mature content ~ viewer discretion is advised
The sheer power of youth to leave skeletons buried among the path they continue to lightly tread took shape in the form of Ramona Xanthos, who lead the funeral parade herself.
Even though Ramona was used to the kind of life that required looking over her shoulder with every step she took, the paranoia and dread that settled in her stomach following the events of her birthday sent her into a down-spiral of existential anguish not only caused but further induced by the very girl she shared a room with.
It had been a full two weeks of Pansy walking on eggshells around Ramona; slipping into the dormitory once she was already asleep, going out of her way to give her space, getting ready quietly and speaking- if she really had to - only in hushed tones.
As if stillness and quiet could cure both of them. As if silence made everything softer. Unspoken things lingered in that silence and never seemed to leave. They bit at their toes and laid in bed beside them when sleep wasn't coming. They gnawed at their insides. They ripped open their eyelids each morning. They felt heavier than the silence itself. And they threaded beside them each and every day as they left for class, side by side, much like two people who had been through a war together and had very little in common but the battle itself.
Life passed by them and they could only watch it pass.
Once her feet hit the cold ground on a lousy Wednesday morning, that familiar dread pushed against her like an invisible gust of wind, attempting to reverse her steps back to bed. Dread dressed her in her robes. Dread tied her shoelaces. Dread dragged her towards the Great Hall where she tried to push it down her throat with food that barely had any taste.
"You alright?" asked Blaise, staring at her plate and then at her, traveling between two focal points as if trying to compel her to eat. Every bite she took dissolved like waste in her mouth and she cringed when swallowing.
"Alright," she answered, picking up the sandwich under Blaise's watchful eye. Blaise had taken it upon himself to play the part of mother hen, making sure she ate at least breakfast and dinner, got enough sleep, and didn't spent most of her day in the library. When she'd fall asleep during class, he'd fold his robes and create a pillow for her head. He even got a detention from Snape for doing so once. If she appeared in a good enough mood for company, he would take her for a walk and crack jokes, even ones so desperately horrible they had to be funny. There was no denying that what happened with Pansy took its toll on him. She noticed how he'd flinch each time she'd sigh deeply.
When she couldn't, he helped Romeo with his homework. Even insisted on it. He didn't even care about people asking him why he was helping a first year Hufflepuff- very few people dared to talk to Blaise Zabini when Blaise Zabini didn't wish to be talked to.
One afternoon, he even agreed to accompany her to the Three Broomsticks to meet with Luna. The white haired witch was pleased to see him, not knowing him and Ramona were on good terms, and Blaise made no moves to stick around for long- though Ramona could see that Luna's company didn't bother him. Which was a start.
There were moments where Ramona forgot what happiness felt like. But magical Luna Lovegood that could erase clouds in the sky just by smiling. And in those moments with the two of them, she could feel it. She could feel what happiness could be like.
"Eat that," Blaise mumbled, stuffing his mouth with the third sandwich in a row, pieces of brea falling out as he spoke. Ramona scrunched up her face and pushed her plate away, much like a bratty child. Blaise commenced yet another grand speech on how her body needed fuel to recover from stress- when a white haired boy left the Great Hall just as fast as he had entered.
Draco avoided her like the plague. It was comical, really, how he would turn on his heel and disappear when in her vicinity. The lengths he went to just to keep her away from him were growing more desperate each day. It even went as far as egging Peeves on to mess with her so Draco could pass by without possibility of conversation. And paying second years to create a human shield each time he needed to go through the common room.
The dramatics of Draco Malfoy never ceased to amaze her.
"He's avoiding me too," mumbled Blaise, catching him walk in and out of the grand doors just as she did, but not commenting much further on the way his cousin's shoulders slumped as he did so.
A day full of classes was the only thing she needed to keep sane. And during class she'd focus all her attention on the professors- for there was no other way to survive a lecture full of Slytherins.
With Blaise by her side like a guard dog, not many of them tried to talk to her. If Theodore Nott as much as looked in her direction, Blaise was ready to hex the boy. Not that she minded anyway. The girls greeted her during class, but made very little effort to actually strike up a conversation. Ramona didn't like the pity she saw in their faces, so the lack of contact didn't sadden her in the slightest.
Tracy was the only one, apart from Daphne, to actually talk to her a couple of times. Ramona tired to be nice to her- but there was very little she wanted to say to Tracy and her pitiful gaze. Or any of them, really. And it wasn't their fault.
Daphne was her old self. And that annoyed Ramona even more than Tracy's pity. Ramona wasn't sure weather or not she pretended, but Daphne appeared as if the tension in their dormitory didn't exist. She'd annoy both her and Pansy from time to time, copy homework and talk about mundane things before bed, folding her clothes and gossiping like old times. Like the two girls she shared a room with didn't ignore each other's existence as best they could.
Ramona wished she possessed her carelessness- her utterly stupid and imbecilic ability to brush off anything that didn't concern her much. Soon, little annoyances turned to severe agitation. The slap-happy attitude of Daphne Greengrass made her want to throw the witch off the astronomy tower each time she'd sing or mumble when getting dressed. And each time Daphne would fold her clothes neatly on the bed she wanted to scatter them everywhere. And each time she'd ask if anything was wrong Ramona wanted to scream.
The entire day of classes passed with her eyes glued to the lecture, drinking in the things that she- inall honesty- had already studied. But she needed the distraction. And she neededto do something so obsessively she forgot she existed.
Her last class of the day was Potions- one she actually looked forward to. Snape hadn't tried to talk to her after she brought the necklace and she was glad that it was so, because there were surely very few useful things she could tell him about what she saw.
She walked into the classroom beside Blaise who, in his robe pocket, carried her half-eaten sandwich with the intent of making her eat it until the end of the day. Ramona knew it was a Sisyphean task, but allowed him to go on about the importance of food and water.
Blaise's words turned into background noise halfway into the classroom. Dread crept down Ramona's spine like a careful spider leaving a long trail of silk once she saw him there- notably absent, Draco Malfoy hadn't shown up to class in a long time. But there he sat now, empty stare focused on the wooden table before him, set apart from the ruckus of loud chatter.
Ramona made her way to her usual spot, avoiding his dust colored eyes as she did so, stomach filling with lead. If someone picked her up and dropped her into the lake, she was sure she'd sink to the bottom.
Only once did she glance back at him, careful not to be caught. But it only served to further alienate her from reality. Snape's classroom dissolved into thin air and she found herself in a solitary universe where nothing existed but her and her thoughts. In all those days of avoidance, she did not note the feelings that he brought along would set in once she was near him again. She found herself wanting to assure him that she said nothing to Dumbledore. That she said nothing to no one. That she would rather rip her tongue out than snitch on him. That she kept his secret, just as he did hers.
Ramona fiddled with the ends of her robes as she thought, picking at the soft material that all but asked to be ripped, to be torn, to be pulled apart. Secrets were made strange. Secrets weren't made of soft linen. Secrets weren't gentle on skin. They were woven with thick wool that irritated already sensitive skin, skin that had no time to thicken, skin that felt like it didn't belong on their bones, skin that hung there for decor.
A thread came undone. Ramona wrapped her fingers around it and started pulling, watching the material unravel as she pulled and pulled until a hole stared back at her, the thread stopping circulation in her finger. Secrets aren't meant to fit her like those robes. These secrets that they carried weren't meant to fit children- they were, after all, supposed to be children still- but children complained about irritated skin and itchy elbows. These children bit their tongues and lived with the itch until it burned skin off their flesh, until they were children no longer, until their skin grew back so thick that there was no sign of it once being soft.
She was always surprised by how much she could take. Even when she was a child, she would never complain. Her tongue was always safely behind her teeth when it came to things that mattered. Though those two long, dreadful weeks- something didn't sit right.
With one finger she traced her forearm; in her mind, she could feel it burning. For a brief moment, she thought that it was better that way- perhaps there was a possibility that Draco would speak. Perhaps he'd speak of the itch on his skin and the secrets that burned it too strong, perhaps he wouldn't be able to bite his tongue and he'd relieve himself, perhaps he'd tell. Perhaps he'd tell. And she wouldn't blame him. Perhaps their secrets weren't made the same and he'd choose to save his skin.
She felt like seconds were slipping through her fingertips and she was watching them go, letting them go, hoping that somehow they might heal the damage that was being done. Shefelt that maybe, after Pansy cursed her, that curse remained. It tortured herfrom the inside now, it stayed deep in her skin, and it could never leave.
Class ended fast. Not a word that came out of Snape's mouth reached her ears. And before she could gather her things and leave, Ramona felt a looming presence over her shoulder. The classroom was half empty already, though she barely noticed- she barely noticed anything but the breath hitting the back of her neck.
Pansy stood there with wide, cautious eyes as Ramona turned, both girls looking like ghosts. Unease blossomed from within her. The air seemed so brittle it could snap- no one spoke. Ramona could feel fear in her chest trying to take over- perhaps only wanting to protect her from danger, though there wasn't any. It propelled her towards unnecessary anxiety the longer their staring contest lasted.
The girl stood tall, looking at Ramona with a stern gaze, one not very friendly, but not as sorrowful as usual. She didn't make a move to say anything at first and Ramona encouraged her with a raising of her eyebrows, though her face wasn't a friendly one either. But Pansy waited until everyone was out of the room.
"I know that you hate me-" Pansy began.
"Despise you," corrected Ramona, tone as unfriendly as it could be.
"Right. Despise me. But I just need you to let me tell you something," said Pansy quietly, her voice trembling as she did.
"You've already said too much to me." Ramona crossed her arms, tucking her books safely to her chest as she watched Pansy fiddle with her fingers. She was not going to make that conversation easy for her.
"I won't try to apologize to you Ramona, because I know I have no right to do that," Pansy said, tears gathering in her eyes. She let out a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen her body movements. And it wasn't hard for Ramona to tear up as well; she hated how standing before Pansy made her feel. She hated even more how sorry she felt for her.
"Draco asked me to meet him in the room of requirement after this class," Pansy said, carefully weighing her words as she did, observing every inch of Ramona's poker face. Though as Dumbledore said- Ramona's eyes gave away her true emotion and Pansy wasn't dumb. She could see that what she said wasn't received as coldly as Ramona assumed.
"Why should I care?" said Ramona in a tone that didn't give away just how much her heart hurt to hear her say that, though Pansy could imagine. It was a decent effort on Ramona's part, just enough to fool the casual observer, but for the onlooker with a keen eye such as Pansy was, Ramona was a walking advert for tension.
She knew Draco avoided her- but... Pansy? He would screw Pansy to get over his frustrations with Ramona?
"Because whatever is going on between you two, I don't want to be a part of it," Pansy stated firmly. It shocked Ramona to hear her say that because, for a brief moment, she still suspected it was Pansy's ploy to hurt her further.
"Nothing is going on between us, so you can go ahead," Ramona said coldly, almost fooling herself, motioning for Pansy to leave the room and looked away from her and towards the window, counting the seconds until that conversation was over.
"Ramona," Pansy stressed. "I know Draco. I know him better than most. I came into the room the other night to check up on you and- and I saw you two sleeping."
"Pansy," Ramona gritted out, patience wearing thin. If her teeth were razors, they would have ripped apart her lips by then.
"I know, I know! It was a horrible thing to do, but I couldn't sleep and-"
"And what? You came along hoping I died in my sleep?" Ramona's half-comical tone did little to relieve Pansy of the dread she felt in her stomach; better yet, it doubled the guilt hearing her say it. Her fists remained clenched, cramping up, but releasing the tension from her hands made Pansy believe she would lose her center of gravity.
"I couldn't fall asleep, Ramona, I had to see that you were alive," Pansy said through tears that poured out of her black eyes and glided down her porcelain cheeks.She wasn't pretty when she cried. Her eyebrows were pulled down, lips down-turned in a clown-like fashion.
"I know you hate me but believe it or not I hate myself just as much," Pansy whispered. At her words Ramona made no comment, only looked down to hide her own tears. She had no business feeling empathic. Pansy didn't deserve that.
"You two looked so... It doesn't matter," she quickly dismissed, not wanting to press on the matter further. "What I wanted to tell you is that I don't have any interest in messing up what I assume is already a complicated thing. So I just wanted to tell you. I don't expect you to thank me or anything, I just needed to tell you."
Ramona nodded as Pansy stopped talking, wiping a tear discreetly from her eye and looking up at her. In a way, she felt sorry for Pansy. Her usually pretty face looked sunken and tired, pin straight hair strangely messy and nose red from how much she was blowing it.
"The only thing I know about Draco Malfoy is that he rejects affection. Seeing him sleeping next to you like that actually looked like... Like he could possibly care for someone other than himself. I don't know. I hope I know what you're doing. I don't want to mess you life up more than I already have."
With those words, Pansy turned on her heel and rapidly walked out of the classroom, bumping her hip on a table as she did. Her limbs carried her desperately towards the door, as if escaping that room meant escaping herself. Ramona stood in her place for only a little while longer while a gaping emptiness filled her stomach.
She knew Draco had his own reasons to avoid her. The boy was like a scared bunny once he smelled slight suspicion, let alone when he was vividly terrified. But she was very aware that whatever Pansy had seen that night as they slept was gone. That familiarity was gone. That intimacy was gone.
Making her way to the room of requirement, Ramona had next to nothing on her mind and a hurricane in her heart. She tried to construct elaborate rationalizations for why everything would turn out alright once they spoke. Though nagging voice in the back of her mind spoke of nothing but doom ahead.
Ramona's eyes moved with alertness as she crept into the familiar cluttered room- the kind of alertness that came from heavy stress and anxiety. Her hands remained clenched at her sides by subconscious demand once the door was shut behind her safely.
She did not dare move.
For there he stood. She could barely breathe in at the sight of him, not because she thought him repulsive, but because she found he thought her so.
At first unresponsive and notably absent from reality, Draco appeared to suddenly realize he was standing in front of Ramona and not Pansy, whom he had expected. At that realization, a muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth forming a rigid grimace.
"What are you doing here?"
Cold sweat glistened on his brow. He felt his insides grow warm in an unpleasant way, a colony of roaches crawling up his intestines. Ramona clenched her fists tightly, until her nails dig into the palm of her hand, but she barely noticed. The only thing she was really aware of was the futile pounding of her heart against it's cage of bone and cartilage.
Draco was always pale- but he was never that pale. His skin took a morbid hue under the dim lighting of the room and if he stood still for longer than a moment, Ramona would have sworn she was seeing a ghost.
"Did you really want to shag Pansy?" She could not stop herself from asking that question. As if that was the thing that mattered. As if those were the first words she wanted to utter. As if that was the only thing on her possessive mind. At first, she tried to mask the anger in her voice as she said it. Seeing him there, exhaustion on his face growing like weeds on pavement, there was little that could keep her from calm. His pain became hers.
"What's it to you?" Draco said, not able to look her in the eye. Her gaze was steady as if she was shopping for shoes, casual with no hint of hesitation. He hated that gaze and how it undressed him, how it peeled back his sickly skin from aching bones to reveal he was just as ugly from the inside.
"You know what it is to me."
"And why would you think I care?" His words were cruel and sharp, and he intended them as such. He wanted to cut through her with a blunt blade until her knees hit the ground. He wanted her tears. He wanted her anger. He wanted her to dissolve into thin air from it. He wanted to ruin her.
One large, unhesitating step towards her had Draco's neck knotted with tension. She watched with saucer eyes as he morphed into something inhuman, so monstrous she did not believe it true. Glacier eyes. Cold eyes.
He was only two steps apart from her now- two steps stretching out as a bleak landscape of hatred that neither dared cross first. Ramona hugged herself with hands that were pinching her skin. Once she released them, she couldn't figure out what to do with them. She clasped and unclasped them as if needing touch as reassurance that she was still alive. Draco only observed her, almost flinching once she looked back at him.
"Did you want to fuck Pansy because she is Pansy, or because you want a fuck?" she asked him, carefully emphasizing each word.
"Is that jealousy?" taunted Draco, caving in at the provocation and closing the distance between their feet, leaning his hand above the door, right above her. His words stuck to her skin like leeches.
"I didn't think you were the jealous type," he continued, rising one finger and twisting a curl around it, letting it fall over her eyes. His face was split with a sly grin, one of both malice and amusement. Her eyes were drawn, stupidly, to his bicep, which flexed as his arm moved.
"Does it bother you? The thought of me deep inside Pansy?" His words turned to whispers. Ramona showed no conscious reaction to his words but her fingers were trembling, betraying her.
"Does it make you angry when you think of me touching Pansy like this?" His intent was brought to life once his hand slowly stroked up her leg and towards her thigh, long fingers stretching to squeeze the soft flesh until it hurt. He caressed her hips and her ribs and barely skimmed over her breasts, her body reacting stupidly, moronically to his touch.
He didn't pretend not to notice- no, he enjoyed it. He wanted to see her react to him the way she did. He wanted to see the control he had over her. He wanted to see that he could play her just as she could play him.
"Face it, Mona," her nickname rolling off his tongue like a curse, "You can't stand the thought of sharing me."
Ramona leaned her head backward so that it rested against the door, looking directly into his droopy eyes.
"Can't I?" she taunted.
"You can't. And that makes you even more pathetic than I thought."
His posture changed with those words. His shoulders squared. Draco reset his jaw and leaned away from her, bodies close enough to touch but a breath of air between them. Withdrawing his touch completely, Draco's revolted gaze settled upon her face.
"You need to stop it," he orders.
"Stop what?"
"Stop this," he repeats, as if she knows what he is saying. He then leans away and spins away from her, hands running down his face.
"I-"
"Just shut up," he spits. "Can you do that? Are you capable of shutting it for once?" He was practically shouting. The veins in his neck protruded as he struggled with himself, walking away as if it could rid him of her lingering touch.
Ramona bit her lips. She was drawing blood without realizing it.
She was like heroin. He couldn't stop. He couldn't breathe in without smelling her, even across the room.
"You poisonous, wretched, repugnant girl," he growled out. The words vibrated in his chest and spread through her body like a shot of whiskey- making her recoil, shiver, flinch.
"Crawling under my skin like a pest," he mumbled, "A leech. A parasite."
Ramona watched him unravel. He was struggling with himself, folding and unfolding his hands like he didn't know what to do with them. Draco felt like his insides were coming apart from being near her.
"And you want to know what's even more pathetic?" he rambled.
Thinking it was best for him to let it all out, Ramona stayed silent as the night. She only observed as he drowned on solid ground, lungs hurting just as his did. Heart hurting just as his did.
"Do you? Because I do," he breathed out. He looked defeated, and by his worst enemy at that- himself.
People can grow strong enough to whisper at the iron bars that hold them, get them to bend the way they want them to bend, open them just enough to crawl out of the cage. Draco was not one of those people. He was the one bending.
"I can't stand the thought of sharing you, either." His whisper echoed in the empty space. Ramona's heartbeat filled the room.
And his lips were against hers.
She barely blinked and his lips were against hers. Rough, cold lips pressed against hers aggressively, leaving no room for air.
"Stop it," he groaned out against her and pulled her closer once she tried to peel herself away from him, hands gripping her hips so harshly she was sure he'd pierce her skin. She was sure his fingers were digging into her bone and penetrating her flesh, drawing blood, but he didn't care. He wanted it to hurt.
"Foul girl," he mumbled as he bit her lips, bit her tongue, bit her neck and jaw and gripped onto her so hard she was almost shouting from pain.
"Draco," she uttered, but his touch never softened. As if his name on her lips destroyed him even more. His name on her lips made him want to hurt her, to make her feel the same pain he did.
Gripping the sides of her head, Draco peeled his lips from hers, holding her head in place as he stared at her. Ramona did nothing but stare back. She knew better than to speak when he looked at her like that. It was as if she was shrinking before him, as if he loomed and grew in size with each passing moment as an animalistic sneer contorted his face.
"I want to hurt you," he whispered. "I want to hurt you so bad."
"Then hurt me," she said. Draco stared at her, still as the air around them. Ramona was dead serious, though not completely aware of the effect her words had on him.
"Hurt me, Draco. I can handle you."
"You can't."
"Yes, I can," she assured him, though her voice was more angry than anything. "Show me. Show me what you want to do to me," she taunted him.
"Don't do that," Draco said, tortured voice barely audible.
"Do what? Come on. Show me what you want to do to me."
Draco's hand found her neck once more. His fingers wove into her hair, gripping it at the back of her neck, bringing her face closer to his. She could feel his hot breath on her lips.
"You're afraid of me," she spat at him. "And that makes you so pathetic you can't stand it."
In that moment, she carefully threaded her words to get him to lose any control he had over himself. He was falling apart and she was going to shatter him completely; because there was no other way for that man to cope. He needed to lose it, he was holding too much inside. He needed an outlet- and she was going to be it.
He squeezed her neck even more. Her chest heaved at the loss of air and he only stared down at her, eyes blank, dead stare.
"But I'm not," she wheezed out. "I'm not afraid of you."
There was no more room for words. Teeth clashing, tongue biting, neither of them stopping to catch their breath. When Draco tasted her skin properly, licking and sucking down her neck, any willpower that he was grasping vanished. He completely let himself be engulfed by her. He set on fire everywhere he touched and Ramona could barely contain herself, even fully dressed, from wanting him as close as humanly possible.
Draco caged her between the wall and himself, pressing against her, touching every piece of skin he could get his hands on. It was frantic, messy and he kept biting her tongue. It was sloppy, angry and desperate.
Each time Ramona's hands would reach out to touch him, Draco would pin them back against the wall. Each time she'd move towards him, he'd push her back. His fingers were all over her skin, as if touching every part of her at once.
"Draco," she breathed.
"Quiet," he'd hiss against her lips as she moaned, "Just be quiet."
She wasn't sure when her shirt had gone missing, only that he was not patient enough to undo the buttons. He ripped her oxford shirt apart, sending the buttons flying everywhere. She wasn't sure about her pants, either, they just vanished. Taking her clothes off so frantically, Draco could barely wait for her to take off his, so he pushed her hands away and barely took off his shirt fast enough to keep kissing her.
The overwhelming desire to show her her place consumed him so blindly he could barely contain himself. There was no piece of skin left that he hadn't bitten or licked by the time she was fully naked before him.
There was only one moment. Only one moment where he stopped for air and looked at her, blue eyes desperately searching hers for permission, seeking confirmation that what he was about to do was something she wanted as well.
She took one small moment of his hesitation as a sign that she could take things her way- have him where she wanted him. To give him what he needed. Dropping to her knees, Ramona's lips were suddenly around him. He watched her, breathless, mesmerized, consumed by pleasure. Her tongue worked in ways that made his eyes roll in the back of his head, pulling onto her hair. Draco tried to move, but it felt as if his body was tied down by invisible threads as she worked her mouth. He felt himself growing big and hard inside her mouth.
But that wasn't what he wanted. And he didn't care if it was what she did.
Draco gripped her hair and pulled her up from her knees, pushing her away from him and against the wall roughly. Ramona bounced off the wall and smacked right back into him, though he wasted no time in pinning her back against it, naked breasts pressing against the cold surface as he positioned himself at her entrance. Ramona arched her back slightly to give him easier access and he plunged two fingers deep into her, feeling how wet she was. How ready she was.
And knowing how much she wanted him, fingers dripping with her juices, he wanted her even more.
"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted, but gave her no time to respond. "Do you want to know all the dirty, depraved things I thought of doing to you?"
Draco wasn't gentle. There was no foreplay, no time to prepare her for what he wanted to do to her. He wasn't trying to be gentle. He pushed himself inside her with one rough motion, knocking all air out of her lungs and stretching her out painfully.
He watched her struggling to adjust to him, breathing out in pain as his thrusts grew faster. She was panting and wiggling beneath him as she attempted to get accustomed, and it nearly finished him then and there. The burn made her clench and grit her teeth to keep from crying out as he rocked into her.
"Is this how you imagined it? Is this how you wanted me?"
He was slapping her ass and squeezing her breasts and he fucked her until she couldn't catch her breath, until he could see tears forming in her eyes, until she felt like she was going to collapse. He fucked her until she was barely breathing, hand around her neck cutting off her circulation, the cold of his rings stinging.
"Can you handle it, Ramona? Can you handle being treated like the bitch you are?"
Not sure weather or not she passed out at some point, Ramona couldn't recognize her surroundings for a few moments. She wasn't even sure weather what she was experiencing was pleasure or pain, intense aches coming from all over, cold nipping at her skin, still sensitive from all the places he bit and slapped.
Draco's climax came violently. He was grunting in her ear and she wanted to scream as his thrusts quickened, pushing inside her at an inhuman speed. The only thing she was aware of were the tears on her cheeks. He was careful not to come inside her, no matter how much he wanted to.
And just as his climax came, his touch disappeared.
Ramona gripped the wall in front of her, mind foggy, barely standing on her own two feet. She leaned her forehead against the cold surface, coughing out from the lack of oxygen. She wasn't sure weather she was trembling from him or from the cold, but the inside of her stomach felt ripped apart. Her thighs felt raw. Her ass stung. By the time she turned around to look at him, he was already dressed.
Draco Malfoy's satisfied smirk grew wider as he observed her, standing naked by the wall, trying to regain her senses.
"So you can be quiet."