Come On, Virginia

Come On, Virginia

Breathless, she slammed the door behind her. She leaned on it, panting. He had pursued her through the old house for the last half-hour.

How did he find out where I was? she thought. She felt like prey as her heart jack hammered in her chest.

"Virginia," he called, drawing out her name until it sounded more like a moan. Oh, God, and what his moans sounded like.... The thump her heart then gave had nothing to do with being prey and everything to do with being a woman.

She held up her wand and softly whispered, "Lumos," shielding the resulting light with her hand. Who knows how much he can see now.

The room she was in seemed to be a bedroom. The roof sloped sharply from the doorway to the exterior wall opposite her. Night shone dully thought the window. If she screamed, only he would hear her and that would defeat the purpose. Tucked under the window was one bed, another against the wall to her right.

Nowhere to hide...nowhere to hide....

A creak sounded from the staircase half a flight down, the tread of a man stepping carefully.

She froze against the door, not daring to even move under one of the beds. "Nox," she whispered, dousing her wand-light.

"Virginia," he called again, more playful this time. It sounded as if he was at the top of the staircase. Too late, she realized she should have cast a locking charm. If she tried now, he would either hear her or be able to detect the charm as she cast it.

Frozen in place, she nearly screamed when she heard, "Alohomora!" and the door to the room next to her slam open. By the echo, she guessed it to be the attic.

After hearing him cast a barrier charm on the stairwell, he ascended the stairs to the attic. Above her head, the floorboards groaned ominously.

His last room to search was the one she was in. He's toying with me, she realized. He knows I'm in here. But he was letting the tension of the hunt be drawn out with every creak and groan of the floorboards.

She moved slowly behind the door, intending to use it to hide herself for an extra few seconds. She searched her mind for some spell or curse that would disable him quickly. Since his...initiation...he was too powerful for her to win against in a duel, if it came down to that.

She didn't want to kill him. For all that he had done - had become - she still loved him.

The footfalls on the attic stairs told her he was returning to her hideout. She held her wand in her right hand, ready to use to door as a shield.

"Come on, Virginia," he said, voice sibilant in the darkness. If only it weren't summer, she thought, suddenly aware of the way her dress was plastered to her body as a thrill shot through her at his voice. Hating herself for her body's weakness, she clutched her wand tighter.

"I was a Seeker and you're a lot bigger than a golden Snitch," he said softly through the door. It sounded as if he were leaning against it.

In the distance, she saw heat lightning brighten the sky. Yes, but I was a Chaser and tonight I'm prey. Things change.

Though she was expecting it, she jumped when he yelled, "Alohomora!" and the bedroom door crashed in on her.

Her hand shot around the door at chest level and she cried, "Stupefy!" in the instant she waited to hear his body fall, stunned, he rounded the door and said, almost casually, "Bindus corpus tergus."

Leather bands shot from the ceiling and fastened her hands above her head. Bands from the floor fastened her feet. Lastly, a band encircled he head to act as a gag. Her wand clattered to the floor. Too late, she realized he expected her defense and merely stood to the side after opening the door.

"Well, well," he began, his green eyes flashing in anticipation. She struggled for only a moment until she realized each movement strained her breasts against the fabric of her dress. When his tongue traced his upper lip, it was all she could do not to moan.

Even though she knew what he was, what had had become, she wanted him. My dirty little secret.

Brining his wand up, he used it to close the door and lock it. "Don't want any disturbances," he murmured, stepping closer.

Sweat trickled down her back, gathering at the base of her spine. Thunder could now be heard to accompany the lightning. Heat pooled between her thighs.

"You've led me on a hunt, Virginia," he growled in her hear, deliberately standing close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, but not quite touching her.

Her eyes closed. She was afraid he might see the truth in them - that although she had run, she wasn't entirely sorry she'd been caught.

With his wand, he traced the cord of her neck, forcing a shiver from her. She could almost imagine that the wood was burning her skin for the way it made her feel.

As he moved the tip from her collarbone to the hollow between he breasts, he whispered, "A merry chase." Then she felt his tongue follow his wand, drinking the salt from her skin.

Her eyes shot open and a moan escaped the gag. I'm melting, she thought. He lifted his head enough to meet her gaze. If asked later, she would swear his eyes glowed - green light pierced the darkness.

"You were promised to me by the Dark Lord, Virginia," he explained. Stepping back to the window and looking out, he continued, "The night I got this -" he thrust his left forearm into the feeble light of the window, a bolt of lightning illuminating the snake and skull tattoo in excruciating detail "- I was promised you as a reward." She trembled.

Brining his gaze back to her, he pledged, "I will take my reward now." With a small wave of his wand, he cast two spells in quick succession - "Finite incantatem" and "Bindus vox." The bands at her wrists and ankles disappeared, as did her gag, but when she tried to scream, she had no voice, not even a whisper.

A feral smile appeared. "Accio Ginny."

She shot forward into his arms before she could recover from the shock of having her voice stolen.

Pressed head to toe against his body, she could finally be positive that he wasn't as calm and collected as he had projected. Where his bare arms met the skin left bare by her dress, he burned. A thin sheen of sweat covered him. And, as he pulled her hips closer, she felt his arousal, hand and demanding.

Had she a voice, she would have gasped. The wild ride of emotions he had taken her on since the beginning of the case irretrievably plummeted to desire. However much she hated the reason for the pursuit, the Mark on his arm and his assertion that he would have her, in her heart of hearts she had acquiesced.

He can't know that, she thought. It can't be easy for him.

She squirmed in his arms, trying to break free. Thunder rumbled outside, close enough to be felt in the floorboards. He tangled his left hand in her hair, tumbling it from the pins and holding her head still.

"The storm is about to break," he rasped, then ravaged her mouth. His tongue plundered her mouth, taking and taking before gentling and merely possessing. His right hand skimmed down her back, over her hip, down her thigh. Slowly, he drew her leg up and wrapped it about his waist, fitting himself into the notch between her legs.

Laughing darkly when she melted against him, he picked her up and carried her to the bed against the wall. She writhed against him, whatever resistance she had had now overcome.

He lay her down and covered her body with his. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss equally, tongue dueling with his.

After a long minute - and a shift of his hips - he pulled her arms from his neck and held them above her head. She hadn't realized his wand was still in his right hand until he waved it over her arms and said, "Bindus manus." He then cast a Silencing Charm on the room and, waving his wand over the throat, whispered, "Finite incantatem."

"You bastard," she spat, tugging on her wrists. She was willing, for Merlin's sake. Why did he bind me again?

His eyes glowing again, he replied, "Curse me if you must," before ripping her dress down the center, leaving her naked but for her knickers. That green gaze scorched a path from her face to her toes, leaving her burning, in anger and desire, in their wake.

Slowly, he got up and stood next to the bed, taking off his shirt. Surprisingly, the only marks on him were the Mark and the scar at his left elbow from the night of the Third Task - both from Voldemort. The scars he would have had from saving her from Voldemort's basilisk had been healed by phoenix tears.

"Why did you go him after what he's done to you? Your family?" she demanded, trying to keep strength in her voice as his hands moved to the fastenings on his jeans. Almost simultaneously, lightning and thunder crashed outside. The heat before the storm pressed against her skin almost as much as he had.

"That's none of your concern, Virginia," he answered. With nearly a single motion, he kicked off his shoes and undid the fastenings of his jeans, allowing them to fall. He kicked out of them as well and climbed back onto the bed. "You're mine tonight and I don't care about the hows or whys."

His mouth possessed hers again, shutting off any further inquiry. When one hand covered her breast, she whimpered, but the sound could have been that of either arousal or fear. She closed her eyes when he began kneading her.

Ending the kiss with a nip of her lower lip, he rasped, "Do you think I've tortured you enough?" Saying nothing, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. With a triumphant smile, he growled, "Yes," and divested them of their remaining clothing. The storm broke overhead, sending rain pelting the roof and through the open window.

Her screams and moans mixed with his, their joining masked by the Silencing Charm and the storm.

* * *

Some time later, her arms freed, Ginny traced the Dark Mark on Harry's arm. "Harry?"

He lifted his head from her shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Can we get rid of this now? I really don't like seeing it on your arm."

He grinned and performed the charm to remove the temporary tattoo.

"How did Ron take it when you asked about a Dark Mark?"

Laughing, he wrapped Ginny in his arms. "Badly, of course. Had Hermione fussing over me all afternoon until I sent them home." Then, after kissing her fiercely, he continued, "But how am I supposed to tell them that my wife wanted to play 'Death Eater and Auror'?"

"Mmm," she murmured, snuggling closer. The rain had broken the oppressive heat that had hung over the Burrow for a week - just the period of time Harry had been gone on his latest assignment.

Smiling wickedly, she suggested, "Maybe next time it can be 'Sultan and slave girl.' Hermione had some ideas for that...."

Harry stopped that train of thought with a kiss that inevitably led to other things.

Come On, Virginia © 2003 by Trisha Masen 0 March 2003 06:18