Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. It's J.K. Rowling's. I own only this plot and my dirty little mind.

A/N: Have been trying to write this piece ever since…ever. My first draft had been very horrible, but after Ginny's little episode with Draco in OotP, my second draft made a lot more sense. So here it is, my little D/G ficlet that's hopefully gonna knock your socks off. Read, enjoy, and review!

Sensation

By: Moonrabbit One OotP Spoiler Ahead

There will be no explicit sexual scenes, but it does go rather far.

Ginny Weasley gritted her teeth menacingly as she paused again in the essay she was forced to write for Binns. (Ginny had unfortunately and heroically set a Dungbomb when the lesson got way too boring.) But the essay wasn't the nub of the problem now. Ginny had been in detention often enough to know how to suck up to teachers in those apology essays, and Binns…well, let's say she was an expert with him.

Back to the problem.

The nub of the problem was—since when was it anyone else? Ginny wanted to scream—Draco Malfoy.

For every sentence Ginny wrote on her piece of parchment, Malfoy would lean over the back of her chair—why did he have to sit in back of her? And why did he have to have set a Dungbomb on the same teacher on the same DAY?—and drip a few generous drops of his scarlet ink on Ginny's new robes. All right, dirtying her robes wasn't that bad; Ginny could get Hermione Granger to clean it with a flick of her wand, but the sensation of the ink rolling from her neck, past her bra, down to her back into her skirt…that wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. It felt as if Fred and George had cracked a few eggs on her head and just let the yolk swim down all the way till they reach her toes.

It was utterly infuriating.

As if that wasn't all, he would whisper a few snide comments in her ears. 'So, Weasley, thinking about breaking up with Thomas to go after Potter again?' or 'That Chasing move you did was FAR from orthodox, my dear' or other stupid comments that wouldn't bother her but would annoy her to no end. Ginny knew why he was doing that. He was doing that because she had given him a taste of her best hex last year, and he was trying to get her back. Well, too bad. Ginny was proud of what she did, and she wasn't about to just buckle over because Malfoy was again being the same brat he always was and always would be.

And now he was doing it again.

Ginny had an urge to turn around and give him that same hex again, and perhaps hex Binns just for the record, since he was snoring and not caring that one of his students was being harassed, but she forced herself to calm down. The sooner you finish your essay, Ginny, she told herself forcefully, the sooner you can get away from him, and the next time, give him two curses plus a hex on the top for what he did. She managed to smirk. Yeah, that's it. That'll teach him a lesson about messing with me.

Oh, and this time, he wasn't just dripping the ink.

No, not at all. Malfoy was writing on the back of Ginny's neck. Apart from cursing the robe-makers for making girls' robes so exposed, Ginny found herself…well, she found herself trying to figure out what exactly Malfoy was writing about. He had swept back a flaming strand of her hair and was writing very carefully the same thing over and over again on her neck, always in the same place, the quill very gentle and soft.

So very gentle and soft that it sent shivers down Ginny's spine.

But that's not it's supposed to be at all! Ginny was horrified, hurrying herself to finish the essay to get away. I don't even get the same feelings with Michael, not even Dean, hell, not even Harry anymore, and here MALFOY is giving me the same chills I used to get when Harry talks to me? She tried to move forward in her seat, to let Malfoy get back to just dripping the ink rather than writing on her, but as soon as the quill left her neck, she felt…empty.

She liked that feeling.

She liked that feeling so much that she loved it.

Whatever, Ginny. Dean can do the same thing. But Ginny doubted it. She seriously and utterly doubted if Dean would come and write on her neck and drip on her robes. He was more likely to get her into a discussion about his West Ham soccer team, whatever that was. She wrote faster on her essay so that she could get back to her common room and pretend that nothing like this happened at all, when—

She felt it again.

Except it wasn't the quill this time.

It was…his finger.

Malfoy's finger was very soft and cold and smooth, with the gentlest touch as he wrote again and again on her neck. His other hand was softly lifting her long hair as he wrote again and again on her neck, his cold finger stroking steadily, and having Ginny shivering.

She dropped her quill, and let herself drown in the sensation that came over her.

It was incredible. It was indescribable. All she knew was that she would sit like that till the end of times, letting Malfoy write whatever it was he was writing on her. All thoughts of Michael and Dean were flung out of her mind. The only person in her mind now was Malfoy.

He stopped writing, and Ginny ached with disappointment. "You like it?" he huffed into her neck, and he didn't need Ginny's automatic nod. The way her body seized up as his finger left, the relaxation when the pressure returned…it was too obvious that Ginny wanted him.

His whole hand was on her neck now, and it slowly wondered down her robes, into her blouse. Ginny closed her eyes as he stroked her bare back, and toyed with the clasp of her bra. She thought she could imagine his husky breathing, as if he too was being seduced.

Seduced? SEDUCED? Ginny tried to sit up, tried to continue writing. She could not be seduced by him! It was against the law of nature! It was against everything!

But it was a pleasure to her. Her guilty pleasure.

She leaned back with a sigh, and the chair toppled over, sending her right into Malfoy's arms as he perched over his desk, his own essay a long forgotten wad of parchment on the floor. His husky breathing was even louder; it wasn't her imagination. He wanted her too.

He turned her around to face him, his gray eyes full of desire meeting her equally desirous brown ones, before Ginny closed her eyes. She felt him stroking her back, her hair, and cheek. She felt his warm breath on the side of her neck as he undid her robes, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. She tried to struggle as he unbuttoned her blouse, but his lips met hers.

Ginny thought her body would explode what with the burning desire searing through it. It seemed like the catalyst for everything. She flung her arms around him, kissing him back, his warm lips on hers, his soft tongue stroking her lips as she opened up to admit it. Their tongues battled in a way that Ginny had never experienced before, as she felt her body become exposed as her blouse joined the robes on the floor, leaving Ginny wearing only a knee-length secondhand skirt and a lacy bra before her most hated enemy.

"You hexed me, you little weasel…" Ginny heard Malfoy whisper caressingly. "I'll get you back…" His hands encircled her waist as he held on to her lips, stopping her from coming back for hair. Ginny didn't need to. She would gladly suffocate if it were for this. She might seem to be a strong woman, but she was vulnerable too.

When she opened her eyes as they broke for breath, she saw that his sleek blonde hair was matted by her fingers running through them, that his robes had too joined her own on the floor, and that his shirt was lopsided, and torn, as if she'd been trying to rip it off of him. He wasn't as scrawny as he seemed; he had grown too, and the sight of it made Ginny initiate for his kiss this time.

They kissed as if there was no tomorrow, slipping each other's pants and skirt down, kicking each other's shoes and socks to the other side of the classroom, as they pressed together in boxers and bras, kissing and kissing. Ginny couldn't believe she was doing this. She supposedly hated him, didn't she? Yes, and it made her long for him all the more. He and his kisses, his caresses, his touches, and the sensations fluttering from just touching him skin to skin.

Finally, the two of them came to a point where there was nothing between them but Ginny's pink and lacy bra. By then, the chairs and desks were overturned, the essays smudged on the floor, and Malfoy was lying stark naked on the floor with an all but naked Ginny sitting on his lap, their arms around each other, their foreheads touching.

"You…are…so…dead…Malfoy…" Ginny whispered, breathing heavily.

"Draco…" he slowly unclasped her bra. "It's Draco."

"Draco…" she breathed, stroking his chest. "Draco…you are so dead…"

Draco and Ginny lay on the floor, and Draco drew her to his chest. "No I won't," he said. "This is my revenge for your little curse." Ginny shook her head disbelievingly. "Because, Ginny, there won't ever be something like this between us again." And with that, he nibbled each of her breasts, kissed her lips one last fiery times, put on his clothes, tamed his hair, and left as if nothing had ever happened.

It was later, in the showers, that Ginny pondered his words. Yes, it was the greatest punishment to her, to have fallen such a victim to his caresses, and to have to endure the rest of her life living without it. During, she suddenly remembered something. She stepped out of the shower to the mirror. There, reflecting the back of her neck, she saw the words written so indelibly that they hadn't appeared the least bit smudged: GINNY MALFOY.

A/N: Now you know what a perverted little girl I am. *smile* But hey, at least they didn't do that, right? As for Binns and what happened to him when he found his classroom in turmoil and the half-finished essays…let's just say that he, being the boring professor he was, gave Draco and Ginny one whole week of detention…together. Well, can you imagine what'll happen then?

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