How Could This Happen? | By : Wolvertique Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3702 -:- 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. |
This wouldn’t have happened if she’d had any other choices, she had to admit. She probably wouldn’t even have thought of him sexually if Michael, or Harry, or even Justin had survived the war.
So many had died. She felt guilty at first, as they all did, at having survived to begin with. She repressed all her desires, sexual and otherwise.
But eventually the Ministry healed enough to push the British wizarding community back to life. They did it with outrageous laws, laws that were never intended to remain in effect, like the Marriage law or the Pregnancy law, which provided that anyone of proper age who did not have a child immediately within her/his current marriage or subsequent one, must immediately remarry someone else and have a child.
She snorted. Even the most depressed, the least connected British Witches she knew, like herself after the battles with the Darkness stopped, all banded together and started living again in their conflict with the Ministry. Soon, there was a new Ministry, a new Minister of Magic, and a new bond between the so-called "pure" of blood and the "impure."
She smiled. While coming back to life, her sex drive was the first to recover. She started having long, explicit sexual fantasies while she and Luna and the others all ranted fiercely about those stupid greedheads at the Ministry.
It was something to see Luna rant, indeed; the woman normally simply accepted things as they were with an annoying calm, but once her fire was lit, she kept going for hours at a time, whether anyone was listening to her or not.
But back to her sexuality rising again. Oh, to be sure, Ginny’d done her best to deny her sexual impulses, to work wholeheartedly for "the cause," but things only got worse. She started having long, sexually explicit dreams about nameless strangers the more that she tried to deny her feelings. Random images came at the most inconvenient times, sensations of long, rough fingers cupping her breasts or stroking up her thigh, wicked unrepentant grins as moans fell from her lips. Things only got worse when he started hanging around. He came to her work and charmed her boss, the otherwise pragmatic Madame Marquise. He whispered to her in Diagon Alley after work. He even insisted on walking her home on a few quiet nights. His scent was enough to make her close her eyes against his image.
She couldn’t avoid him. Last night, she’d even had a dream about him, naked, rising over her, whispering against her flushed skin. She’d caressed him, pulled him closer, invited him in under her skin, and then … then she woke up late and had to rush to get to work.
So she was not in the mood for … him being at work once she finally got to the Gem Gallery. She arrived five minutes late, hurriedly throwing off her cloak in what seemed to be an empty employee lounge.
"You’re late, aren’t you, Weasley?"
Oh, fuck Merlin with a potato! Why the hell was he always in the shop somewhere, and usually near her?
She cleared her throat and looked at him. Gleaming pale eyes, immaculate and long, wavy blond hair, dressed to the nines…oh, God, she was staring, imagining those slender hands dropping to his waist, framing himself against those elegant pants, wondering how accurate her dream had been... She tore her attention away from Draco when she realized she’d been staring. "I’ve got to get to work. Jewelry doesn’t sell itself, you know."
His slow tones rang out again in the nearly empty room. "Oh, I know many things, Miss Ginevra Weasley. Like your tardiness last week, and the week before. You could probably be terminated for this … disobedience."
She closed her eyes, then pried them open again with sheer willpower as she suddenly got an image of how she’d like to be "punished" for her lateness. Over the knee, skirt pushed up, underwear ripped off, a caress over her ass, then one hand rising as the other dipped down between her legs…No. Never Draco. Ever. Even if he was sexy, leaning against the only door that led into the store itself. Even if his nimble tongue was caressing his upper lip. Not even though she felt a warm rush of liquid between her legs at the idea of his hand gripping her ass.
She channeled her desire into anger. "Then tell Madame Marquise to fire me, but get out of the way." She strode firmly toward the door, and Draco simply stayed where he was with a very amused expression on his face.
She bumped into him, hard, but then stopped. He was warm and firm under his expensive clothes, and he made no sound. "I could be persuaded to have her keep you on, Miss Weasley," he dragged out, in an exaggerated parody of formality. He raised his eyebrows and looked her over thoroughly.
She frowned and stepped back from him, his gaze caressing her body. Without thinking about it, she retorted, "Like you would, or could, Malfoy. You’re probably so inbred that your ‘wand’ is as soft as your head."
His expression changed, from idle teasing to a deep scowl. "So you don’t think I could have you begging for me?"
Pleased at having wounded him, frustrated at having no one, and clinging to her anger like a shield, Ginny smugly returned, "Draco, you couldn’t have anyone begging for you even with your hands full of Galleons."
He paused, thinking for a moment, and then he gave a large smile. A nasty smile. A smile that promised Ginny she was in very deep trouble indeed. "I take that as a challenge, Miss Weasley. I intend to prove you wrong. I will meet you at your flat tonight at seven o’clock. Be there, for be very sure, I shall find you if you are not," he leaned and spoke intimately into her ear, scorching it, "and wherever I find you, I shall prove to you that I can make you want me."
"You wish, Malfoy," she breathed, half-certain he was just joking again.
He stood and winked at her. "Over and over and over. I may choose to make you apologize as well."
He turned to leave but stopped abruptly in the doorway. She looked up from straightening her name badge (it sparkled and cheerily said at odd intervals, "Hello! I’m Ginevra! May I make you beautiful today?") as he warmly and loudly greeted her boss. "Madame Marquise! Your radiance outshines your brightest jewels!"
Unfortunately, her damned badge piped up right after he’d spoken, but before Madame could do anything other than give her usual blush and playful slap to Draco’s shoulder. Madame’s expression became several degrees cooler as she heard the perky chirp of Ginny’s badge, and she tried to look over the man in front of her. "Weasley? What are you doing in there?"
Draco lazily sighed. "I’m afraid I delayed her, Madame. I insisted that she speak with me about what sapphires you will be ordering, as I am considering a memorial for my mother. She adored blue, but she also had a taste for the rare and fine things in life … rather like you."
If his voice had been any sweeter, Ginny fumed silently, Honeydukes would go out of business. Couldn’t Madame see through this ridiculous façade? Anything she, Ginny, tried to do that was less than honest, the woman pounced on like Hermione’s pet cat. But the woman was being placated, and even told her to help "Sir Malfoy" with anything else he wanted.
As if she would! She kept herself from spitting out that she’d rather eat poor Crookshanks whole, and thankfully Draco didn’t press the matter, simply saying he had another appointment but that he’d be glad to meet with Ginevra at another time soon.
Bastard. Arrogant, good-looking, all too sure of himself bastard.
She asked herself all the rest of the day what she was going to do, come evening. Several times she decided that she would not be anywhere near her flat so that Draco could not find her. Malfoy, she meant. Then she decided that she would be there, could fend the man off, and send him packing with a triumphant laugh as he went. One shivery time, as she watched a couple who were obviously in love check out the wedding rings, she imagined not being anywhere near her flat … so that Draco could find her, wrestle her into submission, and lick her aching nipples …
By the time she left for home, she still was not sure what to do. He hadn’t been around all day, yet she’d spent most of it imagining him peeking in at her, teasing her, arousing her. She couldn’t just give in to him. He was Draco Malfoy, for goodness’ sake! Never mind that he’d stayed out of the war. That his home had been burned to the ground when his parents had been killed in the last major battle. That he was providing a lot of jobs for people with his carefree spending in Diagon Alley. None of it mattered. The fact remained that he was an irritating bastard and always had been. He was nasty and mean, and wasn’t the least bit interesting. Not even with his clothes off, gently rubbing his erect cock, looking at her with that arrogant confidence on his face…
She made up her mind. She had to leave her flat. She wouldn’t wait there for Malfoy to find her. She was not, she told her libido sternly, going to find a compliant friend with an empty house of her own to wait for him in. She was going to go out to dinner in a very public place. Alone.
With that in mind, she dressed in her fanciest clothes and paid no attention to the small voice that whispered about how it was amazing that she’d chosen her silky black underwear and her shortest black dress when she wasn’t planning on seeing anyone tonight. Not anyone at all.
She left at 6:45 on the dot, and that was just a coincidence too, as was the fact that she’d written the name of the restaurant she was going to on her daily calendar on the wall that faced the door.
*******************************************************
Of course I wasn’t "in love" with her, idiot. I’m not "in love" with anyone even now. I never have been.
Parkinson? Why her? One word: convenient.
But let’s face it. Pickings are slim these days. After the war, I’ve been lucky to find anyone under the age of sixty and over the age of fifteen still alive at all, much less likely to talk to me. Oh, yes. I’m the evil secret Death Eater! Beware! He comes, and he steals your wigs and spoils your cheese at night!
Milk? Are you sure it’s milk? And pigs? Oh, very well. You always have been a condescending git when it comes to the things you know.
It does NOT take one to know one!
Why choose her? She was available. She was actually cute, once she started gaining weight again. I can’t stand women who won’t eat.
Oh, please. I may use broomsticks, but I won’t shag one.
Fine. You may use the line as long as you credit me for it.
She challenged me. She dared to say I couldn’t make her want me. Of course I could, and I might have been a little miffed that she said … something about my abilities.
Shut up. I am not vain. I just know I’m better than most men.
Look, who’s telling this story, you or me?
Right. So I went to her place at seven precisely, and the vixen wasn’t there.
Tantrum? Of course not. I got very … angry with her toaster, that’s all. Ahem. So then I did my locator spell, and found out she was in a nearby restaurant. Perfect. I was a bit peckish after visiting her flat, and she did need to be taught a lesson.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo