The Tapestry of the Red Horse: Chapter 1
October 2 - 1996 - Sixth Year -
It was after Quidditch. Thanks to Voldemort's latest attempt at assassination, Harry was still under house arrest and banned from even watching the game, let alone playing in it. Ginny was a good seeker, but not as good as Malfoy, who (much to my and Harry's chagrin) was only second in the school to Harry. I had stayed back in the locker rooms, too depressed to speak to anyone, let alone the whole House. It wasn't my fault, really. Slytherin had only got one goal in, but we had only got three and that isn't nearly enough to win if you don't get the snitch. But still, Slytherin had won. Malfoy, bloody fucking ferret Draco Malfoy, had beaten us. I suddenly realized what Wood must have gone through after the Dementor's stormed the field Third Year.
And so I sat on a bench in the locker rooms alone, and wallowed in my own pity. Except that I wasn't alone. Malfoy was there, had stayed behind; I can only assume his reason was torture and humiliation. He did not operate on any other level that I knew of.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here. A sad, pathetic, little Weasel. Going to cry, then? Can't stand to lose to Slytherin like you were born to? Is that why you stay behind?"
I sighed and rubbed at my temples, not looking at him. "Why are you here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you be with your house? Celebrating? Sacrificing Muggle children or whatever the bloody fuck you do?"
He smirked, and then pretended to pout. "I would be, but sadly there were no Muggles around." His pout turned into an evil grin. "Besides, what do you think I'm doing? Watching you look like they've just killed your fat cow of a mother is like my own personal party."
I'd risen when he insulted Mum, and I began to gain on him. "You watch what you say about my mum. Your goons aren't here, and I would have no problem rearranging that pointy little face of yours."
"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, resorting to violence over a simple truth? What would your mother say? Oh wait, that's right, she only moos, doesn't she? Terribly-Bloody Hell!" As soon as it had come out of his mouth, my fist landed on his nose. He glared at me, clutching the obviously broken cartilage as blood oozed down his hands and chin.
I smirked at him. "What was that about my mum?"
He let go of his nose, which was still dripping blood down his chin, making him look as though he'd just eaten raw flesh right off the bone, and wiped his hands on his robes. "I said that your fat cow of a mother can only moo." As if to punctuate the statement, he returned my punch with one of his own.
Pain seared through my face and I clamped one hand over my wounded eye. Before I'd even put any thought into it, I punched him again, in the cheek. He staggered back a bit before growling and lunging at me, shoving me against a set of lockers. I prepared myself for another punch, but it never came. There was a pause in which we glared death threats at one another, but then one moment, a glint of something in the grey, and his lips were smashed against mine. I tasted his blood on my lips, salty and almost addictive. I found myself licking at it to taste more, but no, this was wrong, perverse, unbalanced. Bloody Fuck, this was Malfoy!
I shoved him off, or tried to, but he had me firmly pinned to the wall, so I kneed his bits to get him off. He groaned and cowered away from me, doubled over in pain. "What the fuck was that, Malfoy?! You fucking pervert!"
I heard him inhale a breath before he stood straight, dabbing daintily at his nose with his sleeve. "Nothing, Weasel. It was nothing. Now if you'll excuse me." He tried to push passed me, but I would not let him leave.
"No, you don't get off that easy. You just kissed me, you sick fuck! You need to explain yourself before I kick the living shit out of you."
He growled and pushed at me chest, but I didn't move. "Get out of my way, fucking Weasley."
"Not until you explain yourself."
He sighed and ran a hand impatiently through his hair. "I was testing out a hypothesis, simple as that."
"What hypothesis was that? How far you have to go before you make me puke in disgust?"
"None of your concern, actually. Now move before I lose all patience and really hurt you." I didn't move. He growled and shoved me again. "Unless you want me to do it again, move!"
Rage had slowly been building in me during our exchange and once those words left his lips, it bubbled over. I had knocked him over and was pummeling every square inch of his face before I even realized what I was doing. He fought back, punching me in the stomach and chest, but I didn't stop. He finally made contact with my groin, causing me to keel over, covering it protectively. He sneered and slammed me onto my back, straddling me, grabbing my hands and holding them above my head to keep me from accosting him again. His eyes looked badly bruised, his lip sliced a few times and starting to swell and his nose was bleeding even more. I glared up at him, panting from exertion.
"That was severely unnecessary."
"You're severely unnecessary."
"Brilliant, Weasley, bloody brilliant. It's a wonder you don't get higher marks."
"Let me go, Malfoy." I struggled against him, but he only leaned more weight on me.
"So you can destroy my face further? I think not, Weasel."
"You deserved it, you fucking pervert."
He smirked maliciously. "Pervert? That's the funny thing, I'm fairly certain I felt your tongue licking my blood off. Bit passed perverted and into the cannibalistic, don't you think?"
I snarled and arched up to try to squirm away from him, but apparently that was a bad idea because before I knew what was happening, his mouth was attached to mine again. Disgusted, I struggled further, but that only fueled him further, fighting to gain entrance with his tongue. I bit down on his already bleeding lip hard, trying to hurt him into releasing me, but he only groaned and rolled his hips into mine. I gasped at the unwanted pleasure his hips moving against mine sent up my spine and then directly back down to my groin. His tongue was violently plundering my mouth, moving against mine in what could only be described as an attack. The thought of this made things a little clearer. Nothing had changed, we were still fighting, and viciously, but just using a different outlet to do so.
Not one to allow Malfoy to get the best of me, I pushed up against him, mashing our teeth together in my impatience to best him. His groan reverberated inside my mouth and he became more insistent, his fingers working at my trousers' opening. Realizing that because I had not taken the time to fully dress before settling to mope, he had more clothing on than I did, I ripped at his shirt, snapping off a few of the buttons in my haste to divest him. He let me push off the damaged clothing before jamming his hand into my open trousers, pulling rather hard against my burgeoning erection. I groaned and arched into his hand, pleasure like I had never felt engulfing my body like flames to parchment. He continued with his vicious stroking, nibbling on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood before sucking it away. I scratched fingernail marks down his spine, feeling the gashes ooze thick liquid beneath my fingers. His lips trailed down my neck, biting hard enough to leave instant marks, before grinding my collar bone between his teeth.
My head dropped as my mouth opened in a silent cry, my eyes wider than I thought possible. My hands moved underneath his trousers and pants to clench his cheeks, nails digging into the baby-soft skin. I heard him groan into the conclave created by my collar bone as he ground his hips down into mine, his hand having abandon my length in favor of twisting a nipple rather hard. A strangled curse left my lips only to be silenced by his. I devoured his tongue, sucking on it as hard as I could. He gasped into my mouth and fought against me, forcing my head to slam against the cement floor. Pain shot through my skull, but I ignored it in favor of dragging my already embedded nails up his arse cheeks, creating gashes along the skin.
He yelled a curse and raised up to glare at me. "I fucking hate you, fucking Weasel." Before I could retort, his lips were attached to mine again, and I was being ground into the floor. Pain shot up my spine as his grinding began to bruise my tail bone and I bit his tongue in retaliation, causing him to groan and only push harder. I felt one of his hands slide underneath my trousers again, moving over my erection to rub against my opening. Without warning he'd pushed two fingers into me and began to viciously thrust them. I cried out, my exclamation lost in his mouth, but he ignored me and continued to rip me open. He abandoned my lips in favor of biting my earlobe before a harsh, rasping whisper filled my ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard into the floor that you'll forget your own name and you'll be begging me to make you come, you pathetic fucking poor boy."
I'd got lost somewhere in these new sensations, and it took a lot of will power to pull myself back out of them. When I did, I shoved him off, catching him off guard enough to force him sprawling on the floor a few feet away. I sneered at him and sat up, fumbling to find my shirt in the bag I had left open earlier. "You are one sick fuck, you know that? I don't know what you're playing at, but we are not fucking, ever. And even if we did, which we won't, I am not about to let you… do that…" A shudder ran through me and I stood up, having been successful in my hunt, and tugged the shirt over my head. He just sat there, staring at me, looking slightly in disbelief at my having shoved him away. "I can't believe you would… I mean… Eww… That's low even for you."
He growled and struggled to stand up, righting his trousers as he straightened. "Fuck you, Weasel. You liked it and you know you want more." He took a step toward me, and his glare had somehow turned predatory. Unnerved, I took a step back, picking up my bag as I did so. "Admit it. You loved it. You're a dirty little whore, and now you want nothing more than to be my dirty little whore." He took another step.
Infuriated, I punched him right in the nose again, ensuring that if it hadn't been broken before, it most certainly was now. Before he could recover, I stormed out, disgusted and going to desperate mental measures to excuse what had just happened. I got half-way back to the castle before I realized I hadn't re-fastened my jeans yet. I tore the zip up savagely and buttoned the fasten before continuing on, ranting under my breath.
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Edited on 02/20/2006, 03/06/2013
It was after Quidditch. Thanks to Voldemort's latest attempt at assassination, Harry was still under house arrest and banned from even watching the game, let alone playing in it. Ginny was a good seeker, but not as good as Malfoy, who (much to my and Harry's chagrin) was only second in the school to Harry. I had stayed back in the locker rooms, too depressed to speak to anyone, let alone the whole House. It wasn't my fault, really. Slytherin had only got one goal in, but we had only got three and that isn't nearly enough to win if you don't get the snitch. But still, Slytherin had won. Malfoy, bloody fucking ferret Draco Malfoy, had beaten us. I suddenly realized what Wood must have gone through after the Dementor's stormed the field Third Year.
And so I sat on a bench in the locker rooms alone, and wallowed in my own pity. Except that I wasn't alone. Malfoy was there, had stayed behind; I can only assume his reason was torture and humiliation. He did not operate on any other level that I knew of.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here. A sad, pathetic, little Weasel. Going to cry, then? Can't stand to lose to Slytherin like you were born to? Is that why you stay behind?"
I sighed and rubbed at my temples, not looking at him. "Why are you here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you be with your house? Celebrating? Sacrificing Muggle children or whatever the bloody fuck you do?"
He smirked, and then pretended to pout. "I would be, but sadly there were no Muggles around." His pout turned into an evil grin. "Besides, what do you think I'm doing? Watching you look like they've just killed your fat cow of a mother is like my own personal party."
I'd risen when he insulted Mum, and I began to gain on him. "You watch what you say about my mum. Your goons aren't here, and I would have no problem rearranging that pointy little face of yours."
"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, resorting to violence over a simple truth? What would your mother say? Oh wait, that's right, she only moos, doesn't she? Terribly-Bloody Hell!" As soon as it had come out of his mouth, my fist landed on his nose. He glared at me, clutching the obviously broken cartilage as blood oozed down his hands and chin.
I smirked at him. "What was that about my mum?"
He let go of his nose, which was still dripping blood down his chin, making him look as though he'd just eaten raw flesh right off the bone, and wiped his hands on his robes. "I said that your fat cow of a mother can only moo." As if to punctuate the statement, he returned my punch with one of his own.
Pain seared through my face and I clamped one hand over my wounded eye. Before I'd even put any thought into it, I punched him again, in the cheek. He staggered back a bit before growling and lunging at me, shoving me against a set of lockers. I prepared myself for another punch, but it never came. There was a pause in which we glared death threats at one another, but then one moment, a glint of something in the grey, and his lips were smashed against mine. I tasted his blood on my lips, salty and almost addictive. I found myself licking at it to taste more, but no, this was wrong, perverse, unbalanced. Bloody Fuck, this was Malfoy!
I shoved him off, or tried to, but he had me firmly pinned to the wall, so I kneed his bits to get him off. He groaned and cowered away from me, doubled over in pain. "What the fuck was that, Malfoy?! You fucking pervert!"
I heard him inhale a breath before he stood straight, dabbing daintily at his nose with his sleeve. "Nothing, Weasel. It was nothing. Now if you'll excuse me." He tried to push passed me, but I would not let him leave.
"No, you don't get off that easy. You just kissed me, you sick fuck! You need to explain yourself before I kick the living shit out of you."
He growled and pushed at me chest, but I didn't move. "Get out of my way, fucking Weasley."
"Not until you explain yourself."
He sighed and ran a hand impatiently through his hair. "I was testing out a hypothesis, simple as that."
"What hypothesis was that? How far you have to go before you make me puke in disgust?"
"None of your concern, actually. Now move before I lose all patience and really hurt you." I didn't move. He growled and shoved me again. "Unless you want me to do it again, move!"
Rage had slowly been building in me during our exchange and once those words left his lips, it bubbled over. I had knocked him over and was pummeling every square inch of his face before I even realized what I was doing. He fought back, punching me in the stomach and chest, but I didn't stop. He finally made contact with my groin, causing me to keel over, covering it protectively. He sneered and slammed me onto my back, straddling me, grabbing my hands and holding them above my head to keep me from accosting him again. His eyes looked badly bruised, his lip sliced a few times and starting to swell and his nose was bleeding even more. I glared up at him, panting from exertion.
"That was severely unnecessary."
"You're severely unnecessary."
"Brilliant, Weasley, bloody brilliant. It's a wonder you don't get higher marks."
"Let me go, Malfoy." I struggled against him, but he only leaned more weight on me.
"So you can destroy my face further? I think not, Weasel."
"You deserved it, you fucking pervert."
He smirked maliciously. "Pervert? That's the funny thing, I'm fairly certain I felt your tongue licking my blood off. Bit passed perverted and into the cannibalistic, don't you think?"
I snarled and arched up to try to squirm away from him, but apparently that was a bad idea because before I knew what was happening, his mouth was attached to mine again. Disgusted, I struggled further, but that only fueled him further, fighting to gain entrance with his tongue. I bit down on his already bleeding lip hard, trying to hurt him into releasing me, but he only groaned and rolled his hips into mine. I gasped at the unwanted pleasure his hips moving against mine sent up my spine and then directly back down to my groin. His tongue was violently plundering my mouth, moving against mine in what could only be described as an attack. The thought of this made things a little clearer. Nothing had changed, we were still fighting, and viciously, but just using a different outlet to do so.
Not one to allow Malfoy to get the best of me, I pushed up against him, mashing our teeth together in my impatience to best him. His groan reverberated inside my mouth and he became more insistent, his fingers working at my trousers' opening. Realizing that because I had not taken the time to fully dress before settling to mope, he had more clothing on than I did, I ripped at his shirt, snapping off a few of the buttons in my haste to divest him. He let me push off the damaged clothing before jamming his hand into my open trousers, pulling rather hard against my burgeoning erection. I groaned and arched into his hand, pleasure like I had never felt engulfing my body like flames to parchment. He continued with his vicious stroking, nibbling on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood before sucking it away. I scratched fingernail marks down his spine, feeling the gashes ooze thick liquid beneath my fingers. His lips trailed down my neck, biting hard enough to leave instant marks, before grinding my collar bone between his teeth.
My head dropped as my mouth opened in a silent cry, my eyes wider than I thought possible. My hands moved underneath his trousers and pants to clench his cheeks, nails digging into the baby-soft skin. I heard him groan into the conclave created by my collar bone as he ground his hips down into mine, his hand having abandon my length in favor of twisting a nipple rather hard. A strangled curse left my lips only to be silenced by his. I devoured his tongue, sucking on it as hard as I could. He gasped into my mouth and fought against me, forcing my head to slam against the cement floor. Pain shot through my skull, but I ignored it in favor of dragging my already embedded nails up his arse cheeks, creating gashes along the skin.
He yelled a curse and raised up to glare at me. "I fucking hate you, fucking Weasel." Before I could retort, his lips were attached to mine again, and I was being ground into the floor. Pain shot up my spine as his grinding began to bruise my tail bone and I bit his tongue in retaliation, causing him to groan and only push harder. I felt one of his hands slide underneath my trousers again, moving over my erection to rub against my opening. Without warning he'd pushed two fingers into me and began to viciously thrust them. I cried out, my exclamation lost in his mouth, but he ignored me and continued to rip me open. He abandoned my lips in favor of biting my earlobe before a harsh, rasping whisper filled my ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard into the floor that you'll forget your own name and you'll be begging me to make you come, you pathetic fucking poor boy."
I'd got lost somewhere in these new sensations, and it took a lot of will power to pull myself back out of them. When I did, I shoved him off, catching him off guard enough to force him sprawling on the floor a few feet away. I sneered at him and sat up, fumbling to find my shirt in the bag I had left open earlier. "You are one sick fuck, you know that? I don't know what you're playing at, but we are not fucking, ever. And even if we did, which we won't, I am not about to let you… do that…" A shudder ran through me and I stood up, having been successful in my hunt, and tugged the shirt over my head. He just sat there, staring at me, looking slightly in disbelief at my having shoved him away. "I can't believe you would… I mean… Eww… That's low even for you."
He growled and struggled to stand up, righting his trousers as he straightened. "Fuck you, Weasel. You liked it and you know you want more." He took a step toward me, and his glare had somehow turned predatory. Unnerved, I took a step back, picking up my bag as I did so. "Admit it. You loved it. You're a dirty little whore, and now you want nothing more than to be my dirty little whore." He took another step.
Infuriated, I punched him right in the nose again, ensuring that if it hadn't been broken before, it most certainly was now. Before he could recover, I stormed out, disgusted and going to desperate mental measures to excuse what had just happened. I got half-way back to the castle before I realized I hadn't re-fastened my jeans yet. I tore the zip up savagely and buttoned the fasten before continuing on, ranting under my breath.
>
Edited on 02/20/2006, 03/06/2013