasn’t just Harry Potter’s girlfriend, or Ron Weasley’s sister. Maybe she was just the hot redhead to this man...but she didn’t care.

After kissing her, he wasn’t even done. Panting, he remained looking at her flushed face for a moment. Then his mouth was on the hunt again. He licked across her cheek, sweeping away the hair that got in the way. Then he was at her neck, and he found the spot beneath her ear that made her tremble. His warm, talented mouth sucked, and licked, and she groaned like some sort of scarlet woman. God, he was too good! Was he really real?

“Where did you learn this?” she panted. He was like a sex god from a book, incarnated before her.

He continued to make her tremble with his tongue, even as his fingers began to slide up from her waist, closer and closer to her breasts...

“Practice,” he laughed.

Immediately she was turned off. Ginny didn’t want to be in the hands of a womanizer. Plus, he was a rich Slytherin git. He probably wanted her virginity, and she didn’t want to give it to him, even if he was gorgeous. He was a stranger, and she wasn’t stupid. She knew he could be dangerous.

So she pulled away.

“I’m just another conquest for you, hmm?” She pushed his shoulder hard, and he sat back.

A hint of anger gleamed in his green eyes and his dark face became a little flushed. “I could say the same thing to you.”

Ginny swallowed hard. He was wrong! She was a virgin. Yes, she had had many boyfriends, but they had all turned sour; it was not that she had used them. She hadn’t even gotten below the belt with any of them!

“Assume all you want, you stupid, rich ass,” she spat.

“Does the fact that I have money bother you so much? And here I thought Arthur Weasley’s children would have learned respect for others not like them because of his affinity for Muggles. I guess the apple, once gone from the tree, can turn to rot.”

That made her even angrier. “Shut it! You don’t know anything about my father. He doesn’t like people who try to use women and tempt them with their money. I haven’t met a single rich man who did anything nice for me without wanting something in return.”

The Stranger stood up and stretched, shaking a curl out of his face. “You probably never gave them the chance to try, seeing as you seem to hate them all as soon as they whip out their wallet. As for ‘nice,’ I don’t know how you define it, but I think getting a gorgeous dress for a gorgeous woman and asking only one dance in return falls under that category.”

He made to leave the room then, but Ginny stopped him in his tracks with a shout – “If you’re so damn nice, why won’t you tell me your name?”

He turned back and gave her a haughty glare. “I was right not to, seeing as you’re already prejudiced against me for my wealth. I was hoping you’d end up being more broadminded than most of your fellow Gryffindors. But you’re rather disappointing. A bitch with great looks, that’s all.”

Arrggh! She snatched her wand from the bedside table, and hexed him with the worst case of Bat Bogeys she could do. He fled the room, and then she fell back with a groan.

When she woke the next day, after getting instructions to be careful and not do any high-energy activity for a few days, Ginny was released from the Hospital Wing. She walked with Luna to Gryffindor Tower, but her mind was elsewhere.

She was thinking about how right the Stranger was to accuse her of prejudice. She was prejudiced against Slytherins due to years of training in her family, and her association with Harry and Ron. And she was prejudiced to resent the money of the wealthy, no matter how nice they might be. It was absolutely stupid, really. She hadn’t associated personally with very many Slytherins or wealthy. They were people, too. They weren’t all like Malfoy – and even Malfoy hadn’t ended up so bad after all.

Finally Luna noticed her inattention and said, “Has a swarm of Loubbey Lister’s caught you? You seem to be in another world. Where are you?”

“Loubbeywhats?”

“Listers. They hang around when someone is feeling daydreamy or listless, and they grab hold of your ankles – do they itch? That’s a sign – and make you start listing all the practical, bothersome things that will break up your daydream. It’s quite irritating. Here, do your ankles itch -”

She leaned down and gave Ginny a hard smack on one ankle.

“Ouch! Luna, that’s not it!”

“Oh.” The blonde stood up. “Then what is it?”

Ginny licked her lips, reluctant to tell it all.

“Does it have to do with that Blaise Zabini? Just when I was about to visit you at the Hospital Wing yesterday, he was leaving with a bad case of Bat Bogeys. I know you’re the best at that. I helped him out, and he said he owed me one...”

Ginny’s mind was whirling. Blaise Zabini....Zabini?...

Luna continued, “So then I got distracted with trying to think of what I could get from him...I suppose I could ask him not to kill you, since I’ve heard his mother does that to her lovers and husbands. Are you two lovers?”

Ginny blushed furiously. “NO! We are NOT!”

Luna laughed. “Good. I was afraid you got quick with him because you just broke it off with Harry. He IS quite handsome though, isn’t it? He reminds me of that statue of Michelangelo, the famous David, except with curly dark hair, and he’s normal size, and not made of marble, of course.”

Ginny laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. Already Luna had her in the land of dreams, undressing Mr. Zabini, and cursing the fact that she was, still, somewhat torn up over Harry. She had dreamt of marrying him, after all...

Mr. Zabini floated in her mind long after, as she sat poring over homework. Now she knew his name! But, alas, she knew little about him, only that his mother, as Luna said, killed a husband a year.

That should have stopped her daydreaming right there, but she just couldn’t...

So she kept going. In her daydream, Zabini was lying on her bed, and she had a cloth in his smartarse mouth, and a chain tying his hands to the headboard. She unbuttoned the black button-down that he wore...first the top few buttons, revealing his broad, flat chest, with curling dark hairs...his navel...

And then she kept going. She hadn’t seen a naked man, before, but she imagined it. He would have a big cock, unlike Michalengelo’s David, and she would rub it, making him moan. She would kiss it, and lick it, until it was wet and hard.

Then, to torture him, she would rub her panties slowly, slowly, over his cock. He would groan and shake his thick head of curls, and she would simply smirk at him.

Next, she would lean her body over him, take the cloth from his pretty mouth, and make him lick her breasts...ohhh...

With her hand beneath her shirt, and her fingers squelching within her, she imagined it. That worshipful tongue, licking softly over her sensitive skin, and then sucking at her nipples...harder...

Thank god for Muffliato, which made her noises of pleasure undetectable to her sleeping roommates.

When her daydream went so far as to have her licking his large, dark cock and sucking him into her mouth, she was gone. Ungh! God it felt good.

She collapsed on the bed, only to find a pair of eyes staring roundly at her. What! A little shriek came from her. She groped for her wand, and then stopped to stare at the eyes more.

The intruder was that same dark owl, simply staring at her, with a letter in one claw. She prayed it wasn’t Zabini’s Animagus form – watching her, how dare he! – and took the letter with her clean hand. Well, it was a bit sweaty from touching her breasts.

The letter said:

Thank you for the unique send off from the Hospital Wing. Your friend Luna Lovegood caught me in a bad way, and helped me out. In return for this unexpected kindness, she requested me to give you a second chance – having overheard our lovely little conversation in the Wing. Because I like to stick by my promises, I am writing to you again.

What? But hadn’t Luna said that she was glad Ginny wasn’t having a rebound with Blaise Zabini? Hmm...it seemed that had been a sneaky double-handed talk, and she wanted Ginny to try out Blaise Zabini after all. She wanted Zabini to be MORE than a rebound??

Wow.

Ginny took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never. This time, she had to not flub things up...

She looked around for a quill.
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The Green Dress