Anyone's Little Girl
title: anyone's little girl
summarary: tom haunts ginny. ginny haunts lucius. he giveth, and he taketh away. it's not exactly eden, but she'll never be anyone's little girl again.
pairings: ginny/lucius, implied tom/ginny.
rating: nc-17 for implied underage sex
Anyone's Little Girl
"In the brave new world of the year 2000, a kiss can still break your heart." - Cirque du Soleil's Alegria
And I'm asking you, is this how you want me?
To be anything you want me to be
And I'm asking you, is this how you see me?
Some little girl kissing your cheek--"asking you", Lennon Murphy.
* * *
Mum?
What is it, Ginny?
Mum, I...I'm in love.
Yes, dear, that's lovely. Who is he? Do we know his family?
N-no, Mum. I'm in love with a dead man, Mum.
That's...a bit odd, dear. Tell me more about it.
Which is just the problem--Ginny can't tell her mother this. The conversation will never happen. In fact, she can't tell her mother anything--Molly is from another time, when you wore your boyfriend's pin and the farthest you let him get was putting his clammy hands up your shirt, dry lips pressed to your cheek. She can't tell Molly, for example, that he's had his hands up more than her shirt, like up her skirt, and her hands have been places that never see the light of day. She's not daddy's little girl anymore. She'll never be anyone's little girl again. And the years creep by--eleven, twelve, thirteen, until the nightmares begin again. But, then, they never really stopped entirely. And she's never been afraid of the dark.
* * *
After Tom, there was a dull ache inside that never quite went away. The hurt subsided that summer, but there was always a queer void that accompanied Ginny everywhere she went. Later, she would seek out Percy, or the twins, but they never had what she needed. That she found in Lucius. The first time he took her, she wept, and he delighted in her tears almost as much as Tom had delighted in coaxing out a scream. But that comes later, much later, after Tom, but before Harry, who never understood her reticence. To Ginny, it was just a game. You struggled, then you begged, and then Tom would make you do things, horrible things, because you wanted him so. In the end it would be all right--both of you would have what you wanted.
To Tom they were only words, words that meant nothing, and they'd had the discussion before.
* * *
Like clockwork, Lucius would sidle up to Ginny, somehow managing to ask her how her day was while fondling her shoulders simultaneously. She had never found shoulders erotic before, and now they repulsed her, the way everything else about her body did. She made him undress her in the dark, without candles, so that she could not see the way her arms goose pimpled with cold, or how the sudden hotness of his body made her respond in ways she did not understand, or want to. Sometimes she didn't even respond at all, and lay there, waiting for it to be over, as he heaved against her, panting and perplexed. For some reason he would only hold her then, and that repulsed her even more. Hurt me, baby, she would coo, biting the inside of her cheek so that it bled. I want you to hurt me.
When Tom left, she was empty inside, and later Lucius would fill that emptiness, but Ginny was still empty then--going through the motions with nothing left inside. By July, the dreams would begin again, and she would lose her appetite. Ginny found she spent most of the summer holidays staring off into space, waiting for Tom to fill in those empty places with his own special brand of fullness. But he never did. Eventually, she took to lurking in small shadowy corners, learning the secret dialect of the house elves, and giggling loudly at inappropriate times.
Sometimes she would pretend Lucius was Tom, her mind's eye turning molten silver hair to ebony, silver eyes to sapphire, even though the intent in their hands was always the same. But wasn't the same. Lucius never took her the way Tom did, pouring himself into her, filling her up to the brim with the stinging, salty fullness that had marked their relationship from beginning to end. When she closed her eyes, he was stretched over her, hands on her hips as he thrust mercilessly into her, taking her one way and then the other, until she felt as though her bones would splinter. Now she goes over and over it in her mind, realizing that Tom was holding her together, the merest pressure from his fingertips gluing together the bits of her soul, and without him pinning her wrists to the floor, she's come undone.