Ginny cursed as she made her way down the abandoned hallway, her footsteps echoing eerily with every step. She prayed that she'd spot someone she knew or, failing that, at least a familiar-looking portrait or suit of armour or something. It seemed, however, that her luck was quickly growing worse, and showed no signs of recovery.

It was the stairs' fault, of course. If the stupid things didn't change with every softly blowing breeze, maybe she would have had a chance of actually getting back to Gryffindor Tower without getting lost. All she'd wanted was her damned Transfiguration text; she supposed that's what she deserved for finally showing some initiative.

"Oh, it's raining outside, Ginny!" she muttered to herself in an exaggerated falsetto. "No Quidditch -- what a perfect day to catch up on some homework! Why don't you leave the Great Hall -- without your friends -- and get yourself lost in some bloody paart of the bloody school that never should have bloody well existed! Brilliant."

This was, she knew too well from her brother's exploits, the kind of place where three-headed dogs lived.

Somewhere off to her left, she heard a scuffling noise, then a loud scrape, as though the furniture in this side of the castle had decided to up and move itself. Ginny -- brave Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor Chaser, serial dater, and completely over Harry Potter, honestly, thank you very much -- jumped about a foot in the air, desperately fighting the urge to huddle in the nearest corner until the storm passed or the cavalry rode in and rescued her.

As though sensing her impending sense of doom, there was a loud clap of thunder, further rattling her already shaky nerves. Ginny nearly screamed when she heard a crash -- furniture again -- quickly followed by the hoarse shout -- male -- of someone obviously in distress. Ginny's Gryffindor ethics overrode any sense of self-preservation, and after a moment's hesitation, she took off in the direction of the noise, cursing her apparently innate predilection toward dim-witted heroics.

Five doors and Ginny reached her destination; the door was open a crack, and noises -- a moan, or was that a groan? -- were coming from inside. It took a great deal of effort to resist her initial impulse, which was to burst through the door and rescue whomever needed rescuing, but she didn't know who -- or what -- might be waiting for her there. Diggingg through her robes, Ginny pulled out her wand and aimed it at the door, casting a one-way transparency charm.

What she saw nearly caused her legs to give way.

It was Harry, his back to the door. Harry, shirtless and kneeling on the hardwood floor, his head bent forward, lolling slightly from shoulder-to-shoulder, though his neck's movements were impeded; for reasons she couldn't quite fathom, Harry's arms were yanked high above his head as though secured by invisible wires, stretching his body so tight that Ginny only now noticed Harry was actually being pulled up from the ground, knees not quite touching the shiny surface.

Maybe I should get a teacher, she thought dimly, unconsciously licking her lips at the sight of Harry's bare torso and too-tense arms.

Then, Draco Malfoy entered her field of vision, and Ginny had to clap her hand over her mouth to suppress the ensuing gasp. She took a step closer to the door, wand hand outstretched, as though making that one new step would make her an active participant in the incomprehensible scenario.

Malfoy stood directly in front of Harry, and threaded his fingers through the unruly hair, caressing Harry's scalp so tenderly that Ginny almost thought she'd walked in on an intimate moment between two lovers -- a notion that was dashed the second Malfoy pulled. Harry emitted a strangled cry, drowning out Ginny's own sharp intake of breath. She knew she should leave, get help, but something had glued her to her spot.

When Malfoy finally spoke, she and Harry both flinched. "Dilated pupils are an enchanting look on you, Potter. I would say that you should go through your day-to-day activities Confunded, but it seems a little redundant, don't you think?"

"Hate... Malfoy," mumbled Harry, unable to vocalise much more. With his head drawn back, Ginny could see the pain written on his face, and she winced sympathetically as she took a step closer, ignoring the impatient thrum of arousal overtaking her entire body.

"Mmm, of course you do," Malfoy drawled. Though he kept the grip on Harry's hair, he used his free hand to loosen his tie and tug it over his head. He tossed the silver-and-green striped garment onto the large desk behind him, where Ginny now noticed Harry's shirt and tie lay nearby. "It's the only reason this is so appealing, and it's the only reason I keep beating you again and again." His hand was now deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing flash after flash of pale, unmarked skin.

Harry tried lifting his head to meet Malfoy's eye, but couldn't quite get the leverage in his current position. "Haven't... you never beat me..." His voice sounded slurred, drugged, thick to Ginny's ears, a blush spreading across her cheeks as quickly as the wetness between her legs.

"Not that you know of." Malfoy grinned and released Harry's head, so he could shrug off his shirt, before undoing the top button of his trousers.

Ginny gaped. He couldn't be about to... couldn't mean for Harry to...

Malfoy undid the zip, and pushed his trousers partway down his legs, exposing a half-hard cock surrounded by dark blond hair. "Suck," ordered Malfoy.

With effort, Harry turned his head to one side, which only meant he now had Malfoy's cock rubbing against his cheek. Ginny was pleased -- or disappointed, perhaps -- to see his eyes shut tight, mouth set in a straight line.

"Is that a no?" Malfoy leaned backward, his bum hitting the desk behind him, and he groped for his wand. "I'm sorry, but I have my wand, and you're dangling from the ceiling like a puppet on invisible strings." He pointed his wand at Harry's head; from this angle, Ginny could see the look of defiance Harry shot Malfoy in reply, but she still closed her eyes tightly, praying the scenario would play out the way both Malfoy and she were expecting.

She didn't want to see. She did want to see. She should run and get help. She should stay and help. Dimly, she recognised another crash of thunder, and the sounds of water pit-pattering against the stone walls echoing in her ears.

Finally, Ginny wrenched her eyes open again. She wasn't disappointed with the results.

With his wand hand still steady, Malfoy's free hand was wrapped around the back of Harry's head again, firmly holding him into place as he pushed his erection past slack lips. Harry tried scrambling back, but the hidden restraints and Malfoy's grip kept his head from moving. Ginny got a glimpse of slick skin sliding back and forth past that yielding mouth, and she all but bit through her lip, imagining those same lips buried between her legs, maybe a pink tongue lapping at her clit, her hands replacing Draco's in clinging to that mop of hair.

"Take it, Potter," Malfoy grunted, surging forward again. "It's fucking wonderful I've found a use for that mouth of yours. And you're such a good cocksucker, too, aren't you? Your mouth was bloody made for it. Those pretty red lips wrapped around my prick, like it was made to suck that thing to the back of your throat. All that -- fuck -- all that practise is paying off."

Ginny blinked in surprise as Harry made muffled noises of protest. She didn't need to hear the words to know what he was saying -- I'd never do this to you, Malfoy. I'm only doing this because I've got no choice, because you've trapped me. I've never done this to anyone before. Malfoy apparently knew, too, because he arched one eyebrow, and the shit-eating grin already plastered to his face grew just a bit wider.

"I love this part," he said merrily, pulling his cock all the way out before ramming it down Harry's throat again. "Of course you've never done this before, Potter. Makes you feel better, doesn't it? Just natural talent then, right? That's how you know just how to flick your tongue, how you know how to breathe through your nose when I choke you? How you know what's... ah, fuck... going to happen now?"

Ginny didn't, so she was shocked to see Harry pull back a second before Malfoy moved his hand from the back of Harry's head to wrap it around the base of his cock. He slid free of that mouth, shuddering and coming all over Harry's face.

The light of realisation dawned, making Ginny's head swim. Harry had flinched. Flinched before Malfoy had done a thing.

"See, Potter? You knew just what was coming." Malfoy gave a harsh laugh as he knelt in front of Harry, bringing them face to face. "Pun intended." He licked the cooling splash of his own come from Harry's cheek, and smirked.

Mouth freed again, Harry raised his head defiantly. "Fuck... you," he panted.

Malfoy's voice dropped so low Ginny could just barely read his lips: "As you wish." He leaned forward again, doing something with his hand that Ginny couldn't see, but caused Harry to loudly gasp.

Then he abruptly stood, pulling his still-unbuckled trousers up around his hips and sauntered out of Ginny's line of vision, leaving Harry sagging in his invisible bonds. Lightning flashed, casting Harry's face in gloomy, defeated shadow. His head turned a bit, revealing fresh tear tracks on his cheeks.

Ginny shook her head, ineffectually clearing the cobwebs from her over-stimulated mind. What she'd just seen... what Malfoy had done -- was doing -- was deplorable, unthinkable, andd yet, she couldn't pull herself away. Some dark part of her heart, one that she hadn't really acknowledged in years -- not since him -- called out to her, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, self-hatred crushing her. She leaned her head against the cool wood of the still-transparent door.

What was she doing? Ginny still had her wand clutched in one sweaty palm, and Malfoy didn't even know she was there -- one well-placed stunner to the chest, and she'd be Harry's heroine. She could stop him from ever having to endure the altered memories, or the absolute debasement again. Ginny raised her foot to kick in the door, her resolve returning just as Malfoy did.

He held in his hand a large, flat paddle. Where had that come from? Transfigured wand? Ginny froze, her foot still hovering above the floor. But, no, Malfoy's wand was still in his other hand in which he also juggled a small, ornate blue jar. Harry whimpered when he saw the paddle, and fruitlessly tried pulling away again; Ginny wasn't sure if it was due to half-formed memory, or because he'd reached the only logical conclusion. Malfoy smirked as he placed paddle and jar on the desk where he'd tossed their clothes.

Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, forcing him to his feet, and causing his arms to fall back to his sides. Ginny sighed in relief, taking some small comfort from something that must have been a relief for Harry, but then she noticed his back muscles were still corded, taut, straining because he was unable to move; his situation hadn't improved, no matter how much Ginny wanted to fool herself.

Still grinning like the cat that ate the canary, Malfoy laid down his wand, and walked a circle around Harry, slowly examining every inch of his body. The act was innocuous, especially considering what had just happened, but Ginny felt her skin crawl anyway. She could only imagine how Harry was feeling, which didn't explain how she needed to firmly press her legs together as blood continued to pool in her groin. Draco finally stopped his scrutiny, stood before Harry, and yanked Harry's trousers to his knees. Then, he was on Harry's side, pushing Harry forward so his cheek rested on the desk, arse and bollocks exposed for the whole world -- Ginny -- to see.

"Now, Potter," drawled Malfoy, still holding Harry by the scruff of the neck as he enchanted both of their ties, "we both knew you were going to flinch when I came." With a flick of his wrist, Malfoy forced Harry's arms behind his back, his red-and-gold striped tie winding its way around his wrists and securing them there.

"No," protested Harry, sounding even weaker than he had moments before.

Malfoy ignored him. "We also both know that you need to be punished," he continued as his Slytherin tie floated through the air, stuffing itself in Harry's mouth before making a neat bow at the back. "But, you scream when I punish you, and we wouldn't want anyone... else... to hear that, would we?"

Had Malfoy's eyes flicked to the door? Ginny blinked, and when she looked again, Malfoy had taken up the paddle, eyes firmly focussed on Harry's prone form.

Whoosh.

Ginny heard the paddle break the flow of air before she saw it land squarely on Harry's bottom. He let out a muted cry of anguish, and Ginny wanted to reach out to him, to soothe him, but not as much as she wanted to see Malfoy smack him again.

"Those holiday duelling lessons have paid off in more ways than one, Potter," said Malfoy conversationally, the crack of the paddle further reddening Harry's flesh. "Besides the newfound ability to get you into any position I'd like --" thwack "-- I think they've really improved my swing!"

Malfoy's arm drew back, hitting its mark again. And again. And again. And again. Harry cries grew more ragged and broken with every hit, and Ginny imagined his tears flowing anew, teeth trying to bite their way through his mouth's cloth prison.

Harry groaned, and Ginny pretended she didn't follow suit.

Malfoy put down the paddle down, reaching for the ornate jar that Ginny had nearly forgotten during the proceedings. He upended it, and a viscous dribble of oil spilled over the edge, onto Harry's body, running in rivulets over his back and disappearing into the valley between patches of stung red skin. Malfoy righted the jar again, then dipped his fingers inside, coating them with yet more oil before returning it to the place next to his wand.

With practised ease, Malfoy ran his fingers down the crack of Harry's arse, using one hand to spread the cheeks as far as they would go, further enhancing the obscene display. The fingers of his other hand were working their way inside of Harry, disappearing into that pink pucker before drawing back, then returning yet again. Ginny was reminded of Malfoy's prick disappearing into Harry's mouth, as the blond boy's movements quickened when Harry made repeated, urgent noises.

"Yes..." someone said, and it was a few moments before Ginny realised it'd come from her own parted lips.

"Oh, yes," said Malfoy, adding another finger to the two that were already firmly residing within Harry's tight hole. It almost seemed like Malfoy meant to answer her, but that couldn't be possi--

"Are you ever going to join us, Weasley?" Comically, lightning flashed, followed by a booming clap of thunder.

Ginny froze in place, suddenly knowing what a bunny rabbit must feel like right before a hunter puts a bullet in its brain.

Malfoy laughed, the same cruel noise from before. "Yes, I know you're there."

Her joints felt like they were made of jelly, and she knew there was no way she could run.

"Been watching the whole time, too." Malfoy withdrew his fingers, and stepped back, smacking Harry's behind with his bare hand.

She must have cast the charm wrong. It was impossible. She couldn't have--

"Well, are you coming?" Malfoy's voice was impatient -- yet dripping with promise -- as he pulled Harry up by his hair, and spun him around so they both faced the door. Ginny seized her chance. Taking a deep breath, she nudged the door open with her foot, and stood just inside the doorway. "Look," Malfoy murmured to Harry, "it's your rescuer."

Harry lurched forward as though he wanted to run to Ginny, but he was still under the effects of the Confundus and Malfoy was gripping his hips, so he just tipped forward and lifted his head, pleading with her with his eyes.

Ginny saw hope there.

Malfoy leaned against the desk, angling Harry's body so it lined up with his cock. "What will it be... Ginny?" She hadn't even known he knew her first name. "Rescue or ravage?" He arched up, pulling Harry flush against him, burying his cock deep with Harry's body.

Harry's scream was muffled by the tie stuffed in his mouth, but sounded no less wounded. "Please," he tried saying through the gag, spit running down his chin. Malfoy rocked, his slick hand rubbing up and down Harry's now-hard cock, making him cry out again, though in pain or pleasure, Ginny didn't know. "Please."

Ginny moaned at the sight, and her decision was made.

Taking a step toward them, Ginny pulled her tie over her head, then shakily undid the buttons on her blouse. When Harry saw her undressing, he cried out in distress again, repeating a garbled no over and over.

It didn't stop her. She didn't bother removing her bra before stepping out of her skirt, and was halfway to pulling her panties to her ankles when she reached Draco and Harry. Now, she was close enough to see that they were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, one drop escaping to make a path down Harry's chest. Without even thinking about it, Ginny leaned forward and chased that drop with her tongue, both tongue and sweat coming to rest where Malfoy's hand still lazily pumped Harry's hard, leaking cock.

Ginny glanced up, seeing Draco peer over Harry's shoulder, his breathing laboured as he forced Harry's body forward with another thrust.

"I want you to fuck him," Malfoy breathed to Ginny, "while I fuck him." Harry tried to say no again, but Malfoy just squeezed his prick harder, ripping a pained, aroused cry from his lips.

Ginny looked up, looked at Harry, then looked at Malfoy, and nodded. She quickly cast a barrier charm, and finally threw her wand aside, winding her arms around Harry's neck and pulling herself up, bracing her feet on the desk, one leg on either side of their bodies. Malfoy's free hand rested on her hip, while the other guided Harry to her slit. She slid down, and -- oh -- Harry was hard and he was warm and it was nothing like the time in the broom closet with Michael Corner, or that cramped bathroom on the Hogwarts Express with Dean. It was everything she could have asked for because it was Harry.

It didn't even matter that he couldn't touch her because Malfoy was touching her instead, and -- for now -- that was nearly as good. Every time Malfoy thrust, Harry would jerk upward, and she squeezed around him as he drove into her cunt. She pressed her body as close to his as she could get, his cock as deep inside her as it would go, her clit rubbing against the thatch of hair at his groin.

Ginny kissed and licked all around Harry's gag, then leaned over to tangle tongues with Malfoy, tasting sweat and boy and power. As she grew closer orgasm, rubbing growing more frantic, more rhythmic and circular, Ginny moaned wantonly, watching the hungry look on Draco's face, so different from the confusion-pleasure written all over Harry's. That look pushed her over the edge, and she rode him as hard as she could, throwing her head back and yelling "Harry!" as she came. Harry grunted softly a moment later, slicking her insides with warmth as Malfoy drove forward and moaned, "Such a good heroine, isn't she?" Ginny's trembling had subsided, allowing her to feel both boys' subsequent shudders, but her shaking started anew at Draco's words.

As Harry's cock softened inside her, Ginny, shame-faced and red, climbed out of his lap, gathering her clothes as quickly as possible. Malfoy practically shoved Harry off his prick, and took up his wand again to Stun him. Harry landed in a half-naked, crumpled heap on the floor.

"Why?" Ginny asked, eyes glued to her feet.

"Easier to dress him that way." Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"No," she said softly, too exhausted and guilty for exasperation. "Why do you do this? To him?"

"Because I can get away with it," Malfoy said, shrugging. "Because I hate him, and he wants it. If he didn't, he wouldn't pick a fight every week, wouldn't let himself get trapped in situations he can't escape."

Ginny took a shaky breath. "But he never remembers it."

"Of course he does; memory charms can only do so much. He'll make excuses for his sore arse tomorrow, chalking it up to idiotic Gryffindor exploits, but the next time I shove my cock into him, he'll remember. And then, when it's over, he picks another fight."

She looked into Malfoy's eyes, and saw nothing there but cold malice. He didn't love Harry like she did, didn't do this because he couldn't help himself. He just... hated Harry.

"He wants it, Weasley. I know why he does it..."

It couldn't happen again. Her wand was laying on the floor; she could reach over and grab it. She could Obliviate them both, tell a professor what was happening, say she walked in on Malfoy raping Harry and then Harry would --

"The thing I can't quite wrap my mind around --"

Ginny looked up, and saw a rather thoughtful look on Malfoy's face as he flicked his wand in her direction. Lightning flashed again, temporarily illuminating the room.

"-- is how you keep finding us. Oblivi--"