Chapter 7

Ginny couldn't quite put her finger on it, but Narcissa's mood seemed different today. The older witch was almost grave, a dramatic contrast to her usual exaggerated superciliousness. After a few cursory attempts at their normal exercises, Narcissa gave up.

“Ginevra, darling, I think that I have imparted to you all the knowledge I can," she said with a sparkle of her customary ostentation. “In truth,” she continued, “I believe the time draws nigh for you to play your own game.”

Narcissa favored Ginny with a sincere smile, and Ginny was reminded of how beautiful Narcissa really was, even as she couldn't help but laugh. “You sound like fortune teller from a Muggle movie!” Ginny told her.

“Well, darling, after your instruction at Hogwarts from Professor Trelawney, I am sure there's nothing I can teach you on that subject,” Narcissa rejoined airily.

And with this, the lesson ended, but Ginny remembered Narcissa's comment. She was indeed an attentive student, and she knew full well that it was a notice.

Ginny was startled that evening when Lucius swept into the room. She turned from the bookcase that she was half-heartedly perusing at the sound of the door closing heavily, and the expression on Lucius' face immediately alerted her that his mood was dark indeed.

As he strode towards her, she took a moment to be thankful that although he was angry, he apparently was not angry at her. He was intimidating anyhow, but she simply waited calmly to see what would happen.

Stopping in front of her, Lucius studied her intently, finally raising his fingers to trace lightly over her face, and she couldn't help but close her eyes and sigh softly. And then, just as intently, he moved even closer, backing her up to the wall, his fingers sliding down through her robe to pinch her breasts and skim down her stomach, and all the while her soft sighs continued, increasing to breathy murmurings. When his fingers easily slid right into the sticky dampness at the center of her, she actually squealed a little, and his answering growl made her knees weaken terribly.

Emboldened by his odd mood, Ginny let her hands roam over Lucius as he continued to toy with her, filling her fingers with his hair, stroking the bulge at the front of his velvety soft robes. Between both their distracted attempts, they managed to get his clothing sufficiently out of the way, and without further preliminaries, she found herself hoisted up against the wall.

Everything from there was a frantic blur, a confused jumble of Lucius thrusting almost violently into her, his teeth biting almost painfully into her throat and shoulders. She was near to coming, but something about the angle kept prolonging the pleasure while bringing her no closer, and she was squirming against him, and her moans were almost sobs.

Lucius ceased long enough to push her up against the wall more securely and spoke into her ear as she let her head slump onto his shoulders, hanging onto him for dear life. Punctuating each word with a thrust, he snarled, “You are mine, Ginevra Weasley,” to which she could only assent, pressing tiny kisses on his neck and shoulders as she cried his name out and came.

In the grip of dissatisfaction, Lucius gorged himself on Ginevra's flesh—against the wall, over the chair, on her knees on the floor. The more he took from her, the more she gave. The harder he pushed her, the more she yielded. Finally, they ended in the bed.

He laid back and watched her astride him, her eyes closed in concentration, breasts shining with sweat and bouncing with her efforts. As he gripped her hips and pulled her down sharply, she hissed slightly at the almost painful pressure, and a half-smile broke over her face as she arched the column of her neck back wantonly, her hair falling behind her to drag on his legs.

Here it was then, the crux of what was between then, something both simpler and more complex than mere sentiment: his desire to master and her yearning to be mastered. He had no use for love, but he may well have had use for this, if only the game he and Ginevra played had been just between the two of them.

There was no more time for thinking as Ginevra moaned softly and slumped down on him, exhausted. Wrapping her to him tightly, he continued to drive into her until his own exhaled hiss, and then, for the first time, he fell into sleep with her in his big bed.

Ginny sat composed as Narcissa entered the room. Her hair was braided sleekly, and she wore smart new black robes. Her expression was bland, but her pallor showed somewhat as her freckles were more prominent than usual. Still, Narcissa thought, good game face.

“I take it he did not tell you?” she inquired gently.

“No, the house-elf told me. I am ready to leave,” Ginny replied without inflection. Narcissa felt a small twinge of pride. It would take a most astute observer to recognize that tone as despair and not snobbery.

“This is what shall occur--I myself will Apparate you to a secure location. Once you are left there, you may use a Portkey, which will take you back to your family.”

Ginny nodded slowly as Narcissa went on. “I must also tell you that we have a bit before we depart, and I must prepare. However, there may be someone that you would wish to see on the last door to your right, and I am sometimes forgetful about warding this door.” And, opening the door in question, Narcissa left.

Ginny could actually hear her blood roaring in her ears as she turned the knob of the last door on the right, opening it to reveal Lucius' study, just as it had been the first day of her capture.

He stood in front of the fireplace, and at her small hitch of breath, he turned and began to icily reprimand the intruder. “I believe I made it quite clear,” he began, only to stop at the sight of her. “Ginevra,” he said simply.

Without consideration or forethought, Ginny rushed across the room. Once in Lucius' arms, her mind filled with thoughts from the bathroom, seemingly so long ago now. This could be the end. Then, she was concerned with her life. Now, she was worried about something else, and since it was the end, she disregarded the consequences, pressing her lips to Lucius' and burying her fingers in his silvery hair as she pulled his face to hers.

At the slight sound, Lucius turned angrily. Narcissa or house-elf, he wanted no part of them at the moment, but when he turned, he instead found Ginevra. This was a tranquil, serene little thing, neatly braided and dressed, quite unlike his knickerless, squealing little witch. Before he could speak, he found himself with an armful of the girl he was familiar with, a Ginevra kissing him with abandon and whispering, “Goodbye, Lucius. Oh, goodbye.”

He assumed it was the surprise that caused him to kiss her back greedily, and as she sighed goodbye, he growled, “For now, Ginevra.” When he let her go, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hair and robes, suddenly that placid creature again. Then she flashed him a wicked smile.

“For now, Lucius,” she said, and then she was gone.

I'm just like an apple on a bough

And you're gonna shake me down somehow.

So, what's the use, you've cooked my goose

'Cause you took advantage of me!

I'm so hot and bothered that I don't

Know my elbow from my ear.

I suffer something awful each time you go

And much worse when you're near.

Here I am with all my bridges burned,

Just a babe in arms where you're concerned.

So lock the doors and call me yours

'Cause you took advantage of me.

- Lorenz Hart & Richard Rogers, ”You Took Advantage of Me”