[HP fic] Untitled, Ginny/Tom Riddle
Aug. 1st, 2007 09:11 pmFor this freedom
I have given all I had
For this darkness
I gave my light
For this wisdom
I have lost my innocence
Take my petals
And cover me with the night
~"Rose Red", Emilie Autumn
Author: Faeline
Title: Untitled
Time: Harry Potter at Hogwart's Years
Genre: AU - Unknown Timeline
Characters: Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley
Rating: Teen
"Untitled"
He detached himself from the darkness, caught her unaware.
Head ringing she had no time to push off the wall before he was on her, left hand holding both her wrists above her head, flesh scraping raw against the brick. With every struggle his grip tightened, until she felt the bones in her wrist grind together.
"Let go! You're hurting me."
"Then stop struggling," he said into her ear, voice stirring the delicate hairs in that area, breath warm against the shell of her ear. The point of his tongue darted out, swept down the curve of cartilage, and his teeth clamped just this side of too hard on the tender lobe. "Though I must admit, the struggle is...exciting."
That last word came out in a hiss and she twisted her body against him, trying to bring her feet against the wall for leverage. He pushed a knee between her legs, lifted, threw her off balance. She thought she saw a flash of red in his gaze.
Then his lips were on her neck, firebrand hot and she jerked involuntarily, head colliding with the wall and sending star bursts of pain through her eyes. His lips, tongue, teeth she felt them all individually testing the flesh of her throat, moving toward her shoulder and progressing from the teasing, tempting bites to sharper nips. When he reached the curve where neck met shoulder, he bit down. Hard.
She let out an explosive breath of air in place of a scream and felt something wet trickle down her skin; surely he'd drawn blood. His tongue laved over the bite, fever hot and stinging against the rawness of her skin, tracing intricate patterns that she tried to mentally follow and couldn't.
Without warning he stepped away and she slipped down the wall, her legs unable to hold her weight.
She didn't look up at him. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy as a winter cloak.
"I'm not one to fool with, you understand?" He knelt. The tip of his wand came under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. She thought she could see the faintest ring of red around the irises. "Go near him again," he said, "and I'll kill him."
In the next moment he was gone.
Five, ten minutes had passed before she was able to pull herself off the floor and make her way back to her dorm, sticking close to the shadows in the most unused of passages to avoid running into any other student.
She walked straight through her bedroom and into the bathroom, started the shower running before she turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were large and dark against skin that seemed paler than usual. Her hair stood out, vibrant russet red around her face. She pulled at the strands, moved to pile them atop her head for her shower and she saw it.
On the right side of her throat, in the taught curve where neck met shoulder, a ring of teeth marks. A near perfect circle imprinted on her skin. And in the center of that circle, a tracing of letters infused with so much blood they were nearly violet: TMR.