Knowledge and Obsession

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Story Notes:

Another attempt to break writer’s block. You’ll probably be seeing quite a few of these odd little attempts in the upcoming days/weeks. Heh. *keeps trying*
For eliminate’s request in a poll awhile ago. This one is really quite odd, but I hope you like it at least a little, hon! b29;

Originally Posted: January 3, 2007

When the whispers of a traitor in their midst began, Ginny felt their eyes on her. She was possessed by You Know Who. It must be her. She’s too volatile and unstable. She’s betraying us because Potter left her. The whispers followed her until it became easier to just hide away and watch. Looking back, she wondered how so many people missed the truth. They were so focused on her that they never realized the true danger.

She did, though.

Others misjudged the thirst for knowledge, found it commendable and spoke of ‘the brightest witch of our age’. They never noticed the line being crossed between knowledge and obsession. They didn’t see the manipulation when it began, didn’t notice the increasing darkness to the spells aiding their side, and didn’t realize that their encouragement and praise meant there would be no turning back. Had Dumbledore noticed the signs before his death? Surely he’d have remembered another exceptionally bright student who wanted power and knowledge and didn’t even let death stop him.

When Hermione changed sides, Ginny knew. After all, there was little more to do in those days than watch people, and Hermione had always been the one she liked to watch the most, even more than Harry, because Hermione was different. She was fascinating in a way that always drew Ginny's attention, even when it had been childish admiration. Instead of telling anyone when she began to realize what was happening, she remained quiet. With that simple act of silence, she, too, crossed a line. The whispers about her alleged betrayal began to amuse her as she watched Hermione play them all. There was no longer ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ to Ginny; there was simply Hermione. Wherever she went, Ginny would follow.

And she did.

She followed Her through the house they used as headquarters for the Order. She followed Her into dark corners where brown eyes had shrewdly stared at her before lips had bruised hers and hands had slid into her knickers. She followed Her into dark rooms and willing knelt at Her feet, worshiping Her with her tongue and hands until she was rewarded with sweet sighs and low moans of pleasures. She followed Her into battle, obeying every instruction as their fellow Order members fell to curses and breathed their last breaths, watching as the green light faded from her own wand. She followed Her into a castle that was more beautiful than anything she’d ever imagined and bowed to a man who haunted her nightmares and rested on the floor at Her feet, happy in a way she’d craved since she was a young girl with childish dreams.

It was difficult now to think of Before. Ginny rarely remembered how things used to be, though there were random images of a family that she loved and a boy with messy hair that always had a smile on his face, even at the end when it was finally time to stop fighting. Whenever she had particularly pleased Her, she was given permission to see the members of her family who had survived. Those visits were a gift, and they always made Ginny think of summer sun and lazy afternoons full of laughter, but that wasn’t her life now. Now, it was even better.

The feel of a blade pressed against her breast caused Ginny to focus on Her, looking up into shrewd brown eyes as the knife moved over her nipple. There was laughter, shrill and husky and knowing, but Ginny ignored That Woman to focus on Her. There was no one else in her world, after all, so nothing else mattered. Red fingernails moved along Her breasts and the once pretty face of That Woman peered at her from over Her shoulder, but Ginny didn’t disobey Her by looking away. Instead, she moaned and enjoyed the scrape of lace against her wrists and ankles as she struggled to feel more of Her blade. Red fingernails disappeared into Her cunt, stroking wet slick skin as the blade pressed down harder.

Ginny trusted Her, though, and knew that she was always safe with Her. The blade cut her lightly, and she whined when she felt fingers thrust into her hard, twisting and turning in a way that made her writhe for more. She watched Her move Her hand harder inside Ginny, all the while rolling Her hips to press against That Woman’s hand. There was a smug smile on Ginny's face when she saw Her push away That Woman, kissing her violently with teeth that left lips bleeding before Her attention was once again focused on Ginny, where it belonged. She leaned up to lick Her cunt when it straddled her face and felt the knife continue to move against her skin. She savored the salty sweet taste of Her and felt contentment spread over her.

Others had underestimated Hermione, but Ginny never had. She knew about the line between knowledge and obsession. After all, she’d crossed it herself long ago.