Moonlighting
Oct. 12th, 2004 12:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sareaTITLE: Moonlighting
AUTHOR: Sarea Okelani
Y!GROUP: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/magical_mayhem/
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORIES: Drama/Angst, Romance
SPOILERS: Through Order of the Phoenix
KEYWORDS: Ginny/Draco, Ginny/Harry
DISTRIBUTION: Please do not archive – the full text of this story will be archived by me at my site or elsewhere at my sole discretion (mostly for version control issues). If you'd like to link to this story from your Web site, I'd be honored – but drop me a line first, please.
DISCLAIMER: The characters found in this story are property of the inimitable JK Rowling and her publishers.
FEEDBACK: Please. I love hearing from you.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for SunshineFanFics' birthday fic drive. Happy birthday! Though this will likely be a popular premise amongst other entrants, I had to do it. I've had this idea in my head for ages (the final scene, specifically), and when I saw it was one of the proffered 'situations' I got off my rear end and wrote it. Many thanks to Jade and Hannah for their lovely beta.
DATE POSTED: Oct. 12, 2004
SUMMARY: Things are rarely what they appear.
"Moonlighting"
by Sarea Okelani
~.~
If there was something he was used to by now, it was losing things to Harry Potter.
From the moment they'd met--possibly even before--they'd been adversaries. Family, race, class, House, sports--all these and more served as bones of contention between them. He didn't always lose, and Potter didn't always win, but it happened enough that it certainly felt that way.
It seemed that no matter what the issue, they stood on opposite sides. They had different values, different friends, different talents, different ambitions--and that was fine with Draco.
Most of the skirmishes Potter won didn't matter much. Of course it was galling to lose to a four-eyed, Muggle-loving git under any circumstance, but it was clear Potter had the raw end of the deal. He wasn't rich, he wasn't well groomed, he wasn't particularly intelligent, and his bloodline was tainted. He was an orphan, a social misfit, and oh yes, he had a powerful dark wizard plotting his death at every turn.
Potter didn't have anything to envy.
With perhaps one exception.
~.~
Ginny Weasley's slippers were silent as she made her way down the deserted hall. Harry's note had asked her to meet him at 11 o'clock near the Hufflepuff dormitories--when she reached the right doorknob, he'd said, it would glow.
She wasn't sure why all the subterfuge was necessary. They could certainly find a secluded spot closer to Gryffindor Tower. Of course, it would be much more mortifying to be discovered, for instance, by Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend and Harry's dorm mate, than by Hannah Abbott, whom they both only knew vaguely.
As Ginny turned down the proper corridor, she hoped she'd remembered his instructions correctly. She wasn't familiar with this part of the castle, and it would be rather embarrassing to wander around in her night clothes until someone found her in the morning.
Torches flickered as she passed. Ginny was grateful for the light, little though it was, as she hadn't wanted to risk using her wand.
Halfway down the corridor, Ginny saw a small glowing object that grew brighter as she approached. As she drew up to it, she saw that it was a doorknob, and the glow faded as she put her hand on it and twisted.
She closed the door behind her with alacrity. It wasn't too late for a diligent Prefect on duty to still be patrolling.
"Harry?" she whispered.
The room would have been completely dark if not for the windows that allowed the brightness of the moon to seep in, bathing the room with an unearthly blue glow. Harry stood in the darkest corner of the room, and Ginny saw him only when he started forward.
He stopped in front of her, looking awkward. This wasn't too unusual; they hadn't been dating long and Harry often seemed unsure of what liberties he was allowed. After another moment of hesitation he leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. It tingled where his lips touched her skin, and she could feel the rasp of his stubble. As he straightened again she caught an unfamiliar, spicy scent--cologne. Harry never wore cologne. It made her even more intrigued, but he was behaving so formally that she decided to keep her curiosity to herself for now.
Harry took one of her hands in his and drew her over to a squashy sofa, in front of which sat a long coffee table. It was loaded with an assortment of cheeses, breads, fruit, and chocolate.
"Wow," she murmured.
Harry gestured toward the feast, and since dinner had been hours ago, Ginny felt free to indulge. The food was delicious, the selection of cheeses surprisingly varied. As she helped herself, Harry opened a bottle of butterbeer, pouring the light amber liquid into a champagne flute before handing it to her. When they were both holding glasses he clinked them lightly together.
"To us," he said, and even his voice seemed different, huskier than normal. It was the atmosphere, she decided, and how uncharacteristically romantic he was being. When she and Harry first began dating, Hermione warned her not to expect too much from him. Harry had a heart bigger than most, but romance was not his style. While she had taken Hermione's words to heart--and in fact had already known this about him--Ginny had to admit that she liked having a bit of romance in her life.
Ginny expected Harry to kiss her after they'd both taken sips of butterbeer and set down their glasses, but to her surprise, he drew away from her and sat at the other end of the sofa. "How was your day?" he asked.
So he wanted to talk, Ginny noted with a slight sense of disappointment. Then again, he was probably trying to be gallant, letting her know he cared about her as a person. Cheering at the thought, she gave him the highlights of her day, leaving out the parts he'd been privy to. She tried to make her stories entertaining, and was rewarded by a grin or sometimes even a laugh, which warmed her.
When she asked him the same question he was not nearly as detailed in his reply, and often he would start to say something, then would stop and be silent. It bothered her that there were still some things he didn't feel comfortable sharing with her, but she hoped this would change in time.
During a lull, Ginny used the opportunity to reach for a slice of pear...and scoot closer to him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stiffen, and wondered at it. Why was he acting so jumpy? She ate the pear, licking her lips when she was done. Ginny was gratified to see that Harry was riveted to her every movement. "Sweet," she commented, and she didn't sound like herself, either.
Harry swallowed but didn't say anything. His hands seemed glued to his thighs and his breathing had quickened.
Emboldened by the look on his face, Ginny grabbed another slice of pear and leaned in until she was practically on his lap. He didn't push her away, but a flicker of alarm crossed his face, as if he wasn't sure what she was going to do, but whatever it was, he was helpless to prevent it. This made Ginny feel powerful, as though she were controlling the situation, and whatever did or didn't happen would be up to her. She liked the feeling; it was also why she liked having the Quaffle in her hands.
"Try it," she urged, and slipped the fruit between his lips. At first she thought he wasn't going to respond, and she had a moment of doubt, but then the pear disappeared into his mouth, and she was entranced by the sight. "What about a raspberry?" she asked, and he nodded. She plucked one of the plump berries from the tray and fed him again. "Good?"
"Sweet," he whispered, lips stained pink.
"I want to taste," she said, but instead of reaching for another berry she placed her mouth over his and swept her tongue inside. She heard him moan, his arms going round her, and she gasped at the tightness of his embrace. The kiss went on and on, and Ginny thought dizzily that it had never been so sweet. Perhaps it was the moonlight again, or the forbidden quality of it all; they weren't supposed to be here; it was after hours and they were meant to be in their separate dormitories. Instead they tasted one another over and over again, and Ginny never wanted it to end.
"Stop," Harry gasped, and turned his head away from her.
Ginny wouldn't let him retreat. She could feel how much he wanted her, could feel the hardness of him pressing against her robes. "I don't want to stop," she said, and sucked on his earlobe before tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. As she kissed down his neck, she realized that his delicious scent wasn't from cologne after all, but was simply the soap he had used. She grinned as Harry whimpered. His hands, which had undoubtedly gone to her shoulders to push her away, loosened a bit, and Ginny decided to press her advantage by beginning to unfasten her robes.
Harry stared. "What are you doing?" he croaked.
"What does it look like I'm doing, silly?" she replied, smiling brightly and tossing her long hair, knowing this move would please him, as it pleased most boys. She didn't stop with just the robes. To her own surprise, her hands went to the thin top she'd worn under it and lifted, baring herself to him. She hadn't planned on doing this; this level of intimacy was new for them, but she also knew she didn't want to stop and it was the only thing she could think of to distract him.
From the expression on his face, it was working. "Oh my God," he said hoarsely, looking as if all his future Christmas presents had been combined to give him this one spectacular gift.
Ginny shifted slightly, deliberately, knowing the movement would make her generous breasts jiggle. "Touch me, Harry."
For a moment his eyes shadowed, and it seemed that he was going to be able to resist, after all. Ginny hurriedly grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts, feeling her nipples harden at his touch. She moaned, seeing his hesitation evaporate. He began to knead the soft flesh, and when she didn't object he got bolder, and used his thumb and index finger to lightly pull at the hardened pebbles.
"Oh..." Ginny sighed, and ground her hips against him. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn't care. She wanted whatever was going to happen to happen.
Keeping their gazes locked, Harry leaned forward and the hot cavern of his mouth closed over her turgid flesh. She shrieked, hoping that he had soundproofed the room. He sucked at her for a long time, lavishing attention on each peak.
Ginny didn't know quite how it had happened; she did recall some shifting and fumbling, but it rather seemed that one moment they had most of their clothes on and the next they were both completely naked. She wasn't about to question it, however, not when this fever of desire was coursing through her veins and his long finger was sliding into her body. It ached some, but all she could think was that she couldn't wait to feel him--the real him--inside her. "Please..." she whispered.
He withdrew his hand and she held her breath, thinking this was the moment he would position himself against her and fill her...but instead he stared down at her miserably. "We can't do this," he said. "It's not right. I shouldn't have let it get this far."
"It got this far because I let it. Please...let me feel you inside me..." She grabbed his hand again and pressed it against her. "You can feel how much I want you, can't you? Don't make me beg."
Something changed in his face, something that transformed it and made him look dangerous. Ginny's breath caught in her throat. "Maybe I want you to beg," he said softly.
At those words Ginny felt another shameful rush of moisture. He massaged her gently while she moaned and tried to impale herself on his fingers.
"Ah ah, Ginny," he scolded, sliding a rough finger through her folds. She was so wet she could hear him doing it, and it was embarrassing but she didn't want him to stop. "Beg me." His eyes had darkened to the point that she could no longer make out their cool green color.
"Please..." The word trembled on her lips.
"Not good enough. Who knows when you'll be this agreeable again? I want you to say, 'Please fuck me with your long, hard cock.' Can you do that, Ginny?"
"I can't say that," she said, feeling heat in her neck and face just from hearing him say it.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't do it, then." And he took his hands from her.
Ginny felt the loss in every cell in her being. Just do what he says! her mind shrieked. "Please fuck me with your long, hard cock," she said in a barely audible tone, then added for good measure, "Harry."
He scowled. "Did I say you could improvise?"
"I'm sorry," Ginny moaned, wondering where this controlling Harry had come from. Not that she was complaining. Where was the part of her that had liked being in control? There was plenty of physical evidence indicating that perhaps she enjoyed being submissive even more. She just so rarely got the opportunity with Harry.
"I hate to be so lenient, but when you ask so nicely..." He sighed, and to her delight, moved over her and settled between her legs. She felt him at her entrance, and for a moment she doubted the sanity of doing this; he felt huge, but then he muttered, "This won't work at all," which panicked her into wrapping her legs around him. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, we're still going to fuck. But this sofa's too narrow and I need you to spread your legs a bit more..."
Ginny bit her lip, then shyly raised one leg and draped her foot over the back of the couch, while her other foot found purchase on the floor. She felt ridiculously proud when Harry aimed a grin at her that told her he was impressed.
Positioning himself again, he eased into her, closing his eyes. "Oh, yeah," he breathed. "So fucking tight."
It felt really good--at first. But the more he pushed, the more uncomfortable it was, as if something inside her was about to give way. Her distressed little whimpers finally got through to him, and he stopped, looking down at her with glazed eyes. They cleared when he saw her tears. "What's the matter?" he asked. Realization dawned. "You've never done this before?"
Ginny shook her head.
"Shit," he said. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," she answered, a bit put out. Was it so difficult to believe she was still a virgin?
Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked calmly.
"No," she said softly, feeling him let out a sigh of relief. "But do this part fast."
He nodded. "Hold on to me." Ginny wrapped her arms around him and concentrated on keeping herself relaxed.
Harry retreated until he nearly disengaged, then thrust forward quickly, breaking through the seal of her virginity. Ginny cried out when it happened; it hurt despite everything they'd done to make it easier for her. However, the momentary pain was well worth the feeling of having him fully inside her. He gave her some time to adjust, then, groaning an apology, began to thrust.
Despite everything it was such a lovely, intimate sensation, and before long Ginny was raising her hips to meet his, reveling in the sound their bodies made as they mated. His thrusts came faster and faster, harder and harder, until she was being lifted right off the sofa like a doll beneath him. She felt him swelling even further inside her, and knew he was going to climax soon.
"You're not on a birth control potion, are you?" he rasped in her ear. Ginny shook her head. "Okay. It's okay." He pulled out, and she felt the hotness of his release on her stomach as he quivered and jerked above her.
Ginny felt a sense of loss as she watched him, wishing he'd experienced his orgasm within her, and vowed to start taking a birth control potion immediately. As much as the experience had hurt at times, she felt strangely empty now without him there.
When he recovered, he kissed her gently, slowly, and Ginny felt her body stirring again. He grinned and said against her mouth, "Your turn." Before she knew what he was about, his dark head was between her legs and he was sucking her clit into his mouth, burying his fingers inside her. That was all it took for stars to explode behind her eyes.
~.~
After that, they met nearly every night.
Ginny started taking a contraceptive and learned to climax when he was inside her. Harry was diligent and inventive in his lovemaking, making her wonder how he had acquired his knowledge and skills; she was his first real girlfriend, as far as she knew.
Strange thing was, he never spoke of their activities in the light of day. If she got overly frisky with him, he would blush and rebuff her. It seemed that under the cover of darkness and moonlight, he could say and do all manner of wicked things to her, but outside of those confines he was unwilling to do anything more adventurous than snog--and those sessions were nowhere near as intense or satisfying as what they'd share later that night.
It wasn't long before she began to prefer her nighttime Harry, who not only made love to her but was attentive and tender in other ways. He made her feel cherished.
It wasn't just his behavior. At night he even smelled different.
It mystified her.
~.~
He ought to stop.
He shouldn't be taking advantage of her. He hated hearing Potter's name on her lips when it was him was inside her, him making her feel good.
But he accepted it as his punishment for his deception.
If she ever found out...
But she would never find out, not from him. He was very careful. What he had working for him was her own denial. She didn't want to admit the truth, and because of that, she would never see it. It was risky, but it worked--for nearly a month now.
He ought to stop. But he couldn't.
~.~
It should have been an unremarkable incident.
It began with Malfoy saying something nasty. He'd made it a point in the past to harass Ron and Hermione, and now that they were dating, he made it even more of a point. It used to be that he tormented Harry, too, but he'd stopped doing that for some reason. Instead, he would turn away, as if he couldn't bear to look at the other boy.
That day, she saw them outside the Great Hall before lunch--Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy. His back was to her, but she could see that he was leaning indolently against a wall while Hermione's face was pinched and white and Ron looked like a steaming lobster. Ginny approached, unafraid for some reason, and she was right behind him when Ron said something biting and Hermione pulled him away.
Malfoy straightened, undoubtedly preparing to go inside for his meal, but something made Ginny say, "They're really not so bad once you get to know them."
He whirled at the sound of her voice, looking panicked a second before his features returned to their normal state of scowling disdain. "Why the hell would I want to do that? Get out of my way, Weasley." He pushed past her, making her stumble. It wasn't the push that did it--he hadn't used much force. Neither was it his tone nor his words that had affected her.
It was the scent of his soap.
~.~
She was going to confront him, Ginny decided. Confront him and turn him in.
They met that night, same as usual. Immediately she made note of the differences in this Harry--unmistakable differences that only someone in denial would ignore.
Despite her convictions, when he opened his arms she stepped into them readily. And when he removed her shirt and then her bra, her own nimble fingers undid the fastening on his trousers.
She made sure not to say Harry's name.
When it was over, she felt slightly ashamed. She'd known it wasn't Harry, but she'd had sex with him anyway. Technically, she was cheating. She told herself she wouldn't do it again.
But she did.
She had many opportunities in the coming days to put an end to their assignations. Instead she avoided the real Harry and put off making any decisions.
Mulling things over one day, she realized the right thing to do would be to confess everything to Harry. Maybe then her guilt would be assuaged.
~.~
He slipped into the room, telling himself that tonight was going to be the last time. He always told himself that. Every time he ran low on Polyjuice, he told himself when it was gone, that would be it, no more pretense. And then he brewed more. Whenever he was low on Potter's hair, he told himself that he couldn't possibly deign to get more, then found himself ransacking Potter's locker for his brush. It seemed there was no level he would not stoop to for these nights in Ginny Weasley's arms.
Usually he arrived first, but tonight someone was already waiting for him.
"Fuck," he muttered. He thought about disappearing; Hogwarts had dozens of hidden nooks and crannies and he was very adept at evasion, but part of him wanted this confrontation.
"Don't you dare leave," Potter said furiously.
"You're going to stop me?"
"You might as well take it like a man," Potter blustered.
His brow furrowed. That sounded a bit dramatic, even for Potter. "Fine, let's have it out," he said easily.
"Who are you? What do you do in here with Ginny?"
"I suspect you already know, or you wouldn't be here," he replied in a bored tone. "She told you, didn't she?"
Potter nodded jerkily. "But I don't know who you are. I have my suspicions, however."
"Do you?"
"There are only a few people I can name so low they'd do something like this."
He blanched, but hoped he'd hidden it successfully. "Make whatever accusations you like. You can't prove anything. I'll be gone before the Polyjuice wears off."
"Just tell me why. Was it revenge? Because she's my girlfriend?"
He laughed shortly. "Not everything is about you, Potter. I can assure you that this was not about you. In fact, I wish you had nothing whatsoever to do with it." He knew he sounded bitter, but it couldn't be helped.
"But...so, what? This was about her?"
"Yes, dammit, it was about her!" he exploded. "She's wonderful and beautiful and kind and you ignored her for years! You've got everything and what do you do with it? Nothing. You piss it away. You don't deserve her."
"And you do?" Potter asked softly.
"No." He turned away sharply. "I don't deserve her, either."
"Why don't you let her decide?"
He jerked around again at the decidedly feminine voice, startled to find Ginny there. "Where did Potter go?" he asked stupidly, although the answer was right in front of his face, wearing clothes that were three sizes too big for her.
She shook her head. "It's just me--and it's just you, Draco." She gestured toward the sofa, where they had found bliss countless times. "It is you, isn't it?"
After all he'd done, he couldn't refuse. He sat.
"I needed to know for sure," she explained softly.
He didn't say anything.
"What you did was..."
Unconscionable, he supplied. Disgusting. Depraved.
"...wrong," she finished delicately. "But I'm not blameless, either. I knew you weren't really Harry. Too many things didn't add up. But I continued to meet you--"
His head jerked up. "For how long?"
Ginny flushed guiltily. "Long enough."
"Why?"
She was silent for so long he wasn't sure she would answer. Then she said, "I don't know. I liked being with you." She looked as though she were waiting for him to say something cutting.
He noticed she used the past tense. "I love being with you," he said, and it pained him to be so honest.
"Well, of course you do," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I mean, I never said no to you--"
"Not because of that," he interrupted. "So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," she answered, looking away. "This is a very odd situation."
"Are you going to go to Dumbledore?"
"It would serve you right if I did," she said, but there was no rancor in her tone. "I'm not going to, though."
"Why not?" He knew he ought to let the subject drop, but he was masochistic. "Do you want to be with me?" he asked boldly.
She looked flustered. "Do you want to be with me?" she countered.
"Yes."
"Oh." She clearly hadn't expected an answer--or at least, not that one. "I need time to think."
"Take all the time you need."
~.~
Ginny waited nervously at the crest of the hill. She could see the castle in the distance.
She asked herself, for the umpteenth time, if she was mad to be doing this. For two weeks, she had avoided Draco Malfoy. It wasn't difficult, since normally their paths rarely crossed. Much harder had been avoiding Harry, who was starting to lose patience with her, she knew. But she couldn't speak to him when her emotions were in such turmoil. How had her life gotten so complicated?
It was bad enough that she had slept with someone else. Was she going to compound on that crime by giving up a good, decent boy like Harry?
She knew the answer was yes.
"Ginny?"
She turned and there he was, sunlight glinting off his platinum head.
"Thank you for meeting me," she said breathlessly, unable to look away as he approached.
When he reached her he touched the bridge of his nose, then bent and kissed her without any preliminaries.
Ginny melted into his touch, liking his forceful manner, then realized something was wrong. His touch was too hard, too needy, too...angry? She pushed him away. "You're not Draco," she said flatly.
"Damn right I'm not," said the look-alike, slumping suddenly and looking at her with a betrayed expression on his face. "I knew it. You've been acting funny for weeks. I saw you write that note," he continued accusingly, "and I tried to tell myself it was innocent--though Merlin knows what innocent reason you'd have for meeting him."
Ginny was horrified. "Harry?"
"Yes, remember me? Your sodding boyfriend?" She'd never seen him so incensed. She wondered if her betrayal had wounded his pride or his feelings more.
"Well, this is an interesting predicament, isn't it?" drawled a new voice. It was familiar in a way that shouldn't have been familiar at all.
Ginny and Harry whirled to discern the identity of the new participant in their personal melodrama. "This isn't your fucking busine--" Harry started to growl, then stopped in astonishment when he saw that the person he was reprimanding was...himself.
"I think it is my business," said the not-Harry, sauntering forward in a manner that was all too familiar to Ginny.
"Malfoy," snarled Harry.
"Potter," acknowledged Draco, looking exactly like Harry and nothing like him at the same time. The sleeves of his jumper were folded over several times, baring his arms, his tie was only loosely knotted, his dark hair wasn't unkempt, and he wasn't wearing glasses. He looked as much like Draco Malfoy as Harry Potter could possibly look.
Ginny wanted to ask Draco what he was doing. She was angry he had meant to trick her again. But she didn't dare question him about it in front of Harry, who would use her anger to fuel his own. The fact that she was put out with Draco was their private business. She had to be the calm, neutral one in this situation, if she wanted to keep everyone's blood flowing without disruption in their proper veins. Such as it was.
"Harry, I can--"
"What, explain? Go ahead." Harry crossed his arms and pierced her with a glance in a surprisingly Malfoy-like way. Maybe it was the gray eyes. "On second thought, don't bother. I don't even want to know what kind of twisted little games you're playing with him." He turned on his heel and stomped down the hill. Ginny looked after him helplessly.
"Good riddance," said Draco.
"You!" Ginny whirled on him. "What do you mean by meeting me here looking like that? Aren't you sick of this charade yet? Or are you only interested in being Harry?"
He grabbed her arms, fingers hard and biting. "That is the last thing I'm interested in," he said angrily. "Like you, I had to know for sure. And if you'd leapt into his arms and told him you were glad to see him, I--" He stopped and let go of her.
Ginny wrapped her arms around herself, unwillingly pleased by his passion. "I asked you here because..." She swallowed. "If you want to...we could try this."
"I want to," Draco said quickly.
"Okay," Ginny said, not knowing what else to say.
"And you'll break things off with Potter."
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Ginny said.
"Just in case he's harboring any misconceptions. I don't share."
"He shared with you," she reminded him saucily.
"I don't share," he repeated.
"I still don't know what it's like to kiss you," Ginny remarked wistfully, brushing some of his dark hair out of his eyes.
"The potion will wear off in a few minutes," he said. "I want you to stay with me when it happens."
"I want that, too," said Ginny.
Feeling the change beginning to take place, Draco feared that when she saw the real boy standing before her, without the cover of darkness and moonlight, she would change her mind. But she only took his hand--still shaking a bit from the transformation--and smiled the shy little smile that had first made him notice her.
"Hello," she said, and kissed him.
= end =
AUTHOR: Sarea Okelani
Y!GROUP: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/magical_mayhem/
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORIES: Drama/Angst, Romance
SPOILERS: Through Order of the Phoenix
KEYWORDS: Ginny/Draco, Ginny/Harry
DISTRIBUTION: Please do not archive – the full text of this story will be archived by me at my site or elsewhere at my sole discretion (mostly for version control issues). If you'd like to link to this story from your Web site, I'd be honored – but drop me a line first, please.
DISCLAIMER: The characters found in this story are property of the inimitable JK Rowling and her publishers.
FEEDBACK: Please. I love hearing from you.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for SunshineFanFics' birthday fic drive. Happy birthday! Though this will likely be a popular premise amongst other entrants, I had to do it. I've had this idea in my head for ages (the final scene, specifically), and when I saw it was one of the proffered 'situations' I got off my rear end and wrote it. Many thanks to Jade and Hannah for their lovely beta.
DATE POSTED: Oct. 12, 2004
SUMMARY: Things are rarely what they appear.
"Moonlighting"
by Sarea Okelani
If there was something he was used to by now, it was losing things to Harry Potter.
From the moment they'd met--possibly even before--they'd been adversaries. Family, race, class, House, sports--all these and more served as bones of contention between them. He didn't always lose, and Potter didn't always win, but it happened enough that it certainly felt that way.
It seemed that no matter what the issue, they stood on opposite sides. They had different values, different friends, different talents, different ambitions--and that was fine with Draco.
Most of the skirmishes Potter won didn't matter much. Of course it was galling to lose to a four-eyed, Muggle-loving git under any circumstance, but it was clear Potter had the raw end of the deal. He wasn't rich, he wasn't well groomed, he wasn't particularly intelligent, and his bloodline was tainted. He was an orphan, a social misfit, and oh yes, he had a powerful dark wizard plotting his death at every turn.
Potter didn't have anything to envy.
With perhaps one exception.
Ginny Weasley's slippers were silent as she made her way down the deserted hall. Harry's note had asked her to meet him at 11 o'clock near the Hufflepuff dormitories--when she reached the right doorknob, he'd said, it would glow.
She wasn't sure why all the subterfuge was necessary. They could certainly find a secluded spot closer to Gryffindor Tower. Of course, it would be much more mortifying to be discovered, for instance, by Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend and Harry's dorm mate, than by Hannah Abbott, whom they both only knew vaguely.
As Ginny turned down the proper corridor, she hoped she'd remembered his instructions correctly. She wasn't familiar with this part of the castle, and it would be rather embarrassing to wander around in her night clothes until someone found her in the morning.
Torches flickered as she passed. Ginny was grateful for the light, little though it was, as she hadn't wanted to risk using her wand.
Halfway down the corridor, Ginny saw a small glowing object that grew brighter as she approached. As she drew up to it, she saw that it was a doorknob, and the glow faded as she put her hand on it and twisted.
She closed the door behind her with alacrity. It wasn't too late for a diligent Prefect on duty to still be patrolling.
"Harry?" she whispered.
The room would have been completely dark if not for the windows that allowed the brightness of the moon to seep in, bathing the room with an unearthly blue glow. Harry stood in the darkest corner of the room, and Ginny saw him only when he started forward.
He stopped in front of her, looking awkward. This wasn't too unusual; they hadn't been dating long and Harry often seemed unsure of what liberties he was allowed. After another moment of hesitation he leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. It tingled where his lips touched her skin, and she could feel the rasp of his stubble. As he straightened again she caught an unfamiliar, spicy scent--cologne. Harry never wore cologne. It made her even more intrigued, but he was behaving so formally that she decided to keep her curiosity to herself for now.
Harry took one of her hands in his and drew her over to a squashy sofa, in front of which sat a long coffee table. It was loaded with an assortment of cheeses, breads, fruit, and chocolate.
"Wow," she murmured.
Harry gestured toward the feast, and since dinner had been hours ago, Ginny felt free to indulge. The food was delicious, the selection of cheeses surprisingly varied. As she helped herself, Harry opened a bottle of butterbeer, pouring the light amber liquid into a champagne flute before handing it to her. When they were both holding glasses he clinked them lightly together.
"To us," he said, and even his voice seemed different, huskier than normal. It was the atmosphere, she decided, and how uncharacteristically romantic he was being. When she and Harry first began dating, Hermione warned her not to expect too much from him. Harry had a heart bigger than most, but romance was not his style. While she had taken Hermione's words to heart--and in fact had already known this about him--Ginny had to admit that she liked having a bit of romance in her life.
Ginny expected Harry to kiss her after they'd both taken sips of butterbeer and set down their glasses, but to her surprise, he drew away from her and sat at the other end of the sofa. "How was your day?" he asked.
So he wanted to talk, Ginny noted with a slight sense of disappointment. Then again, he was probably trying to be gallant, letting her know he cared about her as a person. Cheering at the thought, she gave him the highlights of her day, leaving out the parts he'd been privy to. She tried to make her stories entertaining, and was rewarded by a grin or sometimes even a laugh, which warmed her.
When she asked him the same question he was not nearly as detailed in his reply, and often he would start to say something, then would stop and be silent. It bothered her that there were still some things he didn't feel comfortable sharing with her, but she hoped this would change in time.
During a lull, Ginny used the opportunity to reach for a slice of pear...and scoot closer to him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stiffen, and wondered at it. Why was he acting so jumpy? She ate the pear, licking her lips when she was done. Ginny was gratified to see that Harry was riveted to her every movement. "Sweet," she commented, and she didn't sound like herself, either.
Harry swallowed but didn't say anything. His hands seemed glued to his thighs and his breathing had quickened.
Emboldened by the look on his face, Ginny grabbed another slice of pear and leaned in until she was practically on his lap. He didn't push her away, but a flicker of alarm crossed his face, as if he wasn't sure what she was going to do, but whatever it was, he was helpless to prevent it. This made Ginny feel powerful, as though she were controlling the situation, and whatever did or didn't happen would be up to her. She liked the feeling; it was also why she liked having the Quaffle in her hands.
"Try it," she urged, and slipped the fruit between his lips. At first she thought he wasn't going to respond, and she had a moment of doubt, but then the pear disappeared into his mouth, and she was entranced by the sight. "What about a raspberry?" she asked, and he nodded. She plucked one of the plump berries from the tray and fed him again. "Good?"
"Sweet," he whispered, lips stained pink.
"I want to taste," she said, but instead of reaching for another berry she placed her mouth over his and swept her tongue inside. She heard him moan, his arms going round her, and she gasped at the tightness of his embrace. The kiss went on and on, and Ginny thought dizzily that it had never been so sweet. Perhaps it was the moonlight again, or the forbidden quality of it all; they weren't supposed to be here; it was after hours and they were meant to be in their separate dormitories. Instead they tasted one another over and over again, and Ginny never wanted it to end.
"Stop," Harry gasped, and turned his head away from her.
Ginny wouldn't let him retreat. She could feel how much he wanted her, could feel the hardness of him pressing against her robes. "I don't want to stop," she said, and sucked on his earlobe before tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. As she kissed down his neck, she realized that his delicious scent wasn't from cologne after all, but was simply the soap he had used. She grinned as Harry whimpered. His hands, which had undoubtedly gone to her shoulders to push her away, loosened a bit, and Ginny decided to press her advantage by beginning to unfasten her robes.
Harry stared. "What are you doing?" he croaked.
"What does it look like I'm doing, silly?" she replied, smiling brightly and tossing her long hair, knowing this move would please him, as it pleased most boys. She didn't stop with just the robes. To her own surprise, her hands went to the thin top she'd worn under it and lifted, baring herself to him. She hadn't planned on doing this; this level of intimacy was new for them, but she also knew she didn't want to stop and it was the only thing she could think of to distract him.
From the expression on his face, it was working. "Oh my God," he said hoarsely, looking as if all his future Christmas presents had been combined to give him this one spectacular gift.
Ginny shifted slightly, deliberately, knowing the movement would make her generous breasts jiggle. "Touch me, Harry."
For a moment his eyes shadowed, and it seemed that he was going to be able to resist, after all. Ginny hurriedly grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts, feeling her nipples harden at his touch. She moaned, seeing his hesitation evaporate. He began to knead the soft flesh, and when she didn't object he got bolder, and used his thumb and index finger to lightly pull at the hardened pebbles.
"Oh..." Ginny sighed, and ground her hips against him. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn't care. She wanted whatever was going to happen to happen.
Keeping their gazes locked, Harry leaned forward and the hot cavern of his mouth closed over her turgid flesh. She shrieked, hoping that he had soundproofed the room. He sucked at her for a long time, lavishing attention on each peak.
Ginny didn't know quite how it had happened; she did recall some shifting and fumbling, but it rather seemed that one moment they had most of their clothes on and the next they were both completely naked. She wasn't about to question it, however, not when this fever of desire was coursing through her veins and his long finger was sliding into her body. It ached some, but all she could think was that she couldn't wait to feel him--the real him--inside her. "Please..." she whispered.
He withdrew his hand and she held her breath, thinking this was the moment he would position himself against her and fill her...but instead he stared down at her miserably. "We can't do this," he said. "It's not right. I shouldn't have let it get this far."
"It got this far because I let it. Please...let me feel you inside me..." She grabbed his hand again and pressed it against her. "You can feel how much I want you, can't you? Don't make me beg."
Something changed in his face, something that transformed it and made him look dangerous. Ginny's breath caught in her throat. "Maybe I want you to beg," he said softly.
At those words Ginny felt another shameful rush of moisture. He massaged her gently while she moaned and tried to impale herself on his fingers.
"Ah ah, Ginny," he scolded, sliding a rough finger through her folds. She was so wet she could hear him doing it, and it was embarrassing but she didn't want him to stop. "Beg me." His eyes had darkened to the point that she could no longer make out their cool green color.
"Please..." The word trembled on her lips.
"Not good enough. Who knows when you'll be this agreeable again? I want you to say, 'Please fuck me with your long, hard cock.' Can you do that, Ginny?"
"I can't say that," she said, feeling heat in her neck and face just from hearing him say it.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't do it, then." And he took his hands from her.
Ginny felt the loss in every cell in her being. Just do what he says! her mind shrieked. "Please fuck me with your long, hard cock," she said in a barely audible tone, then added for good measure, "Harry."
He scowled. "Did I say you could improvise?"
"I'm sorry," Ginny moaned, wondering where this controlling Harry had come from. Not that she was complaining. Where was the part of her that had liked being in control? There was plenty of physical evidence indicating that perhaps she enjoyed being submissive even more. She just so rarely got the opportunity with Harry.
"I hate to be so lenient, but when you ask so nicely..." He sighed, and to her delight, moved over her and settled between her legs. She felt him at her entrance, and for a moment she doubted the sanity of doing this; he felt huge, but then he muttered, "This won't work at all," which panicked her into wrapping her legs around him. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, we're still going to fuck. But this sofa's too narrow and I need you to spread your legs a bit more..."
Ginny bit her lip, then shyly raised one leg and draped her foot over the back of the couch, while her other foot found purchase on the floor. She felt ridiculously proud when Harry aimed a grin at her that told her he was impressed.
Positioning himself again, he eased into her, closing his eyes. "Oh, yeah," he breathed. "So fucking tight."
It felt really good--at first. But the more he pushed, the more uncomfortable it was, as if something inside her was about to give way. Her distressed little whimpers finally got through to him, and he stopped, looking down at her with glazed eyes. They cleared when he saw her tears. "What's the matter?" he asked. Realization dawned. "You've never done this before?"
Ginny shook her head.
"Shit," he said. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," she answered, a bit put out. Was it so difficult to believe she was still a virgin?
Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked calmly.
"No," she said softly, feeling him let out a sigh of relief. "But do this part fast."
He nodded. "Hold on to me." Ginny wrapped her arms around him and concentrated on keeping herself relaxed.
Harry retreated until he nearly disengaged, then thrust forward quickly, breaking through the seal of her virginity. Ginny cried out when it happened; it hurt despite everything they'd done to make it easier for her. However, the momentary pain was well worth the feeling of having him fully inside her. He gave her some time to adjust, then, groaning an apology, began to thrust.
Despite everything it was such a lovely, intimate sensation, and before long Ginny was raising her hips to meet his, reveling in the sound their bodies made as they mated. His thrusts came faster and faster, harder and harder, until she was being lifted right off the sofa like a doll beneath him. She felt him swelling even further inside her, and knew he was going to climax soon.
"You're not on a birth control potion, are you?" he rasped in her ear. Ginny shook her head. "Okay. It's okay." He pulled out, and she felt the hotness of his release on her stomach as he quivered and jerked above her.
Ginny felt a sense of loss as she watched him, wishing he'd experienced his orgasm within her, and vowed to start taking a birth control potion immediately. As much as the experience had hurt at times, she felt strangely empty now without him there.
When he recovered, he kissed her gently, slowly, and Ginny felt her body stirring again. He grinned and said against her mouth, "Your turn." Before she knew what he was about, his dark head was between her legs and he was sucking her clit into his mouth, burying his fingers inside her. That was all it took for stars to explode behind her eyes.
After that, they met nearly every night.
Ginny started taking a contraceptive and learned to climax when he was inside her. Harry was diligent and inventive in his lovemaking, making her wonder how he had acquired his knowledge and skills; she was his first real girlfriend, as far as she knew.
Strange thing was, he never spoke of their activities in the light of day. If she got overly frisky with him, he would blush and rebuff her. It seemed that under the cover of darkness and moonlight, he could say and do all manner of wicked things to her, but outside of those confines he was unwilling to do anything more adventurous than snog--and those sessions were nowhere near as intense or satisfying as what they'd share later that night.
It wasn't long before she began to prefer her nighttime Harry, who not only made love to her but was attentive and tender in other ways. He made her feel cherished.
It wasn't just his behavior. At night he even smelled different.
It mystified her.
He ought to stop.
He shouldn't be taking advantage of her. He hated hearing Potter's name on her lips when it was him was inside her, him making her feel good.
But he accepted it as his punishment for his deception.
If she ever found out...
But she would never find out, not from him. He was very careful. What he had working for him was her own denial. She didn't want to admit the truth, and because of that, she would never see it. It was risky, but it worked--for nearly a month now.
He ought to stop. But he couldn't.
It should have been an unremarkable incident.
It began with Malfoy saying something nasty. He'd made it a point in the past to harass Ron and Hermione, and now that they were dating, he made it even more of a point. It used to be that he tormented Harry, too, but he'd stopped doing that for some reason. Instead, he would turn away, as if he couldn't bear to look at the other boy.
That day, she saw them outside the Great Hall before lunch--Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy. His back was to her, but she could see that he was leaning indolently against a wall while Hermione's face was pinched and white and Ron looked like a steaming lobster. Ginny approached, unafraid for some reason, and she was right behind him when Ron said something biting and Hermione pulled him away.
Malfoy straightened, undoubtedly preparing to go inside for his meal, but something made Ginny say, "They're really not so bad once you get to know them."
He whirled at the sound of her voice, looking panicked a second before his features returned to their normal state of scowling disdain. "Why the hell would I want to do that? Get out of my way, Weasley." He pushed past her, making her stumble. It wasn't the push that did it--he hadn't used much force. Neither was it his tone nor his words that had affected her.
It was the scent of his soap.
She was going to confront him, Ginny decided. Confront him and turn him in.
They met that night, same as usual. Immediately she made note of the differences in this Harry--unmistakable differences that only someone in denial would ignore.
Despite her convictions, when he opened his arms she stepped into them readily. And when he removed her shirt and then her bra, her own nimble fingers undid the fastening on his trousers.
She made sure not to say Harry's name.
When it was over, she felt slightly ashamed. She'd known it wasn't Harry, but she'd had sex with him anyway. Technically, she was cheating. She told herself she wouldn't do it again.
But she did.
She had many opportunities in the coming days to put an end to their assignations. Instead she avoided the real Harry and put off making any decisions.
Mulling things over one day, she realized the right thing to do would be to confess everything to Harry. Maybe then her guilt would be assuaged.
He slipped into the room, telling himself that tonight was going to be the last time. He always told himself that. Every time he ran low on Polyjuice, he told himself when it was gone, that would be it, no more pretense. And then he brewed more. Whenever he was low on Potter's hair, he told himself that he couldn't possibly deign to get more, then found himself ransacking Potter's locker for his brush. It seemed there was no level he would not stoop to for these nights in Ginny Weasley's arms.
Usually he arrived first, but tonight someone was already waiting for him.
"Fuck," he muttered. He thought about disappearing; Hogwarts had dozens of hidden nooks and crannies and he was very adept at evasion, but part of him wanted this confrontation.
"Don't you dare leave," Potter said furiously.
"You're going to stop me?"
"You might as well take it like a man," Potter blustered.
His brow furrowed. That sounded a bit dramatic, even for Potter. "Fine, let's have it out," he said easily.
"Who are you? What do you do in here with Ginny?"
"I suspect you already know, or you wouldn't be here," he replied in a bored tone. "She told you, didn't she?"
Potter nodded jerkily. "But I don't know who you are. I have my suspicions, however."
"Do you?"
"There are only a few people I can name so low they'd do something like this."
He blanched, but hoped he'd hidden it successfully. "Make whatever accusations you like. You can't prove anything. I'll be gone before the Polyjuice wears off."
"Just tell me why. Was it revenge? Because she's my girlfriend?"
He laughed shortly. "Not everything is about you, Potter. I can assure you that this was not about you. In fact, I wish you had nothing whatsoever to do with it." He knew he sounded bitter, but it couldn't be helped.
"But...so, what? This was about her?"
"Yes, dammit, it was about her!" he exploded. "She's wonderful and beautiful and kind and you ignored her for years! You've got everything and what do you do with it? Nothing. You piss it away. You don't deserve her."
"And you do?" Potter asked softly.
"No." He turned away sharply. "I don't deserve her, either."
"Why don't you let her decide?"
He jerked around again at the decidedly feminine voice, startled to find Ginny there. "Where did Potter go?" he asked stupidly, although the answer was right in front of his face, wearing clothes that were three sizes too big for her.
She shook her head. "It's just me--and it's just you, Draco." She gestured toward the sofa, where they had found bliss countless times. "It is you, isn't it?"
After all he'd done, he couldn't refuse. He sat.
"I needed to know for sure," she explained softly.
He didn't say anything.
"What you did was..."
Unconscionable, he supplied. Disgusting. Depraved.
"...wrong," she finished delicately. "But I'm not blameless, either. I knew you weren't really Harry. Too many things didn't add up. But I continued to meet you--"
His head jerked up. "For how long?"
Ginny flushed guiltily. "Long enough."
"Why?"
She was silent for so long he wasn't sure she would answer. Then she said, "I don't know. I liked being with you." She looked as though she were waiting for him to say something cutting.
He noticed she used the past tense. "I love being with you," he said, and it pained him to be so honest.
"Well, of course you do," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I mean, I never said no to you--"
"Not because of that," he interrupted. "So what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," she answered, looking away. "This is a very odd situation."
"Are you going to go to Dumbledore?"
"It would serve you right if I did," she said, but there was no rancor in her tone. "I'm not going to, though."
"Why not?" He knew he ought to let the subject drop, but he was masochistic. "Do you want to be with me?" he asked boldly.
She looked flustered. "Do you want to be with me?" she countered.
"Yes."
"Oh." She clearly hadn't expected an answer--or at least, not that one. "I need time to think."
"Take all the time you need."
Ginny waited nervously at the crest of the hill. She could see the castle in the distance.
She asked herself, for the umpteenth time, if she was mad to be doing this. For two weeks, she had avoided Draco Malfoy. It wasn't difficult, since normally their paths rarely crossed. Much harder had been avoiding Harry, who was starting to lose patience with her, she knew. But she couldn't speak to him when her emotions were in such turmoil. How had her life gotten so complicated?
It was bad enough that she had slept with someone else. Was she going to compound on that crime by giving up a good, decent boy like Harry?
She knew the answer was yes.
"Ginny?"
She turned and there he was, sunlight glinting off his platinum head.
"Thank you for meeting me," she said breathlessly, unable to look away as he approached.
When he reached her he touched the bridge of his nose, then bent and kissed her without any preliminaries.
Ginny melted into his touch, liking his forceful manner, then realized something was wrong. His touch was too hard, too needy, too...angry? She pushed him away. "You're not Draco," she said flatly.
"Damn right I'm not," said the look-alike, slumping suddenly and looking at her with a betrayed expression on his face. "I knew it. You've been acting funny for weeks. I saw you write that note," he continued accusingly, "and I tried to tell myself it was innocent--though Merlin knows what innocent reason you'd have for meeting him."
Ginny was horrified. "Harry?"
"Yes, remember me? Your sodding boyfriend?" She'd never seen him so incensed. She wondered if her betrayal had wounded his pride or his feelings more.
"Well, this is an interesting predicament, isn't it?" drawled a new voice. It was familiar in a way that shouldn't have been familiar at all.
Ginny and Harry whirled to discern the identity of the new participant in their personal melodrama. "This isn't your fucking busine--" Harry started to growl, then stopped in astonishment when he saw that the person he was reprimanding was...himself.
"I think it is my business," said the not-Harry, sauntering forward in a manner that was all too familiar to Ginny.
"Malfoy," snarled Harry.
"Potter," acknowledged Draco, looking exactly like Harry and nothing like him at the same time. The sleeves of his jumper were folded over several times, baring his arms, his tie was only loosely knotted, his dark hair wasn't unkempt, and he wasn't wearing glasses. He looked as much like Draco Malfoy as Harry Potter could possibly look.
Ginny wanted to ask Draco what he was doing. She was angry he had meant to trick her again. But she didn't dare question him about it in front of Harry, who would use her anger to fuel his own. The fact that she was put out with Draco was their private business. She had to be the calm, neutral one in this situation, if she wanted to keep everyone's blood flowing without disruption in their proper veins. Such as it was.
"Harry, I can--"
"What, explain? Go ahead." Harry crossed his arms and pierced her with a glance in a surprisingly Malfoy-like way. Maybe it was the gray eyes. "On second thought, don't bother. I don't even want to know what kind of twisted little games you're playing with him." He turned on his heel and stomped down the hill. Ginny looked after him helplessly.
"Good riddance," said Draco.
"You!" Ginny whirled on him. "What do you mean by meeting me here looking like that? Aren't you sick of this charade yet? Or are you only interested in being Harry?"
He grabbed her arms, fingers hard and biting. "That is the last thing I'm interested in," he said angrily. "Like you, I had to know for sure. And if you'd leapt into his arms and told him you were glad to see him, I--" He stopped and let go of her.
Ginny wrapped her arms around herself, unwillingly pleased by his passion. "I asked you here because..." She swallowed. "If you want to...we could try this."
"I want to," Draco said quickly.
"Okay," Ginny said, not knowing what else to say.
"And you'll break things off with Potter."
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Ginny said.
"Just in case he's harboring any misconceptions. I don't share."
"He shared with you," she reminded him saucily.
"I don't share," he repeated.
"I still don't know what it's like to kiss you," Ginny remarked wistfully, brushing some of his dark hair out of his eyes.
"The potion will wear off in a few minutes," he said. "I want you to stay with me when it happens."
"I want that, too," said Ginny.
Feeling the change beginning to take place, Draco feared that when she saw the real boy standing before her, without the cover of darkness and moonlight, she would change her mind. But she only took his hand--still shaking a bit from the transformation--and smiled the shy little smile that had first made him notice her.
"Hello," she said, and kissed him.
= end =
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 05:28 pm (UTC)You're right, she really should have come clean. Bad girl!!
And, thank you so much for your kind comments. *hugs*