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Feel	By : bourbonrain Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 25972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Feel
- 2-2
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- 4-4
- 3
- 4
Chapter Four

****

With exception to the night she threw up in Malfoy�s parlor,
she had always managed to wake up at dawn to return to the Burrow. No point in
staying longer than she had to, she figured. The secret to this �waking up� was
to simply not sleep, just in case she overslept.

Which inevitably happened eventually.

It was the day of New Year�s eve, although she had lost
track of such things as New Year�s and Christmas. Days in the Burrow and nights
in the Manor. It sounded like the title of a cheesy soap opera, but it was the
numbing repetition that made up her life.

Her usual mornings were spent sleeping in the Burrow. Her
afternoons were spent cleaning and working on Auror training applications. Her
evenings were spent in her mother�s closet, sorting out her old things. She had
found delicate dresses from decades ago, when Molly had been petite and slim.
Ginny was too tall for the ones cut specifically for her mother�s frame, but
she crammed herself into them anyway, charming the fabric to fit her body.

In her head, she could hear her father tell her she was the
spitting image of Molly in their youth. A lump would form in her throat as she
stared at herself in the mirror.

She would also wonder what Molly would say. Something about
her baby girl being grown up and beautiful.

Then she would wonder what Molly would say about Malfoy.
Something she didn�t want to think about.

These thoughts would stay with her as she flooed to Malfoy�s
mansion, sometimes directly to his bedroom.

Several hours later, she would floo back, mind void for
anything except for his touch and the guilt that came with it.

Except, for the morning she awoke, still in the manor, to
Malfoy�s fingers in her folds and his mouth on her neck. Her eyes opened wide,
but she lay wordlessly beneath him as he pushed himself into her. She
swallowed, knowing she was already moistened for him. She lay still and silent,
watching him watch her.

How did something as simple as him inside her make her
create such ambivalent emotions? How did something as simple as gray eyes on
brown send a shiver down her spine? But that was the whole point of this whole
ordeal, wasn�t it? So that she could feel again. She arched her back squeezed
her eyes shut, gripping the sheets with her fingers. She half expected him to
kiss her throat and nibble on her earlobes, but he didn�t.

Nothing but a good morning fuck. None of that soft sex they
had shared a few nights ago. They had returned to biting remarks and aggressive
thrusts when she returned the next night. She supposed she was thankful. Just a
few more days and it would be time to return to school. She could escape all
this then, although this was supposed to be the escape.

When she came, she bit her lip and held back the moan
although she could hardly hide her heavy breathing. When he came, he was also
silent, pulling out almost immediately afterwards, leaving her sore and cold.
Her eyes were on the ceiling as he left her bed, then the room. Against her
better instincts, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

It was noon before she woke for the second time. He was in
her room again � this time, dressed and completely unlike the messy-haired man
who she had seen earlier that morning.

�I�m paying you for sex, not for sleeping in when
uninvited.�

She returned his gaze, despite feeling rumpled and dirty in
the sex-stained bed. Muggle-loving whore, she could hear him say. What had she
become? No matter how many smart comments she shot back, the facts were still
plain and clear. She was sleeping with him for money.

She rose without a reply and pulled her clothes on. Her
underwear. Her bra. Then her jeans and sweater. Slipping on her shoes, she
wordlessly walked past him to the fireplace.

He grabbed her hand before she threw the floo powder into
the ashes, sending white dust flying around them.

�Did I say you could go?�

And so she didn�t.

In fact, she stayed at the manor until her return to
Hogwarts. There was, after all, no point in being lonely in the empty Burrow.
So she chose the halls of her family�s murderer over the cottage where the
memories of her loved ones haunted her with overwhelming silence

She wore clothes that Malfoy picked for her � silk robes,
transparent camisoles, filmy teddies � the wardrobe of a live-in prostitute.
She avoided looking in mirrors in fear of seeing what she�d become. At least,
he was rarely there to rub it in.

For the most part, he left her alone. They even took their
meals separately. She spent most of the day in the guest room or the library,
working on her auror training applications. Malfoy didn�t question her
activities and even ceased to come to her bedroom every evening.

She wondered where he was on the evenings she didn�t see
him. Was he across the hall laying awake like she was? Doubtful. Usually, when
she realized his tardiness was actually absence, she found herself with her
hands between her legs, rubbing the way she wanted him to.

On one such night, she heard the voice of another woman in
the hall, cooing his name. Without knowing exactly why, she burst into quiet
sobs that drenched her pillowcase with salty tears.

When he came to her the next night, she didn�t speak to him,
ignoring his taunts and lying lifelessly beneath him as he slammed into her
with aggression. His frustration at her silence pleased her.

She continued this indifference for days, making his remarks
ever more hurtful and his grip on her hips ever more bruising. He would do
things to provoke her - talk of Harry and Hermione, of her family, of her
worthlessness, of the wetness between her legs. Then, he would reach into her
moist folds and stroke her till she almost came.

He would come into the library as she worked on her
applications, groping her breasts and whispering taunts in her ear. She never
showed how turned on she was, although he seemed to know anyway. She complied
each time he told her to pull down her nightgown straps and to suck and
swallow.

A regular whore, he said.

She thought, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that he
wasn�t far from the truth.

When she finally gave in and responded to his biting
comments, she realized it was the first time she had spoken for days. It was
her last night in the manor. Then, when he pushed her against the wall and
untied the sash of her robe, she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. She
didn�t want any more bruises or soreness between her legs. She just wanted to
close her eyes and pretend that someone loved her. But his thrusts were unkind
and his attention to her nipples left bite marks on her breasts.

Though really, what could she say? Please fuck me softly.
Yeah fucking right.

He left her in a crumpled heap against the wall of his
study.

Let him win, she thought. It�s not as if she cared anymore
anyway. His cum dripped down her inner thigh as she walked back to her room.

It�s funny how hurtful one can be to those they love.

But this wasn�t love.

It was strange being in the company of normal, smiling faces
when she returned to school. It wasn�t hard to fall back into the routine of
laughing over dinner and flying laps with the quidditch team. The girl wracked
with grief, self-hatred, and lust was nowhere to be seen. She couldn�t even
picture herself wandering around the manor, dressed in see-through silk,
waiting for Malfoy to fuck her.

She slept well at night, exhausted from homework and
quidditch practice. She went to Hogsmeade with her friends, giggling over
butterbeers and cute seventh year boys. When everyone around is normal, it�s
not hard to pretend.

She accepted dates and sometimes blushingly kissed the lucky
guy at the end of the night. Where was the masked dancer? The smoky-eyed
temptress? Let sleeping dragons lie.

She had lunch with Harry and Hermione in Hogsmeade every
other weekend. She caught herself mentally switching places with Hermione, picturing
her own hand intertwined with Harry�s. The thought didn�t excite her.

I�m happy for you two, she told them, and she hoped they
knew she meant it.

She had a few weeks of normality, in which Gryffindor won
three quidditch games and a flow of auror training acceptance letters fell into
her lap over breakfast.

Ginny Weasley, everybody � Gryffindor golden girl.

No one questioned the golden girl when she received an
unmarked package one morning and disappeared from the breakfast table.

She tore open the brown parcel paper upon reaching her room.
An hour later, she was on her way to Hogsmeade, wearing a brand new coat, with
strappy, black stilettos. The note had said to wear nothing underneath, but she
carried a change of clothes with her just in case.

�Miss me?� He was standing by the window of the small hotel
room, when she entered.

She said nothing, setting down her bag on the rickety
breakfast table.

�Well, I suppose you didn�t,� he said. �After all, I happen
to know you�ve been snogging blokes all over Hogsmeade.�

�You had me watched?�

�Don�t flatter yourself. Our old friend, Madame Ouellette,
informed me of this when I inquired of your employment at her pub.�

�Well, so what if I have?� Although she had barely even
kissed a boy in the past month.

�Nothing,� he sneered. �I just wanted to know if they pay as
handsomely as I do.�

Her arms crossed and her jaw clenched. �If you must know, I
have been on several dates these past few weeks. And unlike you, none of them
had to pay to have sex with me.�

�Don�t make yourself sound like a slut, Weasley. It�s
unappealing.�

The familiar irritation and anger that came with his
presence was back under her skin. They stood warily, like opponents separated
by the distance of the room.

�Come here,� he said finally. His voice was cold, but
softer.

Shakily, with stiff knees, she walked over to his side.

�Do you want a drink?� He motioned to the wine bottle beside
the bed.

She shook her head, standing awkwardly before him. Without
further conversation, he pulled her closer to him by the belt of the coat and
began undoing it. She held her breath as he unbuttoned each button, as he
pushed the garment over her shoulders and onto a heap behind her. She froze as
his eyes ran over her bare body.

�Come on, Weasley,� he whispered, before kissing her. �Don�t
be a stranger.�

She was wet before his lips touched hers. She found herself
running her hands over his chest, tugging impatiently at his belt, ripping his
buttons from his shirt. She heard him chuckle at her eagerness, but she didn�t
care.

When he was undressed, she led him by the hand and pushed
him onto the bed. He pulled her on with him, flipping her onto her back. Warm
hands ran over every inch of her body as hot kisses trailed down her stomach.
She arched her back when his tongue hit her folds. She had missed this feeling
� the way he kissed, the way he touched, the way he knew her body inside out.
Her hands were in his hair, pulling him from between her legs before she came.

He understood, spreading her nether lips apart with his
hands before pushing himself into her. She could taste herself on him as his
tongue probed her mouth. As he entered her slowly with a shuddering breath, she
wondered if he could tell that he was the last to have her.

The thought was lost amidst frantic kisses and touches,
sucking and biting and thrusting, heavy breathing and suppressed moans. She had
missed this feeling.

He, too, found a certain comfort in their sex. In the month
that she had returned to Hogwarts, he had thrown himself into work. Investments
everywhere, buying out failing companies, creating jobs � Draco Malfoy was
quickly becoming associated with economic reform and recovery. Of course, he
didn�t do this out of pure philanthropy. He had plenty to gain and little to
lose, with deep pockets and a tarnished family name. When he got lonely, he
found himself between the legs of one socialite or another, but when he closed
his eyes and ignored their breathy gasps, he would lose himself in her.

Her - this beautiful, ambitious girl who had seen too much
and had too little. He wondered if she had pretended he was Potter as he had
fucked her all those times. Sometimes, he would hold her head between his hands
and force her to look at him, just to make sure she was seeing him and not some
green-eyed, scar-faced �

He hated thinking about Potter when he was inside her. He
secretly felt relieved when she had told him to never mention Potter during
sex, but he did anyway, just to gauge her reaction, just to help him guess
their past. He wanted to get in her head, to see what was behind those
long-lashed, warm eyes. They were one in the same � alone in the world, with a
mutual understanding of need.

All he ever managed to do was to push her away, but
hurtfulness was the only way to elicit a response. That and this � he loved the
way her barriers fell as he moved inside her, revealing honest lust and want.

She threw her head back and bit her lip when she came,
tightening around him in a hundred tiny pulses. He held on for a few more
seconds before following her climax, eventually coming to a rest on top of her.
Soft. Warm. Lovely. She felt like home.

He pulled out, but held her close. He told himself to let
go. To not let her see him needing as much as she did. Instead, he kissed her
lightly, watching her eyes flutter shut as her lips parted for his. When she
opened them, they had a mischievous glint in their brown depths. He smiled and
let her do as she pleased, sure that it would please him in return.

He wasn�t disappointed.

When she rose to leave, it was dark. He lay, sated, on the
bed, watching her button up the coat over her sex stained body.

She disappeared without a goodbye out the door, heels
clicking down the hall, mind clouded with him. His chiseled body, his pale
skin, his agile hands, his gray eyes. And before she could stop herself, she
wished she could run back into the room and stay there forever.

*****

End of Chapter Four
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