A/N: I'm sort of HBP-framed here but I took some liberties with canon (Ginny's romantic timeline and Harry's honesty, Snape teaching Potions, etc), mea culpa, I hope you understand. I'm also a bit light on Draco's mentality at this time but see above. It's for the good of the sex; had to get the smut out of my system! Lastly please note this story has explicit elements and consider this your TW for everything. It features rough sex, dom-sub with a touch of dubious!con, breath-play, and blood-play. Better to be overzealous with the warnings, in my opinion. Do not read this story if this makes you uncomfortable.



He tugged hard on her hair, like a shock to her system. She had no idea and every idea of what she was doing. She was in control and helpless at the same time. He wanted to make it hurt, she wanted it to hurt.

Ginny woke up in a soft sweat, mid-gasp to an empty dorm bedroom. She had had the dream again. The glimpse of her mystery dream lover faded quickly, evaporating like a vapor. She ran her hand along her naked neck, catching her breath she kicked off her sheets and blankets, uncomfortably warm under them. She wasn't sure when the dreams had started, but they were coming more frequently and winding her up in a way she could no longer control.

Her heart rate stabilized slowly, as the images of the dream faded completely. She sat up slowly, sliding from bed, tugging her nightshirt to cover her body as she stumbled restlessly to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and stared at her reflection for a long moment in the old, greying mirror. Her hair always seemed redder in the morning, her skin paler, her eyes brighter. She looked at her wrists, empty of the rope burns and bruises she felt were there, she looked to her neck for the bite marks and finger digs she expected. None of it was real, but it would plague her every day, and every night again. Never real but real to her.


Ginny spent all morning in class doodling in her margins. She dragged her quill along the parchment, the vibrating scratch sending a stimulating chill up her arm. Ever since the dreams had started her concentration for academics had plummeted. She thought of hands grabbing her, she thought of dirty words whispered in her ear. She was unbelievably preoccupied with thoughts of a carnal nature. Shuffling from Transfiguration to Potions, she felt a hand run over her shoulder and the touch set her alight momentarily. She blushed as she realized the cause was Neville, catching her attention as he fell in step with her.

Would Neville...? she thought, flashing her eyes up towards him as he talked nervously about his impending Herbology exam. Could Neville? she wondered. They had gone to the Yule Ball together once upon a time, they had been close but not too close and it was 'always the quiet ones' or so they said. She distractedly nodded as he broke off and headed down a hallway and watched him recede. He apologized three times to a Hufflepuff girl he'd bumped into on the turn.

Too polite, Ginny ruled in her mind, turning back into the crowd heading toward the dungeons.

She spotted Dean a few paces in front of her and watched his tall head bob and weave through the other students. They had broken up not too long ago, but sex had been part of the problem. She doubted approaching him for this sort of a favor would really get anywhere. Besides, he was—like Neville—too nice to treat her in the way she wanted. She turned into the Potions classroom and settled into her seat, pulling out her notebook.

Maybe Snape, she thought, only half-joking herself as she watched the Potions master swirl his robes about the classroom, his arms bound to the wrist in tight black under cloth. Probably wouldn't mind a bit of bondage, she mused before chastising herself for the mad thought, gnawing on her lip as she returned to her doodles.


That night, the dream came to her again. Her dream lover stood over her, gripping her thighs and tugging them apart before entering her. He was a vision of darkness, but the way he gripped her skin, the way his cold words fell on her ear, it only reminded her of one person. Ginny woke that time to her own voice calling out, "Tom?" She held her breath as she saw a wand ignite across the room and a dorm mate called to her, asking if everything was all right.

"Fine," she whispered back. "Sorry. Bad dream."

"Sounded like a good dream to me," the other girl giggled softly in the quiet room before extinguishing her wand. Ginny caught her breath in the dark room, self-loathing pooling within her.


She spent the morning's breakfast trying to forget the name she'd called out that night, trying to put the whole matter behind her by sheer force of will. Before it had been random teen musings, her hormones in hyper-drive, not bold subconscious wanting of the man trying to change the world for the worse. "What's wrong with me?" she wondered.

She poked at the eggs on her plate, empty of appetite, trying to join Ron and Hermione's conversation. They were concerned about Harry, as usual; he had been sneaking off at all hours, preoccupied with following Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Maybe he has a crush on him," Ginny joked straight-faced, only smiling at Ron's twisted face of disgust.

"She was kidding, Ron," Hermione spoke dryly, rolling her eyes before returning to her morning paper.

Ginny scanned the Slytherin table, noting a lack of Draco Malfoy, which explained Harry's absence at their own table. When the blond entered the hall a moment later, Harry followed twenty steps behind.

Would Harry...? she wondered, unable to help herself as she tried to imagine Harry ever hurting anyone, even if it was being asked for in specific terms. There was really no way Harry could do anything like she'd want, even if Harry and Tom shared more similarities than differences. She pushed the thought from her head again, angry at herself for musing on the matter again.

"Following Draco again?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded his response.

"I'm thinking about skipping some classes. I think he's noticed I'm following him," Harry filled his plate sloppily. "He's going to the Room of Requirement when I'm in lessons now, I just know it."

"Absolutely not," Hermione frowned. "Only, I mean, we can help out. We all have different schedules. We'll follow him equally, or try to. If you think it's that important."

Harry took a long moment to respond, chewing thoughtfully. "Only if you stay safe. Keep your distance," Harry warned Ron and Hermione, forgetting—as they so often did—that Ginny was there.


In an effort to keep her mind preoccupied in safe territory, Ginny took to following Draco's shadow when she could. As Harry had warned, she stayed safe and kept her distance, observing him often out of earshot even.

With the removal from her subject, she was free to notice details about him. The first thing that stood out about him was how beautiful his hands were. They were large, but not freakish, with proportional fingers and neatly trimmed nails. He held everything with a sure grip, his knuckles locked and strong. His forearms were toned, shapely but lithe. He almost always had his right sleeves pushed up to the elbow, but kept his left arm covered.

He was really quite a beautiful person when you just observed him. He spat words, yes, he snarled and smirked, was nasty to other students, but at rest his face was almost angelic. He had a sharp nose and chin, high cheekbones, an aristocratic face that he kept clean and shaved. It was clear he took pride in his appearance and made an effort to maintain it. He was objectively handsome, and staring at him for hours on end was not the worst chore.

She followed him on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons mostly, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in Defense Against the Dark Arts and thus otherwise occupied. His routine was the same most days: she'd follow him from lunch to the library, he'd study or write down notes, then head back to the dungeons immediately. On the fourth day she followed him, he broke from routine and crossed the castle to a classroom in the second floor's deserted West corridor. Ginny made note of the room, and waited for him to emerge. It was nearly a half hour later that he exited the room, looking around somewhat guiltily, as if he expected to be followed there before heading back to the Slytherin dorms. Ginny returned the the room after dinner but found it empty—just a disused lecture hall.


That night she had the dream again, but the setting had changed. Instead of the same nondescript bedroom, she was in the lecture hall in the West corridor. Her phantom held her body down, laying back on top the lecture table, he gripped her neck, squeezing breath from her throat.

"You shouldn't want this. What would your family think," he told her, the deep voice sending electricity to ever erogenous zone on her body. His hands slid from her throat to her bare breasts, squeezing them harshly, his lips trailing her neck with hot, sloppy kisses. He tugged her thighs apart roughly and she gasped as he entered her, causing her to scream and writhe in pleasure-pain at her instant orgasm.

"Tell me, Ginny Weasley, has anyone ever used you like this?"


Ginny followed Draco the next afternoon she could with her wand ready. She had a strong suspicion that whatever he was getting up to in the lecture hall was something he shouldn't be doing. She had a hunch it was relevant to Harry's wonderings. Also, if the dreams were intensifying as they seemed to be, she had to find a way to focus her waking life on something else.

She followed him to the second floor and waited a few moments before approaching the door. She pulled on the rusted door handle ring carefully, old hinges giving an awful metal screech as the door swung ajar. "Hello?" She called out into the classroom, her grip on her wand tight.

Murmured voices bickered in the dim, and a disheveled Pansy Parkinson poked her pug-face out from behind the long lecture platform's desk. "This room is occupied," she sassed at Ginny. When she realized their interrupter wasn't a professor, she stood fully, clearly shirtless but covered by a brassiere. "Leave," she ordered in a spat.

Ginny got the hint, and red-faced apologized before pulling the door shut.

The dream came to her again, trimmed nails digging into her back, one hand tugging her hair back with incredible force as teeth bit down on her throat. "Beg for it," the voice demanded. "What do you need?"


She returned to the classroom Wednesday, skipping her afternoon Divination lesson. She walked around the lecture table, standing where Pansy had stood, crouching down to see there was quite a roomy setup on the soft wood platform. In the corner of the nook was a stash of a few pillows and blankets. She moved the items hoping they might hide something but returned them with a heavy sigh when she found nothing. Apparently it was just as simple as it looked, as innocent as it looked really. Ginny stood, looking over the abandoned classroom wondering if it was a known make-out corner for Slytherins. Maybe that was why her dreams had started to take place here.

She walked the perimeter of the classroom, opening a supply closet in the back corner and curiously entering it. There were all sorts of forgotten books in the closet, the latest dates seemed to be from over two decades ago. It seemed the classroom had once held Arithmancy—the textbooks and long-forgotten notebooks of calculations giving away the purpose. She reached for an antique glass abacus on a high shelf as she heard the door of the classroom squeak open.

Ginny pulled the closet door nearly shut immediately, wishing she'd looked around for rats or spiders before even entering the confined space. She peered out the small crack she'd left for herself, hoping it was just Draco and Pansy again but she could see no one in the limited range of the view.

Her heart began to beat wildly and she drew her wand, waiting for a few minutes of silence before opening the closet door cautiously.

She extended her armed hand in front of her as she walked out of the closet, jumping as someone shut the door behind her.

"Expelliarmus!" a voice called out and Ginny watched her wand fly out of her grip, clattering to the stone floor.

She turned in surprise to see Draco Malfoy, unaccompanied, his wand raised and his chest rising and falling with quickened breath. "What the fuck are you doing here? Stalking me? Like Potter?"

Ginny's mouth was too dry to even respond. He was angry, truly angry, and at that moment all Ginny could think of was how badly she wanted him to grab her. What do you need? the question pounded in her thoughts from the night before's dream.

"Well?" He impatiently demanded, crossing to her, grabbing her wrist to steer her to face him fully. Out of reflex her free hand reached up and clawed at his cheek, flesh scraping and his face recoiling as he cursed loudly in pain.

He took half a second to react before pushing her up against the stone wall, breath leaving her as her head smacked back against the stone and her vision briefly went dizzy. His hand, perfectly maintained and stronger than she'd imagined gripped at her throat, pinning her to the wall. His wand pointed at the space between her eyes as he stared her down. The silver of his irises was molten, liquid fury.

He was practically snarling, full of rage, blood now weeping from the scratches on his cheek. "You fucking bitch," he growled at her, gripping her throat as he tried to work up the will to curse her. After a long moment of silence he lowered his wand, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. It was more trouble than it was worth, and he couldn't risk the expulsion.

"You tell no one," he growled at her. "Or next time there will be no clemency," he threatened, walking backwards towards the door, not trusting her once she would get hold of her wand again.

"Draco," Ginny found her voice calling to him, dry and her throat hoarse, but she called out his given name. It stopped him in his tracks.

Ginny felt her body warm as the thought took over, her hands shaking at her side as she tried to find the nerve. "I have a proposition."

He didn't move from his spot, he didn't lower his wand, he didn't speak; but he also didn't leave.

"I want you to fuck me," the words tumbled from her lips warm, thankfully without cracking. They hit his ears like caramel, soft and sultry. Ginny had no idea the power she had. She had no idea that she was at her most beautiful, walking the sword's edge between corruptible innocence and knowing maturity. She was wild curves and untamed hair with oozing, natural self-possession. Those words from her plump lips sent blood between his legs without any conscious thought.

"Excuse me?" He asked, almost breathless, disbelieving. He kept his guard up only because this felt like an elaborate sort of trap. His cheek began to sting awfully.

She didn't seek to rearm herself though, she just stood there, back against the stone wall, her neck reddening where he had gripped her.

"I'm not asking for anything else. I don't even want tenderness... far from it," Ginny found her confidence, eyeing him like her next meal, predatory, daringly.

"You're mad," he uttered, raising his wand again half-heartedly.

"I want someone to fuck me and not love me. I want someone to bite me and scratch me and hold me down and use me. I'm sick of being precious and treated with caution. I'm not breakable, and I have needs," she explained, her eyes giving him a smoldering stare. "Hate me, and fuck me."

"Fuck off," he frowned, gathering his wits slowly but not able to leave the room. Don't fall for this, he warned himself.

She moved from the wall then, slinking up to him a few steps. "I'm serious. We don't have to be friends, we don't even have to talk really," she closed the distance then, placing a fingertip on the tip of his wand, steering it away from pointing at her as she leaned up on tip-toe and grazed her lips against his.

He couldn't resist her.

Draco pressed his face into the kiss, his empty hand pushing her lower back, pulling her up to meet him with passion. He growled as her teeth closed around his lip and tugged hard, drawing blood. He shoved her away, tasting copper and salt in his mouth. "The bitch bit me," he mind protested and he reached up to feel his lip, looking down for visual confirmation as she stepped back, gnawing her lower lip in tempting faux-innocence.

"Sorry," she murmured, seeming very unapologetic, her arms held behind her back, her breasts straining against her school sweater as she carefully gauged his reactions.

He should have said no. He should have ignored her. But there were things Pansy was unwilling to try and Draco's stress level had shot through the roof since he had returned to school. The Mark, and his impossible mission weighed on his mind heavily all of the time. Having more sex—dirty and wrong and violent sex at that—could only help his focus.

"Tomorrow, 3'oclock. The Room of Requirement. Wait inside. There's no way I'm doing this here," he agreed. "And this better not be some sort of trick or I'll break your fucking neck, I swear."

Ginny felt gooseflesh develop up at his words, hating herself for her arousal but feeling her cheeks flush. She nodded, accepting his terms. Ginny watched him retreat from the room before retrieving her wand, leaving the room reluctantly.


She laid awake that night, actually hoping for the dream. Somehow she couldn't fall asleep, feeling his hand gripping her throat, the shift in his silver eyes as he agreed, his fierce kiss. She could imagine the passion he would bring, lighting her skin on fire. They hated one another, really. Their families had hated one another, since forever. There was no reason why she should want this, and that was why she wanted it more than anything. She drew the curtains around her bed closed, laying back under the covers for a few more sleepless moments. She bit down on her lower lip hard, scraping her nails along her thighs as her thoughts imagined Draco's hands touching her. She imagined his voice drawling against her skin, she imagined him holding her down, making her beg. She rubbed at her own panties, not surprised to find them wet, slipping her fingers under the cotton to touch her sex.

She gasped and writhed under the covers, her eyes shut tight as she imagined the fate that waited for her in the dungeons. She couldn't wait.


Draco spent the morning distracted. He had made sure to cancel with Pansy, made sure no one was expecting him. This was all crazy to him. The fact that he was going to have Ginny Weasley, really have her. Forbidden fruit, really. If only her brother knew. The fact that she wanted him at all. She was lucky she was pretty. He still was unclear if this was some sort of trick. He decided the Room of Requirement might be all of the security he needed. If her intention was really to harm him, kill him, or trap him, then when he walked by the entrance, reason lead him to hope the door wouldn't appear if his intention was just sex.

At 3 o'clock on the dot he moved from his dorm to the corridors, finding his way to the Room of Requirement. The door appeared and he was pleased to find her already there as requested. The room was empty except for a bed, an ornate four-poster with school regulation sheets. She looked remarkably innocent, perched on the edge of the bed in her uniform.

He didn't speak a word, as he entered the room, his footsteps grabbing her attention. She smiled softly in his direction, rising to her feet. When he had stopped his approach, she pulled her sweater up and off, soft red locks falling around her shoulders as she dropped the wool garment to the floor. She began unbuttoning her oxford letting him just watching her for a moment.

"You know you have to get undressed to, to do this properly," she murmured, pulling apart the shirt and shucking it to the pile.

Draco nearly laughed as she mistook his resistance for modesty. "I'm still a little unclear at why we're doing this at all. Because everyone treats you like glass? I'm sure you can find someone who can take sex from you without falling in love with you."

"It's not just sex. It's this kind of sex," Ginny frowned. "Did you not get the point yesterday? You're thicker than you look," she exhaled.

Draco felt his blood start to boil, which was exactly her intention. "You are such a fucking annoyance. No wonder no one will fuck you."

"That's not what I said," she defended herself, getting frustrated at his tone. He was infuriating in this close proximity.

He stepped closer to her, pushing her hair off of her shoulder, lowering one of her bra straps carefully. His finger traced her shoulder as he watched her breathing speed up. He ran the same finger along the lace edge of the bra cup, the reality of the situation dawning on him slowly. The simplest possibility—that she was here for precisely what she was asking for—seemed to be the truth. He hooked his finger into the waistband of her skirt, pulling her closer as his lips descended on hers.

She pressed passion into the kiss, eagerly letting her body press against his, her tongue sliding into his mouth seeking attention. She wasn't an awful kisser, though she was clearly a little sloppy. He pulled his lips back, keeping their noses touching as he unhooked her skirt and eased it off of her hips. "Out of the shoes, leave the socks," he ordered her, stepping back.

She shivered at the tone in his voice but did as he asked, toeing off her shoes, standing before him in only undergarments. She had freckles all over from the tops of her thighs to her stomach, trailing up and over her breasts. They were light, but noticeable. He pulled off his sweater and slid off his shoes, stepping out of his trousers as he watched her stand there.

She was full of nervous energy, he could sense it from across the room, but he chose to make her wait.

Ginny watched him undress slowly. He drew his socks down and off, and unbuttoned his crisp white oxford, pausing at the last button before disrobing it. He stood only a few feet away from her in just his boxers and Ginny felt an ache between her legs at the thought that her dream was finally coming true. It had never mattered who made this fantasy real life but she realized she had picked precisely the right partner in all of this.

He tossed his discarded shirt onto the pile and Ginny's eyes widened at the mark tattooed to his left forearm. Somehow it made her seem more childish, more innocent. Somehow it made him want to corrupt her more.

"On the bed," he ordered and she did as he asked, settling on the edge of the bed, her breathing shallow as he approached her. He gripped each hip of her panties and tugged the material down her legs quickly, the change of speed in his movements making her heart race. She shivered as she found her sex bare and he tugged her knees apart, pushing between them as he kissed her again.

His lips were soft, his kisses soft as he cupped her cheek and fed her desire.

She pulled her lips back, withdrawing for a moment as she caught her breath. He kissed her again, his tongue running over her lips and she pulled back once more, this time slapping his face firmly.

He panted angrily as his cheek stung from where she had clawed him and he'd been healed. He turned back to face her, reaching around her back and making quick work of removing her bra. He tossed the garment to the floor behind him and let his hands rub over her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs as he kissed her again. He gave more force to the kiss thinking that was what she had requested with the slap. He wasn't used to complaints.

Ginny pulled back her lips and slapped him once more, Draco withdrawing his hands from her breasts, grabbing her waist and pushing her further onto the bed. His right hand fell to her sex, and he dragged his fingertips through her folds, pressing in just barely, enough to tease, pulling out to rub her clitoris in small circles. Ginny initiated a kiss then, tugging him to press his chest to hers, submitting to his steerage of the kiss briefly before pulling back once more. She raised a hand to strike him and he caught her wrist mid-air with a loud growl.

"Enough," he snapped at her, gripping her other arm, pinning her to lay back on the bed as he settled his hips between her thighs. His hands held her down as his mouth kissed and bit along her neck, proud to hear her actually begin to gasp and whimper in pleasure. He ran his tongue along one of her nipples, feeling her struggle once more before he bit down on the bud, suckling it once more before moving on to its twin. He let go of her wrists only to grip her hips, his bites trailing between her breasts and down to her stomach before he sat on his heels, pushing his boxers from his hips.

He asked no permission before entering her, pushing her into the bed with the force of his thrust. She was no virgin, and for that he was grateful. Her knees squeezed at his hips keeping him inside and her arms wrapping around him for security, her nails digging into his skin as he began to move.

He fucked her and fucked through her with thrusts unrelenting. In the beginning, he pulled out to the tip of his cock and pressed in to the hilt, stretching her with the most intense and satisfying burn. She was loud—a clear natural screamer. He took it as his challenge to make her make those unconscious noises, squeaks and deep satisfied grunts. Her nails dug deep into his skin, the pain spurring him on, but he couldn't last long.

Her muscles clung to him and with each soft whimper he grew closer. He pulled out of her before coming, shooting across the sheets beside her as he caught his breath.

Ginny laid back, panting. It hadn't been exactly what she wanted but she had never felt unsafe, which was a benefit.

Draco looked down at her, red hair splayed out on sheets and he just knew he hadn't performed to her expectation. Though he cared little for her, his ego was bruised. "You didn't come did you?" he asked, breathless. She reluctantly shook her head. Draco growled softly. "Give me a minute, we'll go again."

"That's all right, I don't..."

"No," he growled at her, finally catching his breath. He laid still beside her for a minute while he focused on hardening again. She sat up slowly, her hand running along his chest, down to his cock. Her fingers were soft, but she seemed to know what she was doing in this arena. Her grip was firm but not tight as she stroked him, her gaze flashing from his member to his eyes and back as she picked up her pace.

She ran her thumb around the tip of his cock and he shivered at the seasoned move. He looked up to her, busy with determination and for some reason he deeply felt the need to please her.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from his body, tugging her to lay flat again. He pressed his forehead against hers, sharing a breath as he entered her again. This time he took no pity, gripping her hair back as he kissed along to her jaw, his teeth scraping her ear as he held her down with all his strength, his hips beginning their assault.

His thrusts were metronomic and ceaseless, driving into her and giving her the most incredible sensations. She arched her back, angling into his thrusts, unable to help the constant gasping for pleasure. Every time he tugged her hair or bit down it only made her gasp more, his cock doing the most delicious things to her.

He let his grasp of her hair slack, kissing down her neck before pushing up on his arms hovering above her. In this new position he could angle more accurately, his pace picking up. They were both sweating, her breasts bouncing as she cheered him on with involuntary pleas of "yes" and "more" and "fuck" and "oh, Merlin."

She clawed at his arms and shoulders but he didn't slow, only observing her for signs of real pain. She gripped at the sheets below, gripped at his skin, gripped at her own body unable to find comfort at the strong force of her own physical reaction. He kept pounding her, pushing physical tire to the back of his mind as he focused on her.

She scratched her nails across his chest and he growled with his release at the added stimulation, not slowing his movements, not withdrawing.

"Come," he ordered, and she fell apart at the permission, her leg muscles giving violent spasms at his sides, her arms trembling as she gripped at her breasts and screamed his name. His name.

"Draco," rang in his ears as he slowed his hips.

She began to come down from her orgasm, but he didn't want to lose the momentum of the moment. After a few seconds of caught breath, and without a word, he withdrew, turning her over to lie flat on the bed. Her skin was glistening in the candlelight of the room, the sweet smell of her sex filling his nostrils.

His hands gripped her waist, keeping her flat as he entered her from behind, laying on top of her as he began to drive into her body.

Whether it was from shock, or surprise, or pleasure, she cried out. Her nails clawed at the bed, and it only seemed natural to Draco that he bend an arm up and grip at her throat. Again, his mouth found her ear and he licked the rim before biting hard on her earlobe, tugging at the skin.

She was animal-like in her ecstasy, tears and sweat pouring down her face. Her breasts and body were pressed into the bed, unable to move as he used her, drilling inside of her tight muscles and giving her the most incredible feeling of helplessness. She could feel the meat of her body vibrating under his thrusts and felt herself near orgasm again.

Her breaths grew shallow underneath the hand on her throat.

"I finally figured it out," he murmured hotly against her ear, forcing her hips to meet his slightly faster, his grip on her throat tightening but not enough to restrict all of her air, just holding her firm. Her pussy was drenched, sliding his hard cock inside and out of her tight insides with little resistance, only pleasure. "You want to be fucked," he punctuated the final word with a hard thrust to meet her. "You want to be used," again the same movement as his momentum built.

"You want to be a Death Eater's whore," he growled into her ear, gripping her throat, his pace growing frantic. He could see her knuckles growing white as she gripped the mattress with extreme might, gasping and mewling despite her restricted air. The unrelenting pace went on for no more than another moment before she brought a hand to his grip on her throat, clawing at his fingers for release. When he granted it, she cried out loudly, shivering with spasms, her muscles dancing around his cock pulling another orgasm from him with no time to withdraw.

Her hips rocked back onto his cock as he slowed his thrusts, slowing and stopping only as he softened inside of her.

She said nothing, nor did she pull from the embrace, his arms wrapped around her as his panting mouth pressed against the back of her neck. Eventually, he withdrew, lying beside her as she rolled onto her back again.

Draco slowly stood, pulling on his boxers again before walking from the bed to resist the temptation of another round or any affection. He began to dress, glancing back to her, used and sweating in a heap—covered in nothing but knee socks.

She said nothing as he dressed, only watched him in silence, brown saucer eyes following his every movement.

"When do we do this again?" she asked softly, her voice ringing out like a bell in the room. She hadn't really spoken much in the entirety of the afternoon, only whimpers and brief grunts. Draco scanned her body, unable to convince himself the afternoon wasn't worth repeating. She was beautiful and broken in ways no one else could see. If she wanted to continue offering herself to him, who was he to deny her? He felt better than he had in weeks.

"Tomorrow night. Make sure no one sees you. Midnight," he found himself agreeing to it, pulling on his sweater, now fully dressed.

"Don't hold back next time," she purred, sending a jolt of electricity straight through him with the words.

"I won't," he agreed, leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.