One-Shot. Young Susan Bones loses her innocence in a traumatic encounter with Draco Malfoy.
Warning: This story isn't graphic, but is rated T for a good reason.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (or Dorian Gray)
"Watch it Susan," Hermione Granger warned, her voice high-pitched and frantic. "You're about to add five-sixths of a cup of cellulose gel. We only need three-eighths. You'll ruin the whole thing and we need to get a good mark!"
"I'm sorry," she said.
Ever since that night last summer, Susan Bones felt differently about a lot of things. Everything that was once important was called into question. It's funny how one night could so simply reroute a life. She once cared more about school. But now she sat below a torch in Snape's dungeon, not caring whether her potion worked or exploded in her face. She once cared about her friends, but now even Justin had grown weary of the changes in her.
"Susan, add the vitreous solution and stir!"
She added it but didn't stir.
"Ugh, I'll do it myself," Hermione grumbled.
The redhead's eyes wandered around the dungeon and fell on Draco Malfoy at the back table. He was goofing off, flinging lizard tails into Nott's hair; just being a teenage boy. Nothing had changed for him.
He sensed her eyes on him, and he raised his elegant head, his cold, pale eyes piercing right through her. She tried to maintain eye contact, to hold that penetrating, evil gaze, but she couldn't. She looked away. When she raised her eyes again, he'd already forgotten her and was back to his potion. Yes, nothing had changed for him…
It was a warm night in mid-July when Susan's sister insisted on taking her to what she promised would be "The Party of the Year". Susan had no interest in going, but found herself flying over London anyways, heading to the Malfoy manor somewhere up north. She knew Draco Malfoy by sight, not by name; she wasn't the kind of girl he spoke to, let alone the kind that got invited to his home. His house was huge—his family owned a large plot of land, and the backyard was all decked out for a spectacular mid-summer party. Fairies and lights and tables of hors d'oeuvres littered the lawn.
Susan spent the first few hours of the night sitting alone, watching her schoolmates dance and party. She was about to cry from that horrible feeling of loneliness when a tall figure sidled alongside her.
"Why's a pretty redhead like you standing as a wallflower?" He inquired. His features were even more handsome up close. Those piercing eyes and sleek hair were like something out of a fairytale. His speech was a little slurred from the alcohol, but for the most part, he had himself under control.
"Just watching," she replied, her voice a few notes higher than normal. She couldn't look him in the eyes, and she could feel the blush heat up her cheeks.
"What's your name?"
He smiled at her and it made her stomach swoop. "I'm—"
"Draco Malfoy, I know." She cut him off and turned red. "We…uh…were in the same Charms section last year." And in the same year for a while now," she added privately.
"Oh yes, I remember." But he didn't. "Well, Susan Bones, why don't you sit tight and I'll bring you a drink?" Before she could reply, he grazed his long, slender fingers over hers, and she shivered. He stood and disappeared into the throng of his friends.
She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. Nobody as beautiful as Draco Malfoy had ever paid attention to her. And she could hardly believe it even happened. He reminded her of a character she'd once read about in a Muggle novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. Draco's beauty was as striking and unnerving as Dorian's. She wondered wryly if Draco's charm and comeliness would be the death of her like Dorian's had been for so many who knew him.
But she shook those thoughts from her mind when he returned, his long dress robes sweeping gracefully behind him. He place a slender glass filled with blood red liquid before her. "A firey drink for a fire-haired girl, I think." His voice was light and suave.
"Thank you. What is it?" She took a sip and pulled a face. It was bitter and sweet at the same time.
He smiled, his knee brushing feather-light against hers. "It's complicated, yet delicious…just like you."
She averted her eyes. He laid an elegant hand clad with gold rings on her shoulder, invading her personal space and making her slightly uncomfortable. She could smell his scent, sense the heat of his body, and feel his hand and the slight chill of the ring on her bare skin. It was uncomfortable, yes, but exciting. She took another sip. The drink tasted better as she got used to it.
"That's it, Firefly, drink up." His voice was barely above a whisper. And why didn't he blink when he looked at her?
Firefly? She'd never been called by a pet name before. From anybody.
Susan downed the drink and tried weakly to return his unwavering smile. "Thank you, it was good."
"Then allow me to get you another one."
"Oh no, one was really—"
He snapped his fingers and a small house elf clad in a rag tottered up holding a tray with a second red drink. Susan took it shyly and drank it, not wanting to offend her host. He made small talk with her, watching her intently with his cold eyes. She did her best to keep up her end of the conversation, but she was starting to feel funny. Every time she turned her head, it took a moment or two for the surroundings to catch up. That was odd; she hadn't had a headache earlier…
And then Draco's face swam in and out of focus, and Susan was alarmed. She clutched her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut against a high-pitched ringing in her ears. Something whacked her on the side of the head and when she opened her eyes, she was staring at the legs of a chair. She'd fallen over and it was the ground that had hit her. She tried to right herself but couldn't. Why was this happening?
The ringing in her ears turned into a low buzzing and finally a creaking. When she opened her eyes next, she was on a bed in a spacious room with high ceilings. Draco's face swam into focus above her, but only briefly, before it muddled with the tapestry on the wall behind him. The weight shifted on the bed behind her; there was someone else there. She craned her neck to see who it was, but her shoulders were pinned by strong arms.
"No Firefly." It was Draco's voice, cold and airy. "You hit your head and we'll take care of you."
"What happened?" She'd said it, but she didn't recognize her voice.
Somebody was pulling her knees apart; her limbs were splayed in all directions. It was hard to breathe because her robes were pushed up over face. Susan slipped away again, and when she came to, he had already penetrated her. She was a virgin and he didn't know it. It stung, but not too painfully like she'd been taught to fear. It was humiliation—the complete disregard for her as a person to make choices for herself—that hurt more than anything.
And she was scared. This wasn't how it should have happened. Sex wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to fall in love and be swept off her feet, before giving away her virginity—the most precious intangible thing she could think of. This wasn't supposed to be taken from her, forcefully, as she was sprawled on a strange bed unable to speak for herself.
She blacked out again and when she opened her eyes, she had no idea how much time had passed, but there was still movement above her. She heard the two male voices so distant, yet so far away. She was on her side, her leg being held up by a large hand. Someone was behind her, taking her. She moaned for them to stop, but they took that to mean she liked it and kept going.
"Shh baby, enjoy it," came another male voice, deeper, gruffer. "Most girls would kill to be in your spot."
"Ohh…" The tears spilled from her eyes. Why wouldn't they stop? Couldn't they see she wanted it to stop?
Susan was out for what seemed like a while, but it might have been only a few minutes. She couldn't tell for sure. When she raised her head, she was back outside, sleeping slumped against a table. The party had pretty much cleared save for a handful of people. Her head smarted and she remembered whacking it on the floor. And that burning feeling between her legs—it took her a moment to place what it was. Had all that really happened? Yes. She came to terms with it. Yes, it had happened.
And she started to cry.
"Susan! Susan, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Her older sister ran up to her, clutching their broomsticks in one hand. "Oh Merlin." She stopped dead. "What has happened to you!"
Her sister dropped the broomsticks and they hit the floor with a clatter. She sunk to her knees beside the sobbing teenager. Arms wrapped tightly around Susan's shoulders. Her head was pulled into the crook of a slender neck. The smell of perfume and hair potion filled her nostrils and the tears stung her eyes.
"Susan, talk to me! You're scaring me!"
But she wouldn't tell; she couldn't. Shame filled every ounce of her being. She would never tell another living soul what happened in that high ceilinged room deep within the Malfoy manor. Who had been in there with her? It was Draco and one other person. She wasn't even sure what happened entirely herself.
Susan was in no condition to fly after her ordeal. Her sister ditched the broomsticks with one of the house elves and took her home via the floo network. Susan spent the rest of her summer holidays in her room, with no desire to speak to anyone else.
Her parents and family initially assumed it was the death of her Aunty Amelia that sent her into her depression, or "funk", as they called it. But before long, her sister cracked, admitting they had snuck out to a party at the Malfoy manor. Her parents didn't have the energy to be angry. They pleaded with Susan to tell them what had happened that fateful night.
It was the week before Susan was due back at Hogwarts for the next school year. Her mother knocked on her door saying she had a visitor. Susan was still in her night dress and had not cleaned her hair or teeth in days. But she no longer cared about her appearance. It just wasn't important. She ambled into the front room, wondering where she summoned the energy to meet her 'visitor'.
She stopped dead when she saw him and broke out into a cold sweat. Draco Malfoy was in her home, sitting on her arm chair. The nonchalance and arrogance on his face shook her to her core.
"Susan," he said pleasantly, standing up when she walked in.
She stared at him. Anger and pain pulsed through her veins, but was overcome by a feeling of helplessness. How dare he come to her home and look her in the face like nothing happened? Like he'd done no wrong?
"You and your sister left your brooms at my house that night of the party," he told her. "I thought I'd bring them to you before the school year began."
He held them out to her but she didn't take them.
"I know what you did to me."
He blinked, his look plainly saying, 'I don't know what you're talking about'.
"How can you live with yourself?" She whispered, the pain apparent in her voice. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she physically could not look into his eyes.
"You have me mistaken with someone else." He told her calmly and he believed every word he spoke. "I have never wronged you, Miss Bones."
The sinking feeling of helplessness evaporated and was replaced full-force by rage. She lunged at him as hard as she could, hitting him in the stomach, the face—anywhere she could reach—with all her might. "You know what you did to me! You know!" She screeched. Her throat felt hot, as if it might tear from the screaming.
Her parents and sister rushed into the room, prying her off the stoic blonde. He hadn't flinched at neither her fists nor her screams.
"Susan, what's gotten into you?" Her mother cried, alarmed.
"I was merely returning your daughters' broomsticks, ma'am." Draco said primly. "Your daughter attacked me. I will not stay around for such abuse." He left her home with his chin held high. In his mind, he was the victim entirely.
"Susan, oh Susan…" Her mother noticed how shaken her daughter was. She hugged her tightly. "Susan, that boy did something to you, didn't he? You have to tell me what that boy did."
Susan cried harder than she'd ever cried in her life as her parents and sister shook her, asking—no, demanding—answers. Each sob jolted her chest like it might break a rib. She couldn't hold them off forever, and the story fell from her lips, scattered and pained, among her coughs and hiccups. When she finished, her family hugged her and held her. They told her it wasn't her fault. She felt numb, and although she knew they were trying to help, it didn't matter. No matter which way she looked at it, it had still happened in the end.
And nothing would ever change that.
"Susan..? Susan, will you please listen to me?"
She turned and looked into Hermione Granger's hair-framed face. To her surprise, the girl looked concerned.
"You've been different this year, Susan. What's happened?" She stirred the potion absentmindedly, her head cocked to one side.
Susan rested her chin on her hands, studying the ceiling of the potions dungeon. The ceiling was high here too—like it had been at Draco's home.
"It's a long story, Hermione. One that I don't want to get into in double potions class."
Hermione smiled as if she understood. She cut her brown eyes over to Susan. "It's about a boy, isn't it?"
"Why you've been acting strange. It's about a boy." She explained matter-of-factly. "It is, isn't it?"
Susan sighed, glancing at Draco. "I guess you could say that."
"Well, just so you know," Hermione continued, sprinkling some crushed Pixie nails over the top of the potion, "boys lie."
"Boys lie." Susan repeated, not sure of how she should respond to that.
"Yes. Boys lie."
She watched Snape admire the contents of Malfoy and Nott's cauldron. He patted them each on the back in praise and awarded the Slytherin house some points. Draco smiled up at him. His eyes drifted across the room and landed on hers, flashing. It was still enough to jolt the air from her lungs.
Susan sat down, leaning her back against the cool wall. "Boys lie, huh? You know what, Hermiome?" She began slowly, as she replayed the events of her encounters with Draco Malfoy in her mind.
"You're a very smart girl, Hermione…but I don't think even you will ever know just how truthful that is."
The brunette blinked at her, confused.
"And pray to Merlin that you never will."
I hope you guys enjoyed this story; it's my first ever Harry Potter fic. I know there are some sensitive topics discussed, so I hope nobody was too upset by it. Please leave me feedback. I love reviews!