Sweet RevengeAuthor: alisanneCharacters:
Cormac McLaggen/Ginny WeasleyRating:
Romance Tropes: RevengeWord Count:
Valentine's Day is supposed to be for love, but sometimes it's for other things. Author's notes:
Thanks to koshweasley
for the pairing idea and to sevfan
for beta reading. Also, a special thank you goes out to torino10154
for reassuring me that I was going in the right (wrong?) direction with this. :)Disclaimer:
The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
By the time the clock over the bar strikes half past, Ginny’s seething. I wonder if they’ve even noticed they’re late yet?
she thinks, stalking from where she’s been waiting at the door over to a corner. Plopping herself into a booth, she crosses her arms and wonders how things came to this. It wasn’t supposed to work like this. Harry was supposed to come back to me, want me after he beat Voldemort. Instead--
She sighs, tracing the grain of the wood with her manicured fingertip as she thinks about Harry. About how, instead of taking her out, he spends every free moment with Ron and Hermione. Doing Merlin knew what. Tonight’s supposed to be for us, but that’s not looking likely now.
She’s even dressed up for the occasion, buying a short, tight green dress that the woman at the dress shop assured her would seduce any man. Only he has to show up.
The bar’s empty, devoid of any but the few poor sods who have no one with whom to spend Valentine’s Day. Resting her head back against the booth’s cushioned seat, Ginny realises that she’s now one of those poor sods. Pathetic.
Deciding to go home to her empty flat to mope rather than sit around and wait for Harry, she starts to edge her way out of the booth but someone blocks her exit by sitting down.
Ginny blinks, scowling when she realises who it is. “McLaggen?”
McLaggen smiles. “You actually remember me? I’m flattered. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I remember you, all right,” Ginny says, her tone saying ‘I wish I didn’t’. She smirks. “You almost made the Gryffindor Quidditch team the year Harry was captain.”
McLaggen’s smile dims slightly. “That’s right. And I would have, but for your brother, who beat me, fair and square.” His smile widens again, but this time it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Or did he?”
Ginny, eyes narrowing, glares at him. “I was just leaving, so if you’ll excuse me--”
“I was hoping I could buy you a drink, actually.” Like lightning, McLaggen grabs her wrist before she can shimmy out the other side of the booth. His grip is tight. “Come on. It’s Valentine’s Day and we’re both clearly alone. Just one drink?”
“Harry’s waiting for me,” Ginny lies, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Now if you’ll excuse me?”
McLaggen releases her wrist, raising his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “Of course.” He smirks. “I imagine you and Potter are going on a double date with Granger and Weasley?” Ginny tried not to react but something must show on her face because McLaggen’s smirk widens. “Or not. Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise?”
“I’m not telling you anything,” snaps Ginny. “It’s not your business.”
“No, of course not.” McLaggen licks his lips. “It’s just...I often wonder--”
Ginny doesn’t care what he wonders. “I need to go.” And yet she sits there.
“I’m not stopping you.” McLaggen shrugs. “If you want to play second fiddle to Granger, that’s your business. It must get old, though.”
“What the hell are you on about?” Ginny narrows her eyes.
McLaggen hums. “You mean you don’t know the rumours?”
“What rumours?” Ginny snaps. Not that she cares, it’s just best to nip such things in the bud.
“Well, everyone finds it curious that they spent all that time alone together during the war,” murmurs McLaggen. “All three of them alone in a tent, day in, day out. The rumour is that things have to have happened.”
“What things?” Ginny says, although of course she knows what things. She’s wondered that herself, especially with the way they act together, all their inside jokes. Sometimes she wonders if they realise how they finish each other’s sentences, how excluded she feels.
“You know.” McLaggen’s voice is a low purr. “Intimate things. Three teenagers in a tent for months. Come on, something
has to have happened.”
“You are vile,” Ginny enunciates through clenched teeth. “Nothing happened.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” McLaggen cocks an eyebrow. “Anyway, if you’re all right with the way things are then, of course, that’s your business. I just wanted to buy you a drink.” He leans in. “Maybe give Potter something to think about since he seems to be taking you for granted and spending all his time with his friends.” He places his hand on her arm again and this time she doesn’t pull away. His smile widens. “Maybe if he comes in and sees you with me, he’ll realise what he’s missing. It could make him quite affectionate. A gorgeous thing like you deserves some affection.”
Ginny bites her lower lip. An affectionate Harry would be a nice change. And maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt-- “When he gets here I’m leaving with him,” she says finally.
“Of course,” McLaggen agrees. “But in the meantime, shall we?”
drink,” Ginny says. “Just one.”
“Lovely.” Patting her arm, McLaggen goes to stand. “What would you like?”
Tossing her head, Ginny decides to have something different. “I’ll have a martini. Dirty. Lots of olives.”
“A dirty drink for a dirty girl.” McLaggen’s look makes her shiver and almost reconsider, but then he’s gone and Ginny sits back in the booth and ponders the satisfying flash of jealousy she’s sure she’ll see in Harry’s eyes when he finally shows up and sees her with another man. She eyes McLaggen as he’s at the bar. He’s not bad, and she briefly wonders what Hermione would say if she saw them.
The martini’s strong and by the time she finishes it, she’s a bit tipsy, her head swimming. McLaggen doesn’t really try to engage her in conversation, he just sips his own drink and watches her steadily over the rim of his goblet. It’s a bit creepy. “Another?” he asks when her glass is empty.
“I said just one,” Ginny says, but her words are slurred.
McLaggen smiles, leaning in to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know you said just one, you sweet thing, but they’re delicious, and you look like you could use another.” His fingers caress her jaw. “Couldn’t you?”
Ginny licks her lips. She is
thirsty, and while there had been a reason she didn’t want to drink very much with him, just then she can’t recall what it is. “I suppose--”
“Excellent.” Sliding out of the booth, McLaggen holds out his hand. “Come on, then.”
“Where are we going?” Ginny asks. She’s wobbly, so she’s leaning heavily on him. “I thought you were getting me another drink?”
“I am. But you look like you could use a nap, so I got us a room upstairs for a bit more privacy.”
Ginny frowns. That doesn’t sound right. There’s a reason she shouldn’t do that... By the time it occurs to her why she shouldn’t, he’s manoeuvred her up the stairs and down the hallway. “But Harry won’t see us,” she says.
“Of course he will,” McLaggen says, propelling her inside. “This will be even better. After all, everyone saw you come up here with me. Once he arrives asking for you, they’ll send him up, and then he’ll claim you as his own.”
Ginny blinks. “He will?”
“Definitely. I know I
would.” McLaggen gestures. “Now make yourself at home.”
There’s not much more than a manky bed, a couple of chairs, and a table with a pitcher and some glasses on it. Ginny wrinkles her nose.
“I ordered up some drinks for us,” McLaggen says. “But in the meantime, you should get more comfortable.”
Ginny stumbles over to the pitcher and tries to pour herself some water, but spills it everywhere.
McLaggen is right behind her, and, reaching around her, he takes the pitcher away. “Maybe I should do that,” he murmurs in her ear. “You seem to be having some difficulty.”
“I’m fine,” slurs Ginny. She’s dizzy, though, so when McLaggen steers her towards the bed, she goes.
“Have a seat,” he says, manoeuvring her onto the bed. “There, now isn’t that better?”
Ginny nods. It is better when she’s sitting.
“Are you hot, beautiful?” McLaggen asks. He’s standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “Martinis always make me hot. Especially dirty ones.”
Now that he mentions it, she is
a bit warm. Ginny nods, biting her lower lip.
McLaggen crouches down so his face is in front of hers. “Then maybe you should take something off,” he says, his hand settling on her leg. His thumb rubs the spot behind her knee. “That’s sure to make Potter jealous.”
Ginny shakes her head. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” McLaggen slides his hand a bit further up her leg until it’s resting high on her thigh. “You have underwear on, right? I mean it’s no worse than being in your bathing suit, is it?” He smiles into her eyes. “A gorgeous girl like you should be comfortable in her body, flaunt it.”
“I...” Ginny’s head’s swimming and she’s so very hot. “I can’t--”
“I can help,” says McLaggen. He stands, leaning over to undo the clasp of her dress and before she knows it, he’s unzipped it and is sliding it off. “Lift up, baby,” he says and she does.
When he steps away, her dress in hand, Ginny starts to cross her arms, but McLaggen shakes his head. “Now come on. Don’t I deserve a look? I did buy you a drink.”
Ginny blinks at him, trying to focus. “I didn’t ask you to--”
“You didn’t have to.” He drapes her dress over the back of one of the chairs. Then, pouring her water from the pitcher, he brings it over to her. “Here you are. Have some water. You’ll feel better.”
Ginny accepts the drink and takes a sip. It’s not water, it’s vodka, and it’s much stronger than the first drink he brought her. She chokes.
McLaggen’s smile goes sly. “A bit too much?” He takes the glass. “That’s all right, all you needed was a sip anyway.”
“What?” With growing horror, Ginny looks at the glass. “You put something in my drink!”
“Of course I did.” Reaching out, he deftly undoes her bra, tossing it aside before cupping one of her breasts in his hands and sliding his thumb over her nipple until it pebbles. “What is it they call alcohol? Social lubricant? Well, you needed a bit more than that, so I gave it to you.”
“You can’t.” Ginny tries to lean away but instead ends up flat on her back.
McLaggen stands and starts to undress. “You know, I thought you’d be smarter, but then again, not everyone can be like Granger.” He smirks. “She’d never have fallen for this trick.” He tilts his head. “Maybe that’s why she has both Potter and your brother at her beck and call and you have no one.” He purses his lips as he steps out of his trousers. “Although you’re about to have me, so I suppose that’s something--”
“No,” Ginny whispers. She tries to stand but her limbs won’t obey her. “You can’t!”
He pushes down his pants and his cock springs free. “I think you’ll find I can,” he murmurs. He reaches down, lifting her up and positioning her on the bed. Spreading her legs, he slides a thumb under her knickers, smirking as he pushes it inside her. “Oh yes,” he says. “Social lubricant indeed.”
“Please,” Ginny begs. “Don’t--”
“Hush, baby.” McLaggen strips off her knickers before spreading her legs even wider. Grabbing a pillow, he shoves it under her hips so she’s tilted up for him. He kneels between her legs. Bending over her, he smiles into her eyes as he positions his cock. “You know, I’ve had my eye on Granger for years,” he says as he slides inside her. “But I never could get close enough. Fucking you will just have to do.”
Ginny tries to close her eyes, but as soon as she does, he growls. “Now none of that. Open your eyes!”
Her eyes snap open. Evidently her body listens only to him.
McLaggen smirks down at her. “Look at me as I fuck you,” he says as he moves in and out. His hand fondles her breast. “Can’t have you forgetting who it is inside you, after all. And quit pretending you don’t want me. You do, you know you do.”
The horrifying part is that she does. She’s wet, her body welcoming his every push inside. Ginny can feel pleasure spiralling through her as he moves, and she clenches her teeth, trying to stave off her orgasm.
It’s as if McLaggen knows, though. As if he knows that she’s close. “Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his breath hot on her skin. “Come now.”
Ginny cries out as her body undulates, wave upon wave of pleasure moving through her until she’s limp. “Why are you doing this?” she gasps as she tries to catch her breath.
He grins, his thrusts picking up speed as he pounds into her sated body. “Why revenge, of course,” he grunts as his orgasm takes him. He closes his eyes and grinds himself against her cunt, his back arching as he comes pulsing inside her. When, with a groan, he collapses atop her moments later panting, however, his hand is still playing with her nipple.
Ginny swallows. “Revenge against who?” she whispers.
McLaggen lifts his head. “Granger, Weasley, Potter, the whole lot of you.” He slips his deflated cock out of her, replacing it with fingers. After coating them thoroughly with her juices and his seed, he slides them over her perineum and towards her arsehole.
Ginny moans as he plays with her arse. “Please,” she begs. “Stop. Haven’t you done enough?”
McLaggen smiles as one finger slips inside her arse. “Oh, baby,” he says, the look in his eyes making her blood run cold. “Revenge is so sweet, when is it ever enough?”