The Charm

He ran his gaze over the Great Hall. Who would it be this time?
Whey-faced Pansy Parkinson? No, not again. Not a Slytherin this time. A Gryffindor? That would teach them. Stuck-up little bitches.

Maybe the wonderful Hermione Granger? Too toothy. And he could afford to be choosy. Now he could pick anyone he wanted. Not Granger. The Patil twins? Definitely. But not tonight. He was tired tonight. Just one. Just one very special one. Not a Gryffindor.

Then he saw her. The obvious choice. Cho Chang. Oh, she would do just fine.

He waited for her to get up. She was leaving with her friends as he made his way towards her. I won't catch up, he worried, and his frustration mounted. But then to his joy, she stopped. Cho Chang, Know-It-All Chang, had left a book at her seat. She went back to retrieve it.

She might never have noticed him; almost surely she wouldn't have before. But now she had no choice. Now he had the charm.
He brushed passed her and whispered, "Servis Amoris." Her ears twitched and she looked up slowly, letting the book slip through her fingers. Now she had to notice him.
"Come with me," he ordered. She blinked her eyes in acquiescence and followed him. He knew the way. He had been there so often in the past weeks, since he had learned the charm. It had given him everything he wanted. Two little words, and they would have to notice him. They would have to obey him.

She trailed dazedly behind him and up the spiral staircase into the disused room. Here was where he became strongest. His own private sanctuary. He pointed to a desk he had brought into the room on his last visit.
"There." She moved over to it and was about to sit down.
"No. Don't sit."
She had her back to him. He stole up behind her and grabbed her hair in a fistful. "Bend," he hissed, and forced her to lean over the desk until she put her hands down for support.

"You want me, yes?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Close your eyes." He reached under her skirt and between her legs. His hand rubbed against her utilitarian undergarments.
"You want me very much," he told her, and she nodded.
He slipped one finger under the elastic legband. She was very warm.
"I'm going to fuck you now."

He tore her knickers down sloppily and flipped up her skirt. This is Cho Chang's arse, he reminded himself. He looked up; it was all aligned perfectly.
He could see her, and behind her, he could see himself. He watched the look of pained desire on her face as he entered her. He watched his reflection.

His movements seemed so strong as he drove himself into her. Her grip on the desk slipped a bit and she had to steady herself. He didn't let up his assault. She was moaning now, awkwardly holding the desk with one hand as the other rubbed between her legs. She was loving every second of it. Cho Chang. He was fucking her. No more "Oily Goyle"! He was wanted by the school's most popular girls. They had all been or would be up here. And he would fuck each and every one and watch himself as he did it. Watch the faces that once looked on him with loathing now lose themselves in ecstasy. He had the charm now. It was him they wanted, not Potter, not Malfoy, not Flint. It was Goyle, and he was going to fuck every last fucking one of those whores. As he came inside her, Cho twisted in orgasm.

Making his after-dinner rounds, Albus Dumbledore saw that Gregory Goyle stood for the third consecutive night in the disused classroom, alone and in front of the Mirror of Erised.