D/G Feast Story: Better Than What?
Title: Better Than What?
Author: SlytherinsWench
Rating: PG-13
Recipe: Better Than Malfoy Cake
Summary: Ginny Weasley eyed her brother through mischievously cast lashes.
Title: Better Than What?
Author: SlytherinsWench
Email: BlackenedQuill@aol.com
A/N: Recipe at the end!
Ginny Weasley eyed her brother through mischievously cast lashes. He almost deserved the apoplectic fit that this latest hatchling plot would inspire.
Scratch that!
He definitely deserved it.
Ginny could see it now, when they revealed that it was her basket… Ron would start out at a slow simmer, his freckles would slowly merge into one another until he became a lovely shade of pink.
Ginny smirked. A very unladylike, and un-Gryffindor thing to do, but she couldn’t help herself. She considered Ron further, the pink tinged illustration goading her to further imagination. Or memory, more like. She’d seen his Routine of Rage quite enough to gauge his reaction.
The pink would mottle into a bright red, his ears glowing possibly brighter than his hair. Possibly. Ginny wasn’t positive about that, the spectrum of color across his face had always provided more than enough entertainment.
But then when Ron didn’t breathe, the red blossomed into the most royal of purples, and finally, if the rage had consumed him completely, he was a striking blue.
It was to this shade of blue that Ginny aspired. And this scheme, this would do it.
Ginny caught the subtle movement before Ron turned to look at her and darted her gaze down at her glass of pumpkin juice. It had suddenly become very interesting. Very interesting, indeed.
“Ginny,” Ron began.
She looked up at him, innocence plastered across her face like so much paint.
“Hmm?” She looked genuinely perplexed, as if she had no clue as to what the warning in his voice meant.
“Were you even listening?” he asked.
“No. What were they talking about?”
Ron seemed to breathe a little sigh. “It was nothing, Gin. It’s just this picnic thing.”
“Oh?” Ginny seemed to take her time, not really interested, but waited for what Ron would say looking altogether unimpressed.
Ron didn’t continue, not until Hermione’s hand connected with the back of his head, making him look sheepish.
“Tell her. It isn’t like she just wouldn’t find out.”
“Okay, okay.” He scowled at Hermione, but couldn’t help smiling as he looked at her.
Ginny saw the look pass between them, and for a moment, she questioned her plot. But then she remembered the horrid debacle that he had pulled over the summer. Ronald Weasley thought that she should come out of her shell? Well, here comes Ginny with all her guns blazing!
“Well?”
“This term, Hogwarts is going to sponsor a picnic. It will be a raffle. Each girl will make some sort of dessert and the boys will bid on it for a picnic with the girl who made it. Now, Ginny, please. I know that you are still mad at me, but for the love of my sanity, please don’t use this to get back at me. There are so many…”
Ginny cut him off. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She pushed back from the table and smiled. With one last look at Ron, she headed back to her dorm room.
Ginny had one week to get the recipe she needed without getting caught.
It wasn’t as if it was a bad thing, it was just, well, racy. And Ron would explode.
Better Than Sex Cake!
Ginny practically had to bite her hand to keep from laughing aloud. She knew it was infantile, but she would so love see McGonagall, or Snape trying to wrap their prudish old tongues around the word, “sex”. She snorted, finally unable to contain herself.
Ginny was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she failed to see the broad expanse of Draco Malfoy in front of her.
The very hard and broad expanse of Draco Malfoy.
Goddess, she didn’t know flesh could be that hard, like marble… No, not like marble, she corrected herself, that was too trite a word to describe the sheer power of his body. More like a diamond, cold, unbending, frozen, unreachable, but beautiful nonetheless.
Ginny raised her eyes to meet his.
Once again, she’d been wrong. There was nothing icy about him. It was fire, a blaze that burned so hot it was cold.
Something glinted in the artic pool of his gaze, the fire leapt.
And Ginny could feel herself melting. Until the harsh tone of his voice jolted her from that sensual abyss.
Merlin’s Bloody Teeth! Had that thought just rattled about her head? Sensual Abyss? She grimaced.
Then she realized Malfoy was still looking at her. No doubt he’d insulted her thoroughly, and there she was gaping like some moon-eyed calf.
“What, nothing to say Weasley?” His brow arched in engineered perfection, as she knew it would.
Ginny straightened. “I don’t have time to play today Malfoy. Things to do, you know.” She lifted her chin and looked down her nose as if he were the veriest of all rabble and made to push past him.
“You didn’t hear a damned word I said.” Then the devastating set of his mouth curved into a smirk; the trademark Malfoy expression that was, of course, beyond predatory.
Ginny paused, as if she actually considered what he was saying. But that was her mistake. That was when her tongue got the better of her and she confirmed, blatantly, what he suspected.
“Nope. You’re right. I wasn’t listening. I was considering your shoulders.” Ginny could have swallowed that traitorous appendage. Perhaps she needed a good, sound smack. Maybe if somebody rattled her teeth hard enough, it would jar her loose from whatever stray demon that had set up housekeeping between the synapses linking her brain and her mouth.
There would be no such luck, as her mouth continued to move. Especially upon seeing the knowledgeable conceit cross his face.
“You have a body to die for Malfoy. Yes, you do.” She fanned herself a bit. Then she took a step forward, as she ran her fingertip across the braw of his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He was conceited, true. And in his mind, what girl didn’t want to be shagged by Draco Malfoy? But he wasn’t stupid. That was something no one could accuse him of.
“What’s your game Weaselette?”
“Oh, that’s right. I remember now. Such pretty wrapping, but once you tear it open, there’s nothing there. Not even a Sickle. Let alone the Galleons that you spent on your personal trainer.” She jerked her hand back as if she’d been bitten. “No, not at all as pleasant to touch as it is to look at.”
Ginny sniffed delicately as if to punctuate her disdain.
Though, she admitted, even as the words were out of her mouth that she’d been lying. Gods! It had been near to impossible not to run her hands down the length of his back and then up into that platinum curl that swept behind his ear.
“Liar.”
He closed the space between them, but Ginny wouldn’t back down. She titled her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes clear and unflinching; though it took all the gumption she possessed to do so.
“Brave little Gryffindor.” He whispered maliciously next to the delicate pink of her ear, his breath hot and soft, an erotic dance across the flesh.
Then his lips hovered across her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
Ginny licked her lips in unconscious anticipation. Her body knew what she wanted, what she needed, before it was a coherent thought.
His scent wrapped around her, his heat radiated through her every sensor and she arched herself into him, allowing him what he would have taken.
“Oh yes, little girl. You better run back behind your brother’s cloak or the Big Bad Slytherin will get you.” He taunted.
“So get me then.” Her words were meant to be controlled and blasé, but they came out in breathless invitation.
As soon as the words escaped her, she found herself with her back pressed against the cold stone of the wall, Draco’s arm around her waist and his lips, demanding and harsh.
Her own arms had snaked around his back and were gripped into the musculature of his finely made shoulders, as the radiating heat that had taunted her before pooled in a rush between her thighs. She dreamt of things in that moment that no chaste girl should ever conceive of, let alone desire. Ginny opened her mouth for him, her feminine shape pliant in his grasp. She was unable to keep her eyes open as the air seemed to be crushed from her lungs and all she could focus on was the sensation of Draco Malfoy.
The reality of it seemed to shock them both to awareness at the same time.
He was the first to catch his breath; the first to speak. “What’s under the wrapper seems to intrigue you a bit more than you’d let on, Weasel-girl.” The smirk returned and he strode away looking rather pleased with himself.
Ginny’s cheeks flamed. The indignity…
Oh yes, the indignity… the phrase set her to thinking. Better Than Sex Cake? Perhaps Better Than Malfoy Cake would do the trick.
-finis-
Better Than Malfoy Cake (Better Than Sex Cake)
1 yellow cake mix (eggs, oil, water, however the recipe on the box calls for)
1 large can crushed pineapple
1 Cup of sugar
2 small packages of instant pineapple or coconut pudding (this author recommends the pineapple)
3 Cups of milk
8 Ounces of Cool Whip
1 Cup of coconut and 1 Cup of nuts (tastes just as yummy without these, add if it is preference)
Prepare and bake cake as directed on box for a 9 x 13 cake. Cool completely. Cook pineapple and sugar for ten minutes, pour over cake. Poke holes in the cake so the mixture will be soak in. Mix pudding and milk; beat for two minutes. Pour over pineapple layer. Cover with Cool Whip. Sprinkle with coconut and nuts. Refrigerate. Enjoy!
Author: SlytherinsWench
Rating: PG-13
Recipe: Better Than Malfoy Cake
Summary: Ginny Weasley eyed her brother through mischievously cast lashes.
Title: Better Than What?
Author: SlytherinsWench
Email: BlackenedQuill@aol.com
A/N: Recipe at the end!
Ginny Weasley eyed her brother through mischievously cast lashes. He almost deserved the apoplectic fit that this latest hatchling plot would inspire.
Scratch that!
He definitely deserved it.
Ginny could see it now, when they revealed that it was her basket… Ron would start out at a slow simmer, his freckles would slowly merge into one another until he became a lovely shade of pink.
Ginny smirked. A very unladylike, and un-Gryffindor thing to do, but she couldn’t help herself. She considered Ron further, the pink tinged illustration goading her to further imagination. Or memory, more like. She’d seen his Routine of Rage quite enough to gauge his reaction.
The pink would mottle into a bright red, his ears glowing possibly brighter than his hair. Possibly. Ginny wasn’t positive about that, the spectrum of color across his face had always provided more than enough entertainment.
But then when Ron didn’t breathe, the red blossomed into the most royal of purples, and finally, if the rage had consumed him completely, he was a striking blue.
It was to this shade of blue that Ginny aspired. And this scheme, this would do it.
Ginny caught the subtle movement before Ron turned to look at her and darted her gaze down at her glass of pumpkin juice. It had suddenly become very interesting. Very interesting, indeed.
“Ginny,” Ron began.
She looked up at him, innocence plastered across her face like so much paint.
“Hmm?” She looked genuinely perplexed, as if she had no clue as to what the warning in his voice meant.
“Were you even listening?” he asked.
“No. What were they talking about?”
Ron seemed to breathe a little sigh. “It was nothing, Gin. It’s just this picnic thing.”
“Oh?” Ginny seemed to take her time, not really interested, but waited for what Ron would say looking altogether unimpressed.
Ron didn’t continue, not until Hermione’s hand connected with the back of his head, making him look sheepish.
“Tell her. It isn’t like she just wouldn’t find out.”
“Okay, okay.” He scowled at Hermione, but couldn’t help smiling as he looked at her.
Ginny saw the look pass between them, and for a moment, she questioned her plot. But then she remembered the horrid debacle that he had pulled over the summer. Ronald Weasley thought that she should come out of her shell? Well, here comes Ginny with all her guns blazing!
“Well?”
“This term, Hogwarts is going to sponsor a picnic. It will be a raffle. Each girl will make some sort of dessert and the boys will bid on it for a picnic with the girl who made it. Now, Ginny, please. I know that you are still mad at me, but for the love of my sanity, please don’t use this to get back at me. There are so many…”
Ginny cut him off. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She pushed back from the table and smiled. With one last look at Ron, she headed back to her dorm room.
Ginny had one week to get the recipe she needed without getting caught.
It wasn’t as if it was a bad thing, it was just, well, racy. And Ron would explode.
Better Than Sex Cake!
Ginny practically had to bite her hand to keep from laughing aloud. She knew it was infantile, but she would so love see McGonagall, or Snape trying to wrap their prudish old tongues around the word, “sex”. She snorted, finally unable to contain herself.
Ginny was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she failed to see the broad expanse of Draco Malfoy in front of her.
The very hard and broad expanse of Draco Malfoy.
Goddess, she didn’t know flesh could be that hard, like marble… No, not like marble, she corrected herself, that was too trite a word to describe the sheer power of his body. More like a diamond, cold, unbending, frozen, unreachable, but beautiful nonetheless.
Ginny raised her eyes to meet his.
Once again, she’d been wrong. There was nothing icy about him. It was fire, a blaze that burned so hot it was cold.
Something glinted in the artic pool of his gaze, the fire leapt.
And Ginny could feel herself melting. Until the harsh tone of his voice jolted her from that sensual abyss.
Merlin’s Bloody Teeth! Had that thought just rattled about her head? Sensual Abyss? She grimaced.
Then she realized Malfoy was still looking at her. No doubt he’d insulted her thoroughly, and there she was gaping like some moon-eyed calf.
“What, nothing to say Weasley?” His brow arched in engineered perfection, as she knew it would.
Ginny straightened. “I don’t have time to play today Malfoy. Things to do, you know.” She lifted her chin and looked down her nose as if he were the veriest of all rabble and made to push past him.
“You didn’t hear a damned word I said.” Then the devastating set of his mouth curved into a smirk; the trademark Malfoy expression that was, of course, beyond predatory.
Ginny paused, as if she actually considered what he was saying. But that was her mistake. That was when her tongue got the better of her and she confirmed, blatantly, what he suspected.
“Nope. You’re right. I wasn’t listening. I was considering your shoulders.” Ginny could have swallowed that traitorous appendage. Perhaps she needed a good, sound smack. Maybe if somebody rattled her teeth hard enough, it would jar her loose from whatever stray demon that had set up housekeeping between the synapses linking her brain and her mouth.
There would be no such luck, as her mouth continued to move. Especially upon seeing the knowledgeable conceit cross his face.
“You have a body to die for Malfoy. Yes, you do.” She fanned herself a bit. Then she took a step forward, as she ran her fingertip across the braw of his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He was conceited, true. And in his mind, what girl didn’t want to be shagged by Draco Malfoy? But he wasn’t stupid. That was something no one could accuse him of.
“What’s your game Weaselette?”
“Oh, that’s right. I remember now. Such pretty wrapping, but once you tear it open, there’s nothing there. Not even a Sickle. Let alone the Galleons that you spent on your personal trainer.” She jerked her hand back as if she’d been bitten. “No, not at all as pleasant to touch as it is to look at.”
Ginny sniffed delicately as if to punctuate her disdain.
Though, she admitted, even as the words were out of her mouth that she’d been lying. Gods! It had been near to impossible not to run her hands down the length of his back and then up into that platinum curl that swept behind his ear.
“Liar.”
He closed the space between them, but Ginny wouldn’t back down. She titled her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes clear and unflinching; though it took all the gumption she possessed to do so.
“Brave little Gryffindor.” He whispered maliciously next to the delicate pink of her ear, his breath hot and soft, an erotic dance across the flesh.
Then his lips hovered across her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
Ginny licked her lips in unconscious anticipation. Her body knew what she wanted, what she needed, before it was a coherent thought.
His scent wrapped around her, his heat radiated through her every sensor and she arched herself into him, allowing him what he would have taken.
“Oh yes, little girl. You better run back behind your brother’s cloak or the Big Bad Slytherin will get you.” He taunted.
“So get me then.” Her words were meant to be controlled and blasé, but they came out in breathless invitation.
As soon as the words escaped her, she found herself with her back pressed against the cold stone of the wall, Draco’s arm around her waist and his lips, demanding and harsh.
Her own arms had snaked around his back and were gripped into the musculature of his finely made shoulders, as the radiating heat that had taunted her before pooled in a rush between her thighs. She dreamt of things in that moment that no chaste girl should ever conceive of, let alone desire. Ginny opened her mouth for him, her feminine shape pliant in his grasp. She was unable to keep her eyes open as the air seemed to be crushed from her lungs and all she could focus on was the sensation of Draco Malfoy.
The reality of it seemed to shock them both to awareness at the same time.
He was the first to catch his breath; the first to speak. “What’s under the wrapper seems to intrigue you a bit more than you’d let on, Weasel-girl.” The smirk returned and he strode away looking rather pleased with himself.
Ginny’s cheeks flamed. The indignity…
Oh yes, the indignity… the phrase set her to thinking. Better Than Sex Cake? Perhaps Better Than Malfoy Cake would do the trick.
-finis-
Better Than Malfoy Cake (Better Than Sex Cake)
1 yellow cake mix (eggs, oil, water, however the recipe on the box calls for)
1 large can crushed pineapple
1 Cup of sugar
2 small packages of instant pineapple or coconut pudding (this author recommends the pineapple)
3 Cups of milk
8 Ounces of Cool Whip
1 Cup of coconut and 1 Cup of nuts (tastes just as yummy without these, add if it is preference)
Prepare and bake cake as directed on box for a 9 x 13 cake. Cool completely. Cook pineapple and sugar for ten minutes, pour over cake. Poke holes in the cake so the mixture will be soak in. Mix pudding and milk; beat for two minutes. Pour over pineapple layer. Cover with Cool Whip. Sprinkle with coconut and nuts. Refrigerate. Enjoy!