"That's it, my darling. Don't fight it," he whispered, his eyes eagerly soaking in the waves of pleasure exposed on your face.
[ON GOING][MATURE 18+] (Y/N) is the American witch transferring to Hogwarts for her 7th year of schooling. Fate will have...
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Three weeks had gone by since the day of the party. It was now the beginning of August which meant you were that much closer to leaving for Hogwarts, a thought that constantly ate away at the back of your mind.
Although the worst hadn't happened to you the night you were drugged, you seemed to never fully recover from it despite having no memory of it. As if to prevent yourself from trying too hard to remember anything that happened that night, your mind opted to sort of shut down and go numb. You found very little will to do anything.
Much to your parents dismay, you spent most of your days lounging in the pool or being holed up in your bedroom. They didn't understand why you didn't want to make an effort to go to Diagon Alley to meet your future classmates or why you didn't want to stop by the Malfoy's.
Ever since the day after the party, you've been too ashamed to show yourself to the Malfoy's, especially the one named Draco. You learned that the guy who caught you lurking outside his home was Draco Malfoy, the very same one to save you that horrid night.
The day you found him watching you playing the piano, he expressed something that told you all you needed to know. Though he originally looked expressionless when you made eye contact, it wasn't until he abruptly turned to leave just as you had opened your mouth to call out to him that you clearly saw a look of utter disgust on his face.
No, you couldn't find the guts to thank him in person. You settled on sending him an owl which had returned with no response. It wasn't long after you heard your father shouting in anger about Lucius Malfoy being sent to Azkaban for being a death eater that you dropped all desire to associate with the Malfoy's. They were supporters of you-know-who and you clearly weren't anti-no-maj. Guess you would just take your chances and hope to make friends at school if you were lucky enough.
"Enough with your moping, (Y/n)!" Your mother said from across the large dining room table that held an array of breakfast foods, your father sitting at the head of the table reading the Daily Prophet.
"I'm not moping, mother."
Your father sighed as he closed the Daily Prophet and placed it impatiently on to the table. "We understand what you went through was vile and horrible. We do."
"But you can't stay hidden away forever," your mother continued. "You'll be off to Hogwarts soon and I can't stand the thought of you being holed up in your dorm room for the rest of the year."
You silently picked at your eggs with your fork. You didn't understand what the big deal was. You weren't out partying or gambling your father's money away. There were so many other horrible things you could be doing other than locking yourself in your room and watching no-maj films.
"We've invited someone over to help you with your school shopping," your mother stated.
Your fork fell loudly on the glass table as you looked up at your mother with wide eyes.
