Fic: Nice Boy
Mar. 27th, 2003 02:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ivyblossomTitle: Nice Boy
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This fic contains incest. Het incest, at that. I realize this is a problem for many people, including myself, so if you can't handle it, don't read this. Thanks. In case you're wondering, it's because of content that I'm locking this post.
A/N: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
epicyclical for talking to me about Ginny, and to nefeleo for being the alpha reader and for pointing out two blatant typos. Much love. *rubs noses*
The details: This fic is a sequel to Under, which I posted a few days ago. (Big warning on that one too: NC-17 non-con and violence. I wonder what the hell is up with me lately, man.) I thought of making this a chaptered fic, but I seem to be going with a set of fics instead, so, what can you do. The set of fics is now called Your Darkest Voice, after the (hopefully) last fic in this sequence and also in deference to John Guare:
Nice Boy
Ginny Weasley is thinking about Harry Potter, and the fact that he is a nice boy. She is sitting in Divination class looking into a flame the way Professor Trelawney taught them to. She doesn't get visions, she doesn't see the future or the past. She just sees a mixture of yellow and white, a pure chemical mouth that eats air without moving, until someone walks past her and it flickers.
Ginny has never been invisible, though she has always wanted to be. She borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak three weeks ago, but she only had it in her hands for about twenty minutes before she gave it away. But while it was in her hands she was very tempted to put it on and never take it off again. She didn't even try it, not even for a few minutes, just to see what it felt like. The temptation was too great and she knows that she is not able to resist serious temptation. She did exactly what she what was supposed to do; she put it in a small box and left it on the table in the library, where Draco Malfoy came and claimed it.
She hadn't meant to tell Draco about the invisibility cloak, but she did anyway. He can be very persuasive, and Ginny doesn't take much persuading.
Ginny considers passing her hand through the flame, or just sticking her finger in it to let her flesh burn. But she doesn't like pain, and she doesn't want any scars. She wants to be a pure canvas, she wants to have flawless skin. Draco kisses her hands sometimes. She doesn't know why.
He kept the invisibility cloak for three weeks, and as far as Ginny knows no one even found out that he had had it. Ginny had heard no rumours, and she pays close attention to rumours. Every day that passed during those three weeks Ginny lived in fear that Harry would ask for the invisibility cloak back and she would have to admit that she didn't have it anymore. Who has it? Harry would ask. Who did you give it to? Ginny would have to lie.
Harry never even asked her what she wanted the thing for in the first place, or what she was doing with it, let alone ask if she was done with it. She resents this in a way; does he not care? Does he not wonder about what she's up to? Ginny realizes she does not merit real curiosity in most people's eyes and while this annoys her on occasion, mostly she is grateful. At least someone trusts her enough to leave her alone.
She didn't really have a choice. There are people she has to protect.
It was carelessness that started the whole thing, but what was done couldn't be undone. At least, not by a witch of middling talent like herself. That summer they took a train to Scotland for a family holiday; her parents sat in one cabin with the twins and she sat in another with Charlie, Ron, and Bill. Ron and Charlie fell asleep in the heat; Ron with a book of crosswords over his face and Charlie snoring with his cheek against the window. It was raining and too hot.
Ginny hates summer. She always has.
Bill was facing the window, his back pressed up against her, with one arm draped over her hip, and his hand up her skirt. Ginny rested her head against his shoulder and balanced a newspaper over his elbow, just in case Ron or Charlie woke up. This was their secret, no one else would understand. It had always been their secret and until that day, Ginny believed that no one else would ever know it.
Bill had been away so long and Ginny had missed him. Lately he had been working with the Ministry in secret and dangerous places, and Ginny lived in fear of finding out that he was dead, missing in action, or something worse. But instead of dying he came home, he joined the rest of the Weasleys on vacation. His fingers felt familiar and moved casually against her, encased in her cotton underwear, her only proof that he was not asleep beside her.
His fingers moved beautifully slowly, perhaps because they had hours on the train and Ron and Charlie were sound sleepers, or just because he knew that she liked it. His calloused index finger slid wetly over her clitoris in circles, dipped down and pressed inside her, and then shifted back up again. Over and over. Ginny shifted her hips slightly with the pattern of his fingers but otherwise did not move at all. It was amazing to her that such a small part of herself could take over her like this; touch me here, and I won't notice anything else in the world. Her eyes were half-shut, which was not smart.
She is not the smartest Weasley, after all.
She opened her eyes when Bill fingers pressed harder against her, and found herself looking straight into the face of Draco Malfoy.
What he was doing on the train Ginny never found out. It didn't occur to her to ask. Even later when they disembarked and retrieved their luggage Ginny didn't see his parents, or Draco himself for that matter. But just then Draco Malfoy was looking at her through the window of the compartment door and he could see everything. Her legs were slightly spread and she faced the door; away from her brothers. Her skirt was short enough and while she could not see Bill's hand herself she knew that Draco could. His expression was unreadable.
She froze. No, she didn't freeze, not exactly; to be more precise, she just halted in a series of motions, as if she were not looking into Draco's face; her hips still shifted slightly against Bill's fingers, which were working into an ever more rapid fervour. She did not move her legs, she did not slap Bill's hand away. She did not scream. Any quick movement might wake the others, and the dissemination of this information had to be carefully monitored. She didn't want Bill to know that someone else knew, because then everything would change, and Ginny didn't like change. She didn't blink until Bill pressed hard against her and she came, silently as usual.
Afterward she excused herself to go to the loo and found Draco in the corridor, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall. He didn't say anything, and Ginny just looked at him.
The terms were never explicitly stated, but Ginny understood them. She will do whatever he asks as long as he doesn't squeal. Sometimes he kisses her, Or takes off her shirt, puts his arms around her and undoes her bra, wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She doesn't know why he does this, exactly, as she is fairly certain that he does not like her, not like the way the girls at school talk about liking someone. She thinks he does it because he can and while Ginny realizes the situation is far from ideal she usually doesn't mind. He is gentle with her and keeps her secrets. He gets off on it, and that part is no secret.
What Ginny can't entirely admit to during the day is that she gets off on it too.
Sometimes he just talks to her. He sends her notes and asks her to meet him somewhere; a damp corridor in the dungeons, an unlocked classroom, by the cloakroom outside the Great Hall. She never thinks of not going, and she thinks that it is a mark of her Gryffindor bravery that she will not break her wordless agreement. He asks about things that make very little sense to her; the kinds of things Harry has in his trunk at school; her father's projects; Harry's grades; Hermione's best spells; Dean Thomas' family background. Once she found him sorting through her desk, but he pretended she wasn't there. She has no idea what he was looking for, what he found, or what use it was to him.
When she let slip about the invisibility cloak he wanted it. "Just for a couple of days," he said quickly, as if she were about to say no. After that he put one arm around her waist and lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed the palm of her hand, her fingers, and Ginny closed her eyes.
She never saw him use it.
During those three weeks she lived in fear that Harry would ask for it back, but also in anticipation that Draco would sneak into her room at night and make love to her. She isn't certain if she wants this or doesn't want it, but she knows that it is not her decision either way. During those three weeks she had woken up in the middle of almost every night certain she had heard something, and whispered, "Draco?" But he was never there. He returned the cloak to her after breakfast without saying anything.
Ginny was tempted again to become invisible herself and stay that way, but rather than wrestle with temptation she gave the cloak back to Harry between morning classes and thanked him. He smiled and tucked it into his robe. "Sure, no problem," he said. He smiled again.
Harry is a nice boy. She thinks about this and stares into the flame. A very nice boy.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This fic contains incest. Het incest, at that. I realize this is a problem for many people, including myself, so if you can't handle it, don't read this. Thanks. In case you're wondering, it's because of content that I'm locking this post.
A/N: Thanks to
epicyclical for talking to me about Ginny, and to nefeleo for being the alpha reader and for pointing out two blatant typos. Much love. *rubs noses*The details: This fic is a sequel to Under, which I posted a few days ago. (Big warning on that one too: NC-17 non-con and violence. I wonder what the hell is up with me lately, man.) I thought of making this a chaptered fic, but I seem to be going with a set of fics instead, so, what can you do. The set of fics is now called Your Darkest Voice, after the (hopefully) last fic in this sequence and also in deference to John Guare:
The imagination. That's our out. Our imagination teaches us our limits and then how to grow beyond those limits. The imagination says Listen to me. I am your darkest voice. I am your 4am voice. I am the voice that wakes you up and says this is what I'm afraid of. Do not listen to me at your peril.
Ginny Weasley is thinking about Harry Potter, and the fact that he is a nice boy. She is sitting in Divination class looking into a flame the way Professor Trelawney taught them to. She doesn't get visions, she doesn't see the future or the past. She just sees a mixture of yellow and white, a pure chemical mouth that eats air without moving, until someone walks past her and it flickers.
Ginny has never been invisible, though she has always wanted to be. She borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak three weeks ago, but she only had it in her hands for about twenty minutes before she gave it away. But while it was in her hands she was very tempted to put it on and never take it off again. She didn't even try it, not even for a few minutes, just to see what it felt like. The temptation was too great and she knows that she is not able to resist serious temptation. She did exactly what she what was supposed to do; she put it in a small box and left it on the table in the library, where Draco Malfoy came and claimed it.
She hadn't meant to tell Draco about the invisibility cloak, but she did anyway. He can be very persuasive, and Ginny doesn't take much persuading.
Ginny considers passing her hand through the flame, or just sticking her finger in it to let her flesh burn. But she doesn't like pain, and she doesn't want any scars. She wants to be a pure canvas, she wants to have flawless skin. Draco kisses her hands sometimes. She doesn't know why.
He kept the invisibility cloak for three weeks, and as far as Ginny knows no one even found out that he had had it. Ginny had heard no rumours, and she pays close attention to rumours. Every day that passed during those three weeks Ginny lived in fear that Harry would ask for the invisibility cloak back and she would have to admit that she didn't have it anymore. Who has it? Harry would ask. Who did you give it to? Ginny would have to lie.
Harry never even asked her what she wanted the thing for in the first place, or what she was doing with it, let alone ask if she was done with it. She resents this in a way; does he not care? Does he not wonder about what she's up to? Ginny realizes she does not merit real curiosity in most people's eyes and while this annoys her on occasion, mostly she is grateful. At least someone trusts her enough to leave her alone.
She didn't really have a choice. There are people she has to protect.
It was carelessness that started the whole thing, but what was done couldn't be undone. At least, not by a witch of middling talent like herself. That summer they took a train to Scotland for a family holiday; her parents sat in one cabin with the twins and she sat in another with Charlie, Ron, and Bill. Ron and Charlie fell asleep in the heat; Ron with a book of crosswords over his face and Charlie snoring with his cheek against the window. It was raining and too hot.
Ginny hates summer. She always has.
Bill was facing the window, his back pressed up against her, with one arm draped over her hip, and his hand up her skirt. Ginny rested her head against his shoulder and balanced a newspaper over his elbow, just in case Ron or Charlie woke up. This was their secret, no one else would understand. It had always been their secret and until that day, Ginny believed that no one else would ever know it.
Bill had been away so long and Ginny had missed him. Lately he had been working with the Ministry in secret and dangerous places, and Ginny lived in fear of finding out that he was dead, missing in action, or something worse. But instead of dying he came home, he joined the rest of the Weasleys on vacation. His fingers felt familiar and moved casually against her, encased in her cotton underwear, her only proof that he was not asleep beside her.
His fingers moved beautifully slowly, perhaps because they had hours on the train and Ron and Charlie were sound sleepers, or just because he knew that she liked it. His calloused index finger slid wetly over her clitoris in circles, dipped down and pressed inside her, and then shifted back up again. Over and over. Ginny shifted her hips slightly with the pattern of his fingers but otherwise did not move at all. It was amazing to her that such a small part of herself could take over her like this; touch me here, and I won't notice anything else in the world. Her eyes were half-shut, which was not smart.
She is not the smartest Weasley, after all.
She opened her eyes when Bill fingers pressed harder against her, and found herself looking straight into the face of Draco Malfoy.
What he was doing on the train Ginny never found out. It didn't occur to her to ask. Even later when they disembarked and retrieved their luggage Ginny didn't see his parents, or Draco himself for that matter. But just then Draco Malfoy was looking at her through the window of the compartment door and he could see everything. Her legs were slightly spread and she faced the door; away from her brothers. Her skirt was short enough and while she could not see Bill's hand herself she knew that Draco could. His expression was unreadable.
She froze. No, she didn't freeze, not exactly; to be more precise, she just halted in a series of motions, as if she were not looking into Draco's face; her hips still shifted slightly against Bill's fingers, which were working into an ever more rapid fervour. She did not move her legs, she did not slap Bill's hand away. She did not scream. Any quick movement might wake the others, and the dissemination of this information had to be carefully monitored. She didn't want Bill to know that someone else knew, because then everything would change, and Ginny didn't like change. She didn't blink until Bill pressed hard against her and she came, silently as usual.
Afterward she excused herself to go to the loo and found Draco in the corridor, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall. He didn't say anything, and Ginny just looked at him.
The terms were never explicitly stated, but Ginny understood them. She will do whatever he asks as long as he doesn't squeal. Sometimes he kisses her, Or takes off her shirt, puts his arms around her and undoes her bra, wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She doesn't know why he does this, exactly, as she is fairly certain that he does not like her, not like the way the girls at school talk about liking someone. She thinks he does it because he can and while Ginny realizes the situation is far from ideal she usually doesn't mind. He is gentle with her and keeps her secrets. He gets off on it, and that part is no secret.
What Ginny can't entirely admit to during the day is that she gets off on it too.
Sometimes he just talks to her. He sends her notes and asks her to meet him somewhere; a damp corridor in the dungeons, an unlocked classroom, by the cloakroom outside the Great Hall. She never thinks of not going, and she thinks that it is a mark of her Gryffindor bravery that she will not break her wordless agreement. He asks about things that make very little sense to her; the kinds of things Harry has in his trunk at school; her father's projects; Harry's grades; Hermione's best spells; Dean Thomas' family background. Once she found him sorting through her desk, but he pretended she wasn't there. She has no idea what he was looking for, what he found, or what use it was to him.
When she let slip about the invisibility cloak he wanted it. "Just for a couple of days," he said quickly, as if she were about to say no. After that he put one arm around her waist and lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed the palm of her hand, her fingers, and Ginny closed her eyes.
She never saw him use it.
During those three weeks she lived in fear that Harry would ask for it back, but also in anticipation that Draco would sneak into her room at night and make love to her. She isn't certain if she wants this or doesn't want it, but she knows that it is not her decision either way. During those three weeks she had woken up in the middle of almost every night certain she had heard something, and whispered, "Draco?" But he was never there. He returned the cloak to her after breakfast without saying anything.
Ginny was tempted again to become invisible herself and stay that way, but rather than wrestle with temptation she gave the cloak back to Harry between morning classes and thanked him. He smiled and tucked it into his robe. "Sure, no problem," he said. He smiled again.
Harry is a nice boy. She thinks about this and stares into the flame. A very nice boy.
