Chapter 5 - Ginny's Games (commissioned by ArizonaIceT666)

Gryffindor had won!

Hermione was delighted. It wasn’t just because a win meant that Gryffindor still was in the running for the Quidditch Cup. It was also because Ginny Weasley had caught the Snitch from right under the Hufflepuff Seeker’s nose. It was a fantastic moment for Ginny, who desperately needed a boost. Thanks to rumors spread by Slytherins, half of the school thought she was a bit easy. Now she had reminded them that she was first and foremost an exceptionally talented witch and flier.

Which was why this was also a fantastic moment for witches and women everywhere. The whole school had seen a girl triumph and lift her entire team up on her back. Ginny’s victory would do a tremendous amount to improve the status of female students in the school and respect for women in general.

Gryffindor was partying, of course. The common room was overflowing with butterbeer and food from the kitchens. Boys and girls were mingling, far too much for Hermione to approve. Lavender Brown had made out with three different boys. Romilda Vane was sitting on some guy’s lap. 

She shoved Cormac McLaggen away again—the prat had put his hands on her waist and tried to make her dance for the third time—and looked for Ginny. Surprisingly, the star of the show was missing.

“No, Cormac,” she snapped when she felt his hands on her ass again. “I’m going to look for Ginny. Have you seen her?”

He shrugged. In a moment, he had Lavender Brown wrapped up in his arms, giggling and simpering. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked out of the common room, pushing past the mingling crowd.

Where was Ginny?



“OH! I THINK SHE’S SPOTTED THE SNITCH!”

Ginny sat on a stool outside the Potions room, waiting to be called in. She was replaying the last moments of the Quidditch match over and over in her head.

“THE OTHER SEEKER IS RIGHT BEHIND HER! OH, WHAT A DIVE! THIS IS GOING TO BE CLOSE!”

All she had to do was pull up a second earlier. Then none of this would be happening.

“OH! THEY CRASHED! WAIT, I THINK SHE’S GOT THE SNITCH! WHAT HAPPENED?!”

The door opened. “The boss’ll see you now,” Goyle said.

Ginny stood up and smoothed down her skirt, her mind echoing with memories of the horror of clutching the Snitch in one hand, and the splinters of the Nimbus 2002 that none other than Draco Malfoy had lent her for the match.

“GINNY’S SAFE! BUT I THINK THAT BROOM IS GONE FOR GOOD!”



Draco was taking his time.

“That broom was expensive,” he drawled. “Very expensive. My father won’t be pleased to hear that it’s been destroyed.”

Ginny could tell he was enjoying this. She loathed how he was enjoying this.

“He’ll want to know what happened. What am I going to tell him? That the Weasley family slut crashed it?”

“It…it was an accident! I said I was sorry”

“That broom cost a thousand Galleons,” Malfoy said. “I don’t care how many times you say sorry. How are you going to pay that back?”

Ginny couldn’t believe how much the broom cost. Malfoy’s dad had bought dozens of them. Just how rich were they?

“I don’t have that kind of money,” Ginny admitted. 

“I know you don’t,” Malfoy sneered. “You’re a Weasley, you can’t even afford new textbooks. The only reason you don’t wear hand-me-down clothes is because you’re the only girl in your family of blood traitors.

“Don’t make fun of my family, Malfoy.”

“Or what? Who’s going to tell them they’re a thousand Galleons in debt to a Malfoy? Want me to write a letter to the Ministry of Debt right now? My father’s right-hand-man is in charge of it, you know.”

“No!” Ginny said quickly. “Don’t do that.”

“Sounds like I can make fun of your family, Weasley. How about I pay you for it? One insult, one Knut.” 

“A Knut?” she protested. “My dignity’s not for sale, Malfoy!”

“You’re giving it away for free, then?”

“N-no, but a Knut is….”

“Too little?”

“I didn’t say that!”

He tossed a Sickle at her. It bounced off her forehead and into her lap. She glared at him while he smirked. “Slag.”

“Malfoy—”

Another Sickle glanced off her cheek. “Whore.”

“You—”

A Sickle hit her on the tip of her nose. “Cunt.”

Her fists balled. “Malfoy!”

“What, you don’t think a Sickle is enough either?”

“My dignity doesn’t have a price, you git!”

“Fine, then give me the Sickles back.”

She looked down at the three Sickles in her lap. Even aside from her sudden debt to him, the money was tempting. Her family was poor. She’d never had any pocket money growing up. “Well, you already insulted me for these, so….”

He balanced another coin on his thumb. “So we’re in business?” he smirked.

“We’re not!” she said hotly.

“We are,” he said. “Because you owe me a thousand Galleons, and you’re not going to earn it by talking back.”

“Sickles aren’t going to get me there either!”

“Okay. What are you willing to do for a Galleon?”

She hesitated. “An insult for a Galleon is fine, I guess.”

“I thought your dignity wasn’t for sale, Weasley?”

“It doesn’t cost any dignity to be insulted by a prick like you!”

“But I want to buy your dignity. Come on, redhead, make me an offer worth a Galleon.”

“One insult, one Galleon,” she offered.

“Nope,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Not good enough. Why would I pay a whole Galleon to insult a Weasley?”

“B-because….”

Draco had an idea. “I’ll pay a Galleon for you to insult a Weasley.”

“W…what?”

He placed a gold coin in her open mouth before she could close her lips together. “I’ll pay you to use this tongue to please me.”

She spat it out onto her hand furiously. “What are you talking about?”

“Call yourself a whore, Weasley, or give me that Galleon back.”

Ginny looked down at the Galleon. She really needed it….

But no. No way. She couldn’t do this. Not for Draco fucking Malfoy. Nothing was worth as much as her dignity. He couldn’t seriously force her to pay him back for the broom, could he? The Malfoys owned elves and half the Ministry. It didn’t seem far-fetched for them to own a girl as well.

The idea that she might end up in his power, working as his servant, appalled her. She had to end this now, before he wrote to his father.

“I’m a whore,” she mumbled, her face turning as red as her hair.

“Good girl. You earned that coin. Want another?”

Embarrassed, Ginny shook her head. But Malfoy waved another Galleon in front of her. “You sure? Only 999 more to go. Your family is poor as fuck. Say it.”

She hated him.

“My family is poor, Malfoy,” she ground out.

“Nope. Your family is poor as fuck. Your family is so poor their daughter gets fucked to afford a broomstick to fly on. Say it.”

Ginny struggled with herself for a moment. “My family is poor as fuck.”

“That’s not what I told you to say, dumbass.”

“My…my family is so poor their daughter gets fucked to afford a broomstick to fly on. That isn’t true though!”

“Good girl.” He pushed the Galleon toward her lips. She grabbed it angrily. “Now say that girls always lose at Quidditch.”

Her brown eyes flashed. “I could outfly you any day.”

“You’re a real pro at riding wood. Now say it. Girls always lose at Quidditch.”

She glared. “No.”

“You’ve got a lot of Galleons to go. Going to get a part-time job stripping at the Three Broomsticks?”

“They don’t do that there!”

“So it's an open market for you then. Get up and shake your ass for the drunks. I’ll help you work on your technique.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, doing her best to act as if that image didn’t bother her at all. “As if.”

“You’ve got until the end of the school year to pay me back. You could become some dumb little stripper. Or just amuse me.” He ran a Galleon through his fingers. “Say that Hermione Granger is a retarded whore.”

“I won’t!”

“Luna is a cockgobbling slut?”

“No!”

He shrugged. “You’re going to be dancing on a lot of poles. Better start practicing on whatever cheap, shitty broom you have.”

Ginny squirmed. “I can get a summer job, and….”

“You’ll be lucky to make five Galleons a month by waiting tables. Unless you’re planning to take wealthy customers into the back to do extra work for their tips.”

“Ew.”

“Or you can say that girls have no place on the Quidditch field, and your best friend Draco Malfoy will give you a nice shiny Galleon right now.”

Just say it, Ginny told herself. It’s not real, it doesn’t mean anything. Just get it out and take the money.

Instead, she flung the coins in its face.

Draco just seemed amused as he brushed Sickles and Galleons off his robes. “Fine, your mouth isn’t for sale. What about the rest of your body?”

“Shut up before I hex you.”

“Very well, I won’t speak. I’ll just write. Dear Father, a Gryffindor with more tits than brains destroyed that wonderful expensive broom you bought me—”

“I understand,” Ginny said miserably. 

“You’ve got to do something to pay this debt off, girl.”

“How about a duel?” Ginny said hopefully. “If I win, the debt’s repaid. If you win, I…I’ll go a date with you.” No way could Malfoy beat her at wandwork.

He chuckled. “A duel to settle a bet? No thanks, that’s barbaric. But a contest sounds reasonable. I’ll let you win the Galleons back. You just need to prove your courage, like a good little Gryffindor.”

“What kind of contest?” Ginny asked suspiciously.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. I’ll think of something.”

Ginny knew Draco was up to something. But she also knew that she was up to any challenge he could come up with. She couldn’t wait to wipe the sneer off of his face.



The game just had to take place in the Slytherin common room.

“We could do it in the Great Hall instead,” Malfoy said when she voiced her objection. “Everyone could watch.”

That shut her up.

It felt like everyone was watching anyway. Ginny was the only Gryffindor in the room. There were at least fifty Slytherins here, most of them boys, some of them girls wearing very catty smiles. Ginny had flown higher than almost any witch at Hogwarts. They wanted to see her come crashing down.

“Nervous, Weasley?” Draco smirked. “Nerves getting to you already?”

“Hardly,” she shot back, shivering only slightly.

The game turned out to be very simple. There was a table in the center of a room that she was to put her hands down flat on top of and keep them there. That was it. 

Simple, right?

There was one wrinkle. Anyone could pay to “use” her for five minutes. Paying meant putting down a Galleon on top of each of her hands, two Galleons total. If she was able to hold still so that the Galleons stayed in place, they were hers to keep. If she moved and they fell off the backs of her hands, she lost the coins. A simple magically enchanted sandglass on the table kept the time.

“No way!” Ginny said when she heard the rules of the game. “I’m not stupid!”

“A thousand Galleons of debt says you are pretty stupid,” Draco sneered. “But don’t worry, no one’s going to fuck you. This is a test of courage, not an auction for your holes. You’re going to show that you’re a real Gryffindor tonight.”

So the rule was that they could make physical contact with her, but not fuck her. They could poke, tickle, try to scare or spook her into jumping, but they couldn’t shove her off-balance or anything cheap like that to dislodge the Galleons balancing on the backs of her hands. It was a test of nerves. Anyone brave enough could triumph.

Ginny walked to the center of the room, hotly aware of a hundred eyes on her, and placed her hands down flat on the plain wooden table. She had to bend over slightly to do so, her butt pushed out and the contours of her breasts through her top more displayed than she would have liked, especially in front of a bunch of Slytherins.

“Let’s get this over with!” she said, only a hint of a waver in her voice. “Who’s first?”

“Hm,” Draco said. “This setup isn’t quite complete. Courage shines brightest in the darkness, so to really test your bravery, we should see how well you perform when the lights are out.”

Ginny turned her head suspiciously as he moved behind her. “What are you….” 

He placed a Galleon on the back of each of her hands and turned over the sandglass. “Keep those hands in place, ballbreath.”

“You are such a dick.”

She felt his hands linger over her shoulders, fingers close to her neck. He seized the crimson-and-gold-striped tie under her collar and tugged it out before she could stop him. “Hold still,” he reminded her. “The game starts now.”

He wrapped the tie around her eyes and knotted it behind her head. Ginny was surrounded by darkness. Immediately Draco’s hands on her felt a million times more intense. She squirmed, resisting the temptation to pull away. That would cost her the Galleons, and she really couldn’t afford to lose Galleons.

She felt his hands lightly press against her hips. Immediately she pushed up and away on her toes, trying to pull away without lifting her hands off the table. But there was nowhere to go. She squirmed and ground her teeth in frustration as he simply tugged her back down onto her heels without much effort. Her sheer loathing for him, combined with the sense of being helpless, vulnerable, and very much desired by a lot of boys who did not have a great deal of respect for her or her boundaries, pulsed through her skin in a way that made her tremble. She just hoped no one could see it.

“Shaking already?” he murmured in her ear. Ginny twitched violently, leaning her head away from his mouth. It wasn’t just creepy having him touch her and whisper so closely. The fact that she couldn’t see anything meant everything came as a surprise! 

“Just finish already,” she hissed back at him.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Weasley, it’s going to take me longer than a minute.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I’m not your father, either. Is that how you earn your allowance? Begging him to finish?”

“Shut up, Malfoy!”

He slid his hands up her hips, up her sides. She had to fight every instinct not to whirl around and shive him away as his fingers slid up her ribs, barely brushing against the sides of her breasts by her armpits as he reached her shoulders and began massaging them!

“Shhh, relax,” he murmured in her ear again. She could hear the smirk in his voice as she jerked again to get away from his lips, nearly losing the coins in the process. “This is going to be a long night for you. If you don’t calm down a little, you won’t be able to last.”

“I thought you were supposed to try to scare me!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were enjoying this so much.” 

“I wasn’t—mmg!”

She felt him grab her hair and tug her head back to raise her chin up. Then he began stroking his fingers through her hair, running them through the lengths of her hair all the way to the ends that normally brushed against her back while she walked. 

“What was that sound?” Draco said. Merlin, why did his voice sound like it was coming out of a smirking mouth?

“I didn’t make a sound!”

“No? ”

She felt him press closer to her. His hips were up against her butt, or a little higher, actually. So it was his crotch that was actually easing up against her. His hands released her hair, instead sliding up the hem of her gray jumper to rest against her waist, only her thin white collared shirt separating his fingers from her naked skin. Now he was massaging around the sides of her hip bone while something firm squeezed against her ass through her skirt.

“That better be your wand, Malfoy!”

“Put your hand on it and find out.”

Ginny shook her head and growled in frustration. Her wrists tingled with anticipation and nerves. She wanted so badly to whirl around and slap his face off, but she needed the Galleons. This was the best chance she was ever going to get to escape this debt. She wouldn’t let him bait her into giving up! 

It burned so bad to have to just stand here and let him mess with her. All of the anger, frustration, tension, nerves, and the constant need to remind herself not to move her hands was filling up inside her body and had absolutely nowhere to go, no way she could channel it other than by rubbing her ass back against his crotch. And she definitely wasn’t going to do that.

He tugged up her jumper above her navel, exposing the white of her shirt. “There’s a good girl. You’re doing such a good job of keeping your hands on the table just like you’re supposed to.”

“Stop praising me!”

“Why should I? There’s so much to compliment. Your body is nice to look at and even better to touch. Your hair is silky and made for pulling. The only thing not to like about you is your bitchy attitude. And honestly, I’m even having fun with your fake little tough-girl act while you’re stuck in this position.”

Ginny felt his thumbs slip inside the hem of her skirt. No! No way was she going to let him take her skirt off in the Slytherin common room! She immediately began wriggling her ass from side to side, trying to break his grip. He was just as fast to press his crotch up against her butt again, enjoying the feeling of Ginny moving and grinding against him. 

“There’s a good girl, like I said. Keep moving like this and you can keep your skirt.”

Ginny wanted to scream with anger. Faced with the choice of either grinding her ass against Malfoy’s crotch or letting him pull her skirt down in front of fifty Slytherins, she almost preferred the latter option. But she gave in, moving her ass around in a manner that she had to assume was pleasing to him, because the bulge in his crotch suddenly seemed bigger and more firm, and was pressing up against her rear more insistently. 

At least it helped her deal with some of her pent-up nerves. She had to move her body anyway, so she channeled her frustration into bumping her ass against his crotch. She had to be careful not to dislodge the coins on her hands with any sudden movements.

It had to have been five minutes by now, right? Unless that had been a trick. She should have checked the sandglass to make sure the enchantment worked the way they said. What if it never ran out? Malfoy would mess with her for half an hour and take the coins away if she objected.

Ginny panicked when she had that thought. She wasn’t sure what to do. All the additional frustration, worry, and impotent anger had to go somewhere. Hands planted firmly on the table, not letting them move an inch, she worked her ass around on Malfoy’s hard, bulging crotch like she really had gotten a job stripping at the Three Broomsticks.

“See?” Draco said, his voice raised as if to address the crowd. “I told you she was into it.”

Ginny cursed. She’d forgotten about all of the Slytherin boys watching thanks to the blindfold. She slowed down her motions immediately, but Draco had already proven his point. She clenched her jaw silently as his hands slid up her stomach, over her shirt but under her jumper, until she could feel the round of each of his hands between his thumb and index finger cupping up under her breasts.

“Draco!” she snapped as quietly as she could. “You can’t touch me there!”

“Funny, I seem to be able to. You could push my hands away with your own, of course. It’d only cost you two Galleons. Two Galleons to keep your dignity.”

Her fingertips gripped the surface of the table. She would not let his taunts get to her.

“Well, if I have your permission, then….”

“Wait!” she said quickly. “If you do it, they’ll all want to!”

He snickered. “Relax, no one will be able to tell what I’m doing under your jumper.”

Ginny doubted that very much, but she was out of objections and out of financial alternatives. 
She tensed her abs as she felt one hand creep up and his fingers wrap around her right breast through her shirt and bra. His other hand stroked her hip.

“That’s one. You could move one hand and push mine away. You’d only lose one Galleon that way. One Galleon to keep my hand off your tit, Weasley.”

“No way!”

“If you insist.”

His left hand slid back under her jump and up to her left breast. Soon both were encircled by his fingers while Ginny, steam all but pouring out of her ears, fought desperately not to move her hands. 

It was a struggle. Her whole body was trembling from a combination of anger, humiliation, and, ironically, trying too hard to hold still so as not to lose the Galleons. 

Didn’t they say that snakes could only sense motion? But this snake was already coiled around her. Just holding still wasn’t going to be enough to survive.

His fingertips pinched around her nipples. Ginny opened her mouth to make a noise and barely held it back in time, turning it into a sort of half-grunting gasp that she knew wouldn’t fool Draco. The five minutes had to be up! It had to be!

He teased and toyed with her nipples for what felt like hours, not seconds. His fingers rotated around them, the light grip he had on them twisting them just enough for her legs to quiver and her teeth to bite her lip to keep from making noise. If it was anyone other than Malfoy, she might have actually enjoyed it.

Just let me have one more seconds of this, and then I’ll slap his—

She heard a sudden clanging noise. The sandglass had reached five minutes. Draco took his hands out from under her jumper. 

“Good girl,” he said. “You managed to be as brave as a Gryffindor for five minutes. That’s two Galleons to you.”

Relieved that she could finally move her hands and take the money, Ginny grabbed both coins and slid them over to her, then put her hands flat on the table again for the next round. Being touched by Draco was already the worst of it.  She could do this. She could win. 

Then she felt him, or his wand, tap against the knot keeping the tie attached to her head. “Colloportus.”

She felt the tie cinch even tighter magically. Now she couldn’t even remove it unless someone cast Alohomora on it for her.

Great. Just great. Maybe it was better this way. At least she couldn’t see what they were doing to her. She just had to stay calm.

She heard footsteps moving away from her and footsteps moving toward her. Then she felt the weight of a coin on the backs of each of her hands once more and heard the sandglass be turned over. She tried to prepare herself as another round started. What was he going to do? Poke her in the sides? Tickle her neck? Try to convince her a spider was crawling up her back?

None of the above. Ginny let out a surprised little whine as a new pair of hands came to rest on her hips. She tensed. Did all of these boys just want to touch her? What was so fun about that?

It was nerve-wracking being stroked and pinched and squeezed by a boy when she had no idea who it was. At least Draco was a known quantity. This could be anyone! She tried to get a sense of who it was by the way their hands felt. Were their hands big or small? Did they have long or short fingers? Were they rough or soft, gentle or crude? Was this Zabini, possibly? It certainly wasn’t Crabbe or Goyle since the hands didn’t feel like huge slabs of meat.

An impact at her rear end drove her forward slightly, not enough to dislodge the coins on her hands. The impacts repeated steadily, something driving forward at her butt over and over. Ginny hissed angrily. This one was humping her from behind too.

Ginny dug her fingertips into the table and tried to distract herself. She tried to think about homework and Quidditch and her plans for the next Hogsmeade trip. None of it helped. Like Draco, this new boy wasn’t just satisfying himself with one act for five minutes. He had to touch her hips, her hair, her back, stroke his fingers up her arms and across her stomach. Toward the end, he went up her jumper as well, rubbing his fingers into her tits through her shirt like he thought he was kneading dough.

Ginny wanted to punch him. Then she wanted to take out her wand and hex him until he looked more like a slug than a person. But the feeling of the Galleons on the backs of her hands kept her from doing anything. She stood there, bent over and huffing softly, trying not to make any noise, and took it like a woman.

The sandglass clanged again, and Ginny collected two more Galleons.

So it went for the rest of the night. At five minutes per boy, and fifty boys waiting to take their turns with her, it took over four hours for the challenge to reach a conclusion. Ginny felt every second of it drip by like grains of sand dropping through the sandglass. Cut off from her vision by the tie covering her eyes and unable to move her upper body much for fear of dislodging the coins, there was nothing for her to do but feel everything that was happening to her, no matter how much she tried to distract herself.

Some of the Slytherin boys were all too excited to get their hands on Ginny’s body. They barely pretended to be trying to spook her into jerking her hands away from the table. Instead, they squeezed and groped and rubbed up against her like they’d never touched a hot, athletic redhead before. The fact that she was blindfolded made them all the more eager. Unable to see them, it reduced her to an object in their eyes. They treated her accordingly.

Others did try to get her to jump or flinch or move, anything to dislodge the coins. They put their hands up her skirt or jumper, feeling her naked thighs or covered breasts. They toyed with her by never letting her be sure how far they were going to go. When their fingers stroked the waistband of her panties or cupped under her butt, her heart hammered in her chest. They took special delight in making her squeak or gasp or whimper. None of them made her move, but the longer it went on, the more the boys were able to draw increasingly embarrassing noises out of her.

It pissed her off knowing that they were only treating her this way because she was a girl. If a boy had broken his broom, Draco would have just written to his father for another one. But because she had tits, they jumped at the first excuse to get their hands on her, to humiliate her, to bring her down to their level. She would not give them the satisfaction of showing that their tricks were getting to her, nor how degrading it was for fifty boys to pay to paw at her. She would not be a coward either. They would not break her.

She had given up on trying to guess who was touching her. She couldn’t tell their hands apart until a particularly big and meaty pair put a coin on each of her hands and then began to grope her. Ginny squealed and nearly dropped the coins. It was clearly Crabbe or Goyle. No one else had hands that huge or clumsy except for them.

Ginny suspected that it was more than clumsiness that caused his hands to brush against her breasts repeatedly. She’d flown against both of Malfoy’s cronies in Quidditch, and they took every opportunity to bump up against her during the matches. Or at least they tried—she could literally fly circles around them. But now she was stuck in place, bent over with her hands on the table for them, and there was nothing she could do to keep them off of her.

The other Slytherins had mostly focused on the parts of her that were between her chin and knees, aside from her hair, which they took great delight in pulling on and stroking. But he—she guessed it was Goyle, by the particularly gross sounds of his breathing—went higher. His fingers climbed to her jaws and cheek, roaming to her lips. Ginny opened her mouth in shock and immediately regretted it because he filled it with the index and middle fingers on both his hands, stretching her mouth wide open. 

Ginny was fishhooked, and she felt about as helpless as a fish caught on a hook. Her mouth was stretched ridiculously by his sausage-like fingers. The insides of her cheeks ached, along with her jaw. Even worse, she must have looked ridiculous. Almost as bad was the taste of his fingers, which certainly didn’t resemble any sausages she’d ever had.

He started doing what so many boys had already done and began humping his fat dick against her ass through their clothes. Thankfully, despite her blindfold, she could tell that it was only fabric rubbing against her, not actual skin.

His fingers didn’t hold still in her mouth. They grabbed at her tongue, which she wriggled away desperately, but there was nowhere in her mouth to run. He pinched it between his fingers and pulled it forward until she was forced to hang her tongue out of her mouth like a rutting bitch. This was met with immediate howls of laughter and derisive jeers from the Slytherins watching her. Ginny flushed hot with anger. As soon as his fingers released her tongue to pull her lips out once more, she tucked her tongue back into her mouth. He simply pulled it out again. She got the message. Her tongue was staying out until he was done with her.

The most humiliating effect of this, even worse than making her look like an idiot, was that she now sounded like one as well. With her mouth open and her tongue out, she had no way to keep her voice in as he dry-humped her ass. It came out of her in loud, embarrassing, animalistic noises that certainly indicated no pleasure, but she knew how boys would take it.

There was another problem. Ginny felt utterly humiliated. That wasn’t the problem. The problem is what it did to her. Embarrassment that normally boiled inside her and turned into the fiery, quick-witted, decisive boldness that she was known for now had nowhere to go. It just spread throughout her body, burning and tingling, getting warmer and warmer the more he humped the back of her skirt. It was as if her mind and her body had completely opposite ideas about how desirable this was.

I will be brave I will be brave I will be brave! They will not win!

Goyle’s five minutes ran out. Ginny barely had a moment to breathe in some fresh air and relax her jaw and mouth before someone who could only be Crabbe dropped a couple of coins on her hands and put his hand on the back of her head. He began to press her down, slow enough that he couldn’t be said to be pushing her in a way that might dislodge the coins. Ginny resisted out of instinct, but try as she might, she simply wasn’t strong enough to stop her from gradually pinning her against the table, breasts flat against the would, head between her hands, butt pressed out against his crotch like she was asking for him to fuck her.

Then the pressure on her head released. Ginny sprang up, or tried to. The moment she got an inch off the table, his hand was between her shoulder blades, pinning her down once more.

He chuckled. Ginny felt the fire grow ten times as hot. She would not let him win!

Ginny was only a teenage girl, and one as slender as an hourglass, but she was an athlete and she prided herself on her physical ability. No way could any boy, even one as ogre-like as Crabbe, keep her pinned down if she didn’t want to be. So keeping her hands as steady as she could, she clenched her entire body and tried to force herself up. She struggled and she squirmed. She twisted, bucked, and shoved. His hand remained on her back, and her tits remained on the table. 

Red-cheeked and sweating, her hair messy around her face, Ginny stopped resisting. She had no idea why they were so obsessed with physically dominating her. Of course they were stronger than her, she was a girl and they were twice her size! They still couldn’t beat her at school or magic, which was what actually mattered. 

That’s right. She had her mind and her skills. That’s what counted.

She felt the weight on her increase. He was leaning against her, pushing her up against the table. His hard dick, like all the other ones, was pressed up against her asscheeks through a few thin layers of fabric. But he didn’t just hump away at her amateurishly. He angled against her with intent, and as his body bore down on hers, she felt her pussy squeezed against the end of the table through her skirt. Then he began to roll his hips against her, grinding her down against it.

Ginny’s eyes would have widened rather dramatically if she weren’t blindfolded. She had masturbated with the end of a table like this before, but only when she was alone. It was much more intense now that someone else was doing it to her. And he could put so much more pressure on it than she could, and control her movements so much more easily.

Ginny bit her lip as he basically forced her to masturbate with the table. She would have loved to tell him that it felt like absolutely nothing, but she wasn’t sure she could say it without her voice wavering and a needy little whimper floating out.

At least the way her chest was being compressed against the table made it harder to breathe and therefore harder to moan. With her upper teeth pressed down against her lower lip, she could safely rub against the table without making it obvious to anyone listening. 

She was sure that Crabbe was using her butt in much the same way that she was using the table, except no one was making him do it. The reason his bulge was hard and throbbing against her rear was because he’d paid two Galleons to do it.

Ugh. She was trembling. She needed him to stop doing this. Her pussy had been tingling with the angry, embarrassed sensations that had been running through her body all night. Now that it had something to rub against, she was helpless to hold it back. She just had to pray that the time ran out before her ability to hold back her orgasm did.

It was going to be a close race. Ginny could feel herself burning up. If only he would pull her hair, smack her ass, yank her skirt down—no! She didn’t want that, and she wouldn’t let him give it to her. She was brave enough not to cum.

She whimpered softly. He was so hard against her, so firm, so big. Her pussy was clenching against the table through her panties and skirt, trying to find something to grip onto. Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck—

The sandglass clanged. Ginny sighed in relief as he lifted off of her. She swept the two coins she earned toward the growing pile on the table over to the side  and straightened up, brushing her hair out of her face. That had been close. A few more seconds, and she would have orgasmed.

Her body didn’t get a lot of time to cool down. There were still more boys who wanted to pay to take their turn with her, but she was almost done with this ordeal. If coming out victorious here wouldn’t prove that Gryffindors were brave and girls were strong, she didn’t know what would.

Now that her pussy was needy from being denied, it was harder to control her reactions to what they did to her. Fingers poked her, hands squeezed her, all in ways that made her bite her lip. Ginny had to keep reminding herself that just because she couldn’t see them didn’t mean they couldn’t see her. She had to do her best not to embarrass herself by mistake.

By the end of it, she was twitching from overstimulation. The fingertips of so many boys had traced the contours of her body while she struggled not to moan. If it was Gryffindor boys, or anyone with an ounce of dignity, doing this to her, she’d be bent over with her ass high in the air, all thoughts of money or victory forgotten, begging them to take her. But it wasn’t any of that. These boys were Slytherin, and—what had Hermione called them? Oh yes—sexist. She clung to her dignity and pride like someone holding onto the edge of a cliff, looking down over a great fall. 

But the pile of gold she's collected was larger than ever. Almost a hundred Galleons. She’d never had that much money in her life. All it took to earn it was a single night, some horny boys, and a willingness to put a price on her dignity.

The sandglass clanged for the fiftieth time. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as the last boy took his hands off of her ass and stepped away. She took her Galleons, glad this trial was finally over. All she needed now was someone to unlock the knot of the tie around her head so she could go back to her dormitory and finger her dripping wet pussy into oblivion.

She heard someone come up to her. “Good work,” Draco said. “You really showed them how brave and strong a Gryffindor girl can be.”

“I won, Malfoy. Undo the charm on my tie so I can take my gold and leave.”

“I will. Put your hands flat on the table first, though.”

She put her hands back on the table suspiciously, wondering what he was up to. Then she felt the familiar weight of a Galleon press onto the back of each of her hands.

“You already went!”

“And now I’m going again. You need the money, don’t you?”

Ginny clenched her jaw. “Whatever. Get it over with.”

She steeled herself for the next, and hopefully final, five minutes of being touched by a Slytherin. 

He stroked down her sides. Maybe it was the fact that she was so close to being done with this, or maybe it was how painfully sensitive her skin was after hours of being felt up, but Ginny was shaking like a leaf almost immediately. She didn’t want him to touch her, but she very badly wanted to touch herself as soon as she could.

She wondered if he was going to grope her chest again. Instead, his hands crept up her skirt. She hissed, fingers gripping against the table as his fingers stroked over her ass and panties, but she clenched her arms and held still. No way was she going to lose after coming this far.

She felt his fingers hook into the waistband of her panties. She cursed softly. Then they began to slide down her legs.

“Draco!” she whispered furiously. “What are you—”

He tugged her panties down to her knees.

Ginny went white in the face. She could feel her panties straining between her shaking knees. Her pussy was exposed to the air, covered only by her skirt. 

“You git!” she squeaked. “Pull them up!”

“Pull what up?” he said.

“You know!”

“This?” He pulled up the front of her shirt to the bottom of her chest, exposing her stomach. 

Ginny’s throat constricted. “Put that down!” she gasped.

“Down, you say?”

His hands ran up the back of her shirt and yanked her bra down to her stomach, making it very clear to anyone watching how utterly exposed she was. No one could see anything except her bra and maybe her panties, but that was still too much.

Ginny’s heart was beating so loud in her chest that she thought people might be able to hear it. There was a buzzing in her head and all over her skin. The Galleons practically burned against the backs of her hands. If it weren’t for them, she would be slapping Draco so hard his head would fly off.

Why did he have to keep humiliating her? And why couldn’t she stop him?

Reeling from the shock, Ginny didn’t notice what was happening next until it had already happened. Draco’s hands pushed her naked asscheeks apart under her skirt, the view of which she desperately hoped was hidden by his body. Then she felt something wedge up between her buttcheeks. Something long, hard, and fleshy. 

Ginny had felt these boys bumping their boners against her all night. But there had always been a layer of fabric there. Now there was nothing. Not her panties, and not his pants. She had no doubt that was his naked cock between her cheeks.

“M-M-Malfoy!” she squeaked. 

“Just using you the way you were meant to be used,” he said. He slid his hands around to her hips and stomach, pulling her butt against his crotch while beginning to hotdog his cock up and down against her ass.

Two Galleons weren’t worth this. Ginny would have given up the money and slapped him, except the idea of whirling around, skirt flying, while her panties and bra were both down didn’t seem advisable. She had to trust Draco to keep her covered up, even if he took advantage of her while doing so.

His hands moved up her jumper again, squeezing her breasts like had done hours ago. This time, she was ten times more sensitive, and this time, her bra wasn’t in the way. Her shirt alone was almost no protection against his fingers. She whimpered and squirmed, fighting and failing to hold back her voice and her movements that made her asscheeks squeeze up and down his cock.

“Good girl. It must feel nice to give in and do what comes naturally.”

“Sh…shut up!”

He pinched her nipples. Ginny groaned. He did it again, and she hung her head, hair falling down around her face as she made embarrassing, needy noises.

“See? You’re so much happier when you’re in your place.”

“I…I’m not!”

“Shh.” He pinched her nipples again, and she squeaked and moaned. “Think less, move your body more. Like a proper witch.”

Her mind refused to obey. Her hips worked her ass up and down his cock like she was being paid to…which she was.

“This is what you think about every time you sit on a broomstick, isn’t that right, Weasley?”

Anything she said would just be used against her. Ginny kept her mouth shut. At least, until he pinched her nipples again. “Yes! That’s right!” she hissed. “Now finish up!”

“Where do you want me to finish!”

Ginny went blank. “Wait, no, I….”

While she stammered and tried to make sense of things, Draco continued to fuck her buttcheeks. “I’m going to cum, witch.”

“Wait! No!”

Draco grunted in her ear, which was almost as bad as the sudden wet feeling of warm slime shooting up her back.

The ringing in Ginny’s ears drowned out the clanging of the sandglass. She remained in shock as Draco pulled up his pants under the cover of her skirt and stepped away, leaving her shirt up over her stomach and her panties and bra pulled down.

He’d…he’d ejaculated onto her!

“Alohomora!” he said, tapping the tie wrapped around her head. The knot loosened, and Ginny shakily took it down from her face, squinting and blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to light for the first time in over four hours. Fifty Slytherin boys were staring at her like she was a prized animal on display at some show. There was a rubbish bin she hadn’t noticed when she first came in. For some reason, it was overflowing with used tissues.

Ginny couldn’t think of anything to say. She decided to adopt a dignified silence as she pulled up her panties with trembling fingers and fixed up her bra and tucked in her shirt as best she could. She squirmed at the feeling of Draco’s cum on her back, squishing wetly against her shirt. She hoped her jumper hid the wet mark. 

Finally, she could collect her Galleons and leave. Two Galleons from fifty boys, and Draco twice, meant 102 Galleons. She started to reach for it, but Draco was there first.

“What are you doing?” Ginny demanded as he began to sweep the Galleons into a bag.

“Collecting my money,” he drawled. “You’re working off a debt to me, remember?”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open in shock. Of course she hadn’t forgotten about the debt! But somehow she’d convinced herself that she was earning this money for herself, and she’d pay him back when she was ready. 

She’d let 50 Slytherin boys feel her up for hours, and it was all for his benefit.

“Keep it,” she muttered. “I’ll have this debt paid off in no time.”

“Sure. You just need another few hundred boys to feel you up.”

Ginny fled the common room, jeers of laughter chasing her, before she could be any more humiliated. It was past midnight. She raced back to Gryffindor Tower, head swimming with embarrassment and frustrated, helpless anger, barely remembering to watch out for Filch. 

Everyone was asleep when she got back. Ginny wanted to take a long bath to soak away the feeling of their hands on her. But instead, she hurried into bed, hid under the covers, yanked her panties down, and shoved her wand up her wet, aching pussy.

Fuck she hated them so much but she needed to get this out of her system before she could think about hating them properly and what she was going to do about it.

She didn’t want them to fuck her. She had her wand if she needed anything long and hard inside of her. Ginny bit down on her edge of her pillowcase and worked her wand in and out of herself. Brave, heroic Gryffindors deserved a reward, right?

She definitely didn’t deserve to be pushed around, exploited, used, and taken advantage of by men. She was stronger than that…no matter how much they told her she wasn’t, and no matter how much they proved it.

Ginny came all over her wand and her bedsheet, breathing hard against her pillow. Finally she turned over on her back to go to sleep.

Only then did she remember she’d forgotten to wash off Draco’s cum off her back.



Ginny did her best to avoid Malfoy and his cronies all of next week. She didn’t want to be reminded of how she’d earned 102 Galleons for him—or 98, if you didn’t count the four he paid himself.

At least she could bask in the adoration of her fellow Gryffindors, who were still in awe of her miraculous catch and the victory in the Quidditch match. If they won their third and final match by enough points, they had a chance at the cup.

Hermione was still trying to push the SPEW thing.

“It’s not SPEW, it’s the Society for the Promotion of English Witches,” Hermione said huffily. “I was hoping you could do an interview for The Quibbler, actually.”

“Luna’s dad’s tabloid?”

“It’s a legitimate newspaper,” Hermione said, “or at least it will be when we get our story in there. I want them to do an article on SPEW—I mean, on the Society.”

“What would it be about?”

“You, at least in part. A girl Seeker who flies better than the boys. It’s perfect!”

Ginny did not want the full story of the match and its aftermath to get out. “No thank you.”

“Think about it, will you?” Hermione said urgently.

Ginny promised she would, though she had no intention of changing her mind.

She had a week of peace. And then she got a letter.

Pigwidgeon delivered it to her during breakfast on Saturday. What she read chilled her immediately.

902 Galleons to go. 

Slytherin Quidditch changing rooms. Tonight after dinner.

It wasn’t signed, but Ginny knew exactly who it was from. She didn’t appreciate the formal summons, but it reminded her that if she didn’t play along, Malfoy would write a letter to his father. And while Ginny doubted that Malfoy could really force her to pay him back a thousand Galleons, she certainly believed that Lucius Malfoy could make her father’s life a living hell, and get him fired. 

Besides, if Malfoy went too far, she’d just hit him with a Bat-Bogey hex and deal with the consequences.

Ginny spent the rest of the day in a state of nervous anticipation, just like she would on the day of a Quidditch match. Malfoy would probably try to humiliate her again. But she wouldn’t fall for any of his tricks this time.

After dinner, Ginny acted like she was going out to the grounds to take a walk. When she was sure no one could see her, she doubled back toward the Quidditch pitch and found her way to the Slytherin changing room, which she’d never had to visit before. 

To her great displeasure, Malfoy wasn’t alone. He’d apparently invited the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. All of them were boys, all of them were obnoxious, and all of them were leering at her as if there was something very interesting to look at between her neck and solar plexus.

Ginny contemplated hexing them all before anything could happen. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at Malfoy. “I’m here. What do you want?”

“A Quidditch lesson.”

Ginny laughed. “Finally! Merlin knows you need one. Got sick of having the Snitch snatched out from under your nose, Malfoy?”

“We all want a lesson, Weasley. You’re going to show us how a girl catches the Snitch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, give me a broom and five minutes and I’ll have it for you.”

Draco produced a Snitch from its pocket. The tiny golden ball flapped its wings frantically. Even from across the room, Ginny nearly shot out her hand in response to the familiar softly metallic fluttering sound the Golden Snitch’s wings made.

“No broom, Weasley. As much as you’d love to sit on something long and hard, we want to pay you for a different exhibition.”

“Pay?” Ginny repeated.

“Ten Galleons for every boy here who wants a lesson. That’s seventy Galleons, Weasley.”

She glared at him. Ginny doubted that Malfoy would make it as easy for her as catching a Snitch for seventy Galleons. “But you want me to catch it without a broom?”

Malfoy went over to a box on the floor and opened it. Dozens of small balls burst out, all of them various colors, flying around as if they were Snitches.

“Malfoy, what is this?” Ginny demanded, jerking out of the way to dodge a whizzing brown ball. “Are you crazy?”

“We know you can fly,” Malfoy said as he began taking off his green-and-silver striped tie, “but do you have the right instincts? A seeker has to find the Snitch before she can catch it. Turn around.”

“I won’t!”

He walked around behind her instead. “Close your eyes.”

Ginny’s fists balled, but she complied. She clenched her arms and wrists as she felt him wrap his tie around her eyes.

“You’re already used to this,” he said as he knotted it behind her head.

Ginny’s heart beat faster. She just knew he was going to try to humiliate her again somehow. “Let’s get this over with. What are the rules?”

“Your job is to find the Golden Snitch. And you’re not allowed to use your hands.” He slapped her on the ass and used the motion to shove her forward into the center of the room. Ginny could hear the sounds of balls whizzing around her, along with the laughter of the Slytherin boys.

“How am I supposed to find the Snitch when I can’t see?” she demanded. “And what can I grab it with other than my hands?”

Draco snickered. “Try using your mouth.”

Ginny bumped into a locker when she went one way blindly, then stumbled off of a Slytherin boy when she tried another direction. She would never catch the Snitch if she wasn’t moving fast, but she couldn’t do that while blind and standing upright. Ginny crouched down, then got onto her hands and knees. She could crawl this way, and while it might look ridiculous, at least she could move relatively freely.

So this was their plan. They wanted her to crawl around ridiculously with her mouth open, looking like a fool, until she lucked into finding the Snitch. Was this really worth ten Galleons to each of them? Boys were fools.

Her mouth open, Ginny listened intently for the sound of wings. It was difficult to distinguish the Snitch from all the other balls flying around near her face, but she’d spent years flying on a broom, playing Quidditch. She could do it.

Ginny sensed a ball near her face and lunged forward. It tried to get away, but she was faster. Her lips closed around it, and her tongue flicked out as if to secure victory. She tasted…chocolate.

The boys were laughing. Ginny scowled, but she had to be sure. Information mattered if she wanted to win. So she sucked on the chocolate ball, working it around between her lips and stroking it with her tongue as it gradually melted into her mouth.

The chocolate melted to reveal a small metallic ball at the center. So that was the trick. There were enchanted Snitch-like balls with a layer of something sweet around them.

Ginny spat the ball out of her mouth. Instead of flying around like before, she heard it fall to the floor. That was a relief. If she just sucked them all off, then the real Snitch would be the only one left.

Excited by this new discovery, Ginny hurried along the floor of the locker room on her hands and knees, chasing the sound of the Golden Snitch. She thought she heard it near her head, but once again, it was a flavored ball. This one tasted like caramel, salty and sweet. She sucked it to completion and let it fall on the floor.

Crawling along again, turning her head this way and that to listen, Ginny suddenly heard the sound of the Snitch close by her ear. She turned and lunged, mouth wide open. But it wasn’t the Snitch that entered her mouth. It was a ball, no, a pair of balls, in some kind of wrinkled, flesh-like casing. 

Ginny sucked on the pair of balls curiously. She wasn’t sure what they were. They weren’t flavored like the other ones. The skin-like sack that the balls were encased in made her wonder if they were sausage, but they didn’t feel like food in her mouth. Her tongue probed them, jostling one of the balls, then the other. She tugged one into her mouth curiously, slurping on it like she was trying to polish it with her mouth. When it felt totally soaked in her saliva, she let it out and began to suck on the other one the same way.

No matter what she tried to do with her mouth, she simply couldn’t deduce what this pair of balls was. It wasn’t sweet like the first two balls. It didn’t taste bad, although it was salty and reminded her of the taste of dried sweat on her lips after a Quidditch match. And she couldn’t get them to drop to the floor. They stubbornly remained at the height of her mouth. Well, maybe she wasn’t supposed to make these balls drop, since they didn’t seem to be trying to fly away.

“Try kissing it,” a Slytherins suggested. Judging by the direction of his voice, he was practically standing over her. Ginny did, pressing her lips in the little nook in the sack right between and over the balls. For some reason, this led to howls of laughter from the other Slytherins.

Ginny turned away to chase more balls, her face reddening. She was sure they were making fun of her somehow. Just because she hadn’t solved the mystery of the salty sack of balls didn’t mean she wasn’t a smart, capable witch showing off the reason she’d been made Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

The next ball she sucked on had some kind of raspberry flavor on it that she slurped away, licking her lips as it fell to the floor. Then there was one that felt like it was dipped in peanut butter. Ginny didn’t mind the after-dinner dessert, although she really hated the company.

Then she got her mouth on another pair of salty balls in a wrinkly sack. She knew these were different from the first pair because they weren’t wet with her saliva. Ginny was confused. She felt like these balls had to be the key to what was happening. Would Draco really want to watch her crawl around and chase a Snitch for 70 Galleons? Not bloody likely. These sweaty ball sacks must have had something to do with the real game. 

Ginny had to figure out how to open this puzzle-box. She took both balls into her mouth and tugged with her lips, but that didn’t do much other than get a bit of a bounce from them. She reached up with her hand and began stroking them, feeling them softly, not squeezing hard in case she damaged whatever was inside. She leaned in with her face, licking up and down the sack while petting and stroking with her fingertips. Still, nothing yielded.

Angrily, Ginny stuffed both balls into her mouth and shook her head back and forth like a dog, but this didn’t work either. She spat them out and moved on.

Ginny chased after the Golden Snitch as best she could, following the sounds of the fluttering wings around the room, but she barely felt like she was closing in on it at all. She slurped a vanilla ball, licked a strawberry cream one, and tolerated a coconut-covered sphere before she ended up with another pair of sweaty balls in her mouth.

Ginny refused to be defeated by this puzzle. If sucking on them wasn’t the solution like it was with the other balls, then she had to think of something else. 

Was thinking the key? Ginny carefully maneuvered her head under the pair of balls and let them rest on top of her soft red hair. Perhaps an idea would magically occur to her.

Ginny knelt and waited with the balls plopped on top of her head, but no ideas magically arrived. Well, sucking on them was safer than not, right? It worked for all the other balls, after all. So Ginny carefully licked each of them and made sure the sack was dripping with her saliva before she moved on to the next ball. 

She got a toffee one in her mouth as she crawled after the Snitch again. She snatched a lemon-flavored ball out of the air with her lips next. Then she heard the sound of the Snitch. Maybe she could snatch it with her mouth too.

No. It was another ball sack. Ginny slurped on it out of habit for a moment before spitting the balls out of her mouth. “I don’t know what to do!” she complained.

“Try smelling,” a boy in front of her hinted, to more snickering from the Slytherins.

Ginny didn't get the joke. She needed to catch the Snitch and get the seventy Galleons, though, so she was willing to take any help she could get. Ginny pressed her nose against the pair of balls and inhaled.

“More,” the boy suggested.

How encouraging of him. Ginny didn’t want to take advice from a Slytherin, but what choice did she have? She didn’t just inhale this time, she snorted, honking air into her nose like a pig, tugging the wrinkly skin-like sack against her nostrils. That didn’t unlock anything, so she tried several more times, honking and snorting as much as she could while the Slytherins laughed at her.

Was there a clue in the way the balls smelled? Ginny couldn’t quite identify the smell. She ran her nose up and down the balls, inhaling as much as she could. The smell was intense in a way. In fact, it almost made her feel light-headed. Her lips naturally pressed against them and began to suck, her tongue stroking each ball automatically while her mind worked.

Nothing. She had no ideas. 

Ginny finished sucking on the sack and moved on. The next ball practically flew into her mouth and tasted like blueberry. Then she caught a buttery one and sucked it off before letting it fall out of her mouth to the floor. Right on cue, she heard the Snitch flapping near her head and lunged. But instead of wrapping her lips around the shiny Golden Snitch, she felt them close around another sweaty sack of balls.

Ginny would have rolled her eyes if they weren’t already covered as another wave of laughter swept through the Slytherins. They were messing with her somehow. She had to figure out what was going on.

Ginny sucked on the pair of balls while her mind ran through as many possibilities as it could. It was stressful scrambling around on the floor while a bunch of Slytherin boys mocked her. Sucking on a nice fat pair of balls made it easier to feel like herself. 

What were these balls? The fact that they came in some kind of shell made her think they were nuts, but she didn’t know of any nuts that were surrounded by a wrinkly sack instead of a hard shell. 

Ginny stroked her tongue up and down the pair of balls curiously. She balanced them on her tongue, then began bouncing them by undulating her tongue. For some reason, this got a verbal reaction from a Slytherin who happened to be standing right in front of her, so she did it again.

The balls fit her mouth so nicely. Ginny could imagine that they were made for her to suck, or she was made to suck on them. She kissed and slurped and slobbered on them, feeling how they felt between her lips, in her mouth, sucking on them to try to get them to melt in her mouth like the other balls did.

The Slytherin in front of her made weirder and weirder sounds the more she sucked on the balls. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? Ginny gave the pair one last lick and kiss, then let them out of her mouth and moved on.

The next time Ginny encountered a pair of balls in a ball sack, they were flying, smacking her in the face over and over while she tried to catch it with her mouth. But it was almost as mobile as the Snitch, pulling back before she could reach it, then slapping against her lips, nose, and forehead before she could react.

Ginny wasn’t sure what the reason was for the sudden change in behavior, but it had to mean she was getting close. Maybe the flying ability of the ball sacks activated because she’d sucked off so many of the sweet-tasting balls? 

If she could catch these balls, she could catch the Snitch. Ginny held her mouth wide open, trying to get them to fly into her mouth, but instead they dragged up and down her face like they were using her as a rag. 

Ginny tried a different strategy. Instead of going after them, she’d hold still, like she was trying to get a butterfly to land on her. With her tongue out, mouth wide open, and eyes covered, she must have been an inviting target. Suddenly she felt the balls land on her tongue and dip into her mouth. Only when they were all the way inside did she slowly close her lips around then and start sucking.

The balls stayed in her mouth, soaking in her saliva. Still, she couldn’t seem to melt off the outer layer like she did with the other flying balls. She couldn’t lick it off either. Finally, she let them out of her mouth giving them each a last quick kiss goodbye in case that made them more willing to come back to her later.

Ginny resumed her crawling hunt for the Snitch. By now she’d sucked off almost all of the balls, meaning there were fewer distractions to get between her and the golden prize. The sounds of its wings were getting closer. She almost had it!

Not yet. Yet another pair of balls entered her mouth instead. Ginny whined in frustration as she began to tug and slurp and drool on this ball sack instead of the Snitch like she wanted. Was she ever going to catch it? They were laughing at her again. If she could just take this blindfold off, she’d know the trick!

Whatever she had to do, they clearly weren’t going to let her do it. So Ginny quit. She wouldn’t chase the Snitch on her hands and knees anymore like the fool they wanted her to be. Debt or no, she could act with pride as a Seeker, a Gryffindor, and a girl, and suck on these balls instead.

With nothing else to distract her, Ginny devoted her to the task of tongue-polishing and spit-washing these balls. She sucked and tugged on them with her lips, then rubbed her nose in them, breathing in like she’d never smelled anything better. 

“You’re so good at that,” a boy who happened to be in front of her moaned.

Ginny frowned. Good at what? Sucking on balls? What was so impressive about that? And why was his voice so strange?

A camera went off. Ginny heard the sound of the shutter. She slid the balls out of her mouth. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” one of the boys said. “Just commemorating the occasion. Get back to sucking.”

Ginny didn’t mind slurping on them some more. She wasn’t worried about the picture. Even if it was her in the photo, so what? Who cared about a picture of a girl on her hands and knees, blindfolded, with a fat pair of balls in her mouth? It wasn’t like they could use that to embarrass her.

The Gryffindor redhead tuned them out while she worked the balls in her mouth over and over, bathing them in her drool, then wiping them with her tongue. She couldn’t hear the Golden Snitch anywhere, but if she stayed put and kept slobbering on this ball sack, it was bound to turn up.

The boy groaned again. That was odd. Then Ginny felt something wet land on top of her head, as if someone had shot something warm and sticky out of their wand at her, and it had landed rather limply in her hair instead of blasting straight at her.

The camera went off again. Ginny scowled. “What was that?”

“Uh…nut butter,” one of the Slytherins said.

Ginny perked up. She’d melted the balls after all! She just had to suck on them longer and stimulate them with her tongue more.

Mouth wide open, Ginny hurried on her hands and knees back to the first set of balls she’d sucked on. As a Seeker, she had an incredible memory for where things were around her, even if she couldn’t see them. In no time at all, she was tongue-blasting this first set of balls, replacing the layer of saliva she’d built up on it with a new one. With a little patience and a lot of effort, she soon felt another splurt of nut butter onto her hair.

But there was no time to stop. Ginny was sick and tired of crawling around the Slytherin locker room for the amusement of the worst group of boys at Hogwarts. She wanted to get this over with, fast.

Over the next ten minutes, Ginny sucked, slurped, licked, kissed, nuzzled, drooled on, and gave mouth-baths to every remaining pair of nuts in the room. By the time the last one finished on her, her hair was soaked with warm, slimy nut butter. Some of it was even sliding down her scalp to her forehead and the sides of her face. The camera went off like crazy as she knelt there, mouth open.

Suddenly the Golden Snitch flew into her mouth. In fact, it shot in there so fast that it felt like someone had shoved it in there. She quickly spat it out onto her hand and held it up triumphantly.

“Got it!” she said, so relieved this was over. “That’ll be seventy Galleons and the rest of my night back, please.”

“Wait,” Draco said. “You came here right after dinner. You haven’t had dessert yet.”

“What do you mean?” she said suspiciously. 

“You don’t want to let all that nut butter go to waste.”

Ginny frowned. She was just taking their word for it that it was nut butter. She reached up and gingerly touched her fingertips to the sticky puddle on top of her head, then sucked it off her fingers suspiciously. It didn’t taste like any nut butter she’d had before. It was bitter tasting, not sweet, and it was slimy.

“What kind of nut is this?” she asked. “It tastes off.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Draco said. Ginny felt him slide what felt like a spoon through her hair, undoubtedly scooping up some of the nut butter. “Open your mouth.”

Ginny just wanted to yank the blindfold off and walk out of there with her money, but she didn’t want to disobey him when she was so close to victory.

Still, she had pride. “I don’t need you to feed me, Malfoy!”

“Yes you do. Open up.”

Ginny growled, then relented. Better to get it over with quickly. She opened her mouth and barely flinched as Malfoy stuck the spoon into her mouth. She closed her lips around it and sucked the nut butter off as he slowly tugged the spoon out of her mouth.

The nut butter did not taste better when there was more of it. Ginny swished it around with her tongue to delay swallowing it. It was so thick, so pungent, and the flavor was so intense. Whatever nut butter this was, they didn’t serve it at Hogwarts.

It was so gross that she wanted to spit it out. But they would probably make fun of her if she did. And Hermione would be upset if she made more work for the House Elves to do. So Ginny pinched her nose and swallowed.

Ewww. Yuck. It did not go down easily. She was going to rinse her mouth out thoroughly tonight. After she washed the rest of the nut butter out of her hair.

She quickly got to her feet before anyone could make any more bright suggestions. “Can I take your stupid tie off now?”

Draco didn’t object, so Ginny yanked it off and handed it back to him. Able to see for the first time in a while, she was surrounded by some very satisfied-looking Slytherins and a lot of metallic balls scattered on the floor. Looking around, she didn’t see the nut butter ball sacks anywhere. 

Money was more important than solving that mystery. Ginny held out her own hand expectantly to Draco. “Where’s my money?”

“I keep it, remember? You work for me.”

Ginny hated being reminded of that. She’d wasted an evening licking a bunch of balls and wrinkly ball sacks so that he could make money.

“Ugh, whatever. Don’t spread those photos around or I’ll hex you. I know I must look weird crawling around like that.”

“Get out of my locker room, slut.”

Ginny glared at him, but she was eager to leave. She paused before exiting the room, looking back at the Slytherin boys. For some reason, they all had very smug, satisfied expressions on their faces. She had no idea why. Was it really so great watching her crawl around and suck on some balls? Some of them were trying very hard not to snigger. She glared at them too, but this just seemed to amuse them more.

They continued to look amused after she left. Why wouldn’t they be? After all, they’d been passing the Snitch around to each other, holding it by their balls to attract her to them the entire time.



Ginny hurried up to Gryffindor Tower and washed her hair out in the sink as much as she could. Some of the other girls gave her weird looks as she rinsed out the pale slimy goo from her hair.

“What is that?” Lavender Brown asked. “Did you, um….”

“It’s just nut butter,” Ginny said sourly. “It got in my mouth too.”

“Uh…what kind of nut?”

“I don’t know, the kind that comes in pairs inside a wrinkly sack.”

“Ew….”

Ginny kept washing until she got out as much of the nut butter from her hair as she could. She spat out the taste of the butter that she’d swallowed into the sink.

She could not keep doing this. Malfoy would keep making her do embarrassing and gross things while he made a thousand Galleons off of her. There had to be a way to fight back.

So when Hermione invited Ginny to the first ever S.P.E.W. meeting next week, she decided to go. With a girl squad around her, she could put all the boys at Hogwarts in their place.