The weekend after the match was Valentine's Day, and a Hogsmeade weekend. The castle was full of couples all planning what they were going to do in the village. Harry and Ginny were going for a meal in the Three Broomsticks, as were Hermione and Ron. Kathryn, obviously, had no plans and wanted to stay away from what she considered to be a far too sickly-sweet celebration. She waved goodbye to the four of them as they reached Hogsmeade's main street.
Whilst they continued on towards Honeydukes, she veered off the street, sticking the earphones of her iPod in as she went; heading up from the village towards the caves where Sirius had once hid. She wandered in, catching a glimpse of some shreds of an old Daily Prophet in the gloom, before continuing on until she reached the top of the hill that looked down over the village.
It was completely deserted, no couples taking a romantic stroll thanks to the icy February wind whipping across the hilltop. Bushing off its light dusting of snow, she perched herself on the edge of a solitary boulder. With the mellow tones of a French song drifting through her ears, she watched the village below. The few students that were out of doors were reduced to small figures, wrapped up in bright scarves and hats, meandering through the snow. She could have shouted her terrible secret at the top of her voice and none would have heard.
She was quite surprised when someone sat down next to her, not really expecting to have company in such inhospitable weather. Turning her head, she took in the sight of his blond hair and cane with an expressionless face. She did not smile, but neither did she frown. Inside, however, her heart was fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement; somewhat matching the change of tempo in her music. Clicking the little device off, she stowed it away in the pocket of her cloak, and then there was only silence and the howling of the wind. In the awkward silence she came to the unhappy realisation that, on a day dedicated to love and romance, she was going to be spending her time with a Death Eater.
"Any particular reason for the glum face?" he asked as she stood and walked over to the edge of the slope. "Or just my presence?" she was tempted to say the latter, but today that would be a lie.
"Everyone has someone today." She sighed as she gazed wistfully down at the village below with the couples milling through the streets, her hair blowing out behind her. "No one even asked me." Without a word, he came to stand behind her and took one of her cold hands in his.
"You have me." A tear trickled down her cheek as he spoke the inevitable truth; his arms sliding around her waist to lock her in a tight embrace. He turned her round slowly, holding her tight to him as he wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes. A second later they disapparated; reappearing at the foot of his bed with the deep green hangings.
She again noted the curtains covering all the paintings as he tossed their cloaks aside. He smiled as his fingers found their way underneath her top, feeling the rigid boning of the corset-like underwear she had decided to put on that morning. Of course, she had not chosen such a thing without thought. She had deemed it unlikely that he would appear on such a day, but she did not think him completely incapable of exploiting such an opportunity. She had put it on in the full knowledge that he would like to find her wearing it. And somewhere, deep down inside, she was pleased; happy to know that she gave him pleasure.
With her top lying in a heap on the floor he dropped onto his knees before her, still holding her close. Her hands rested on the shoulders of his crumpled white shirt as he kissed her skin through the blood-red lace and silk of her underwear. His fingers, meanwhile, undid the buttons of her jeans and slipped the worn denim from her hips. Once they had been kicked across the room he stood before her once more, his hands taking in the texture of the smooth silk and soft velvet trimming of her underwear. She smiled as his lips feathered across her collarbone, his breath tickling her skin. He moved again so they were cheek to cheek, his mouth near her ear; she waited for what he was going to say.
"At least you came prepared." He whispered seductively, sending shivers running up her spine. He kept his head there, as if he had more to say; but instead of speaking, his teeth found the soft flesh of her earlobe and bit down. She gasped in shock as she melted into him, her arms draped around his neck.
Sliding her hands over the soft cotton of his shirt, her fingers deftly undid the buttons and slid it off his shoulders. It was a move that startled even her, having never made any kind of move in their previous encounters. He did not seem to mind, smirking in satisfaction as his hands loosened the lacing that ran up the back of her underwear. He worked quickly, apparently quite proficient in the speedy removal of such items. She shivered again as his hands stroked over her now exposed skin, his touch sending a jolt of excitement through her body. Advancing upon her until she had no choice but to climb onto the bed, she waited there patiently; her cheeks already flushed with anticipation.
She did not protest as he moved on top of her, flinging the rest of her underwear aside, but not taking his attention off her form beneath him. Instead of waiting for him to take what he wanted, she urged him on; running her hands up his lean torso, pulling him closer. All the while she returned his kisses, dragging her hands through his hair and wrapping it round her fingers. She uttered no words of complaint as he rocked her slowly beneath him, and if she cried out it was not in pain, but in pleasure.
They slept for a couple of hours afterwards, both entirely spent of energy; Kathryn resting her head on his shoulder and her palm flat on his chest. He looked for a long while at the girl sleeping in his arms, brushing her tousled hair out of her face, his other hand stroking down the gentle arch of her back. Other people could have their picture perfect wives; he would be content just to have her.
He caught her at about two o'clock in the afternoon tiptoeing slowly across the room, wrapped in a bed sheet and gathering up her discarded clothes. While her back was turned he moved silently around behind her and coiled his arms around her slender waist.
"You don't get away that easily this time." He whispered in her ear, having been most disappointed to find his bed empty after her last visit. The top she was holding fell back to the floor as he dragged her back down onto the bed, holding her firmly beneath him and taking what he wanted. She gave it to him, no question, not even complaining for the way he roughly handled her.
An hour later she finally managed to tear herself away from his grasp, picking up the wisp of red lace that passed itself for underwear and pulling it on. After a few moments of clumsily fiddling with the laces, she stood holding onto one of the ornately caved poles of the four-poster bed as he laced the corset up once more. She gasped as he pulled them as tight as they would go, his fingers lingering on her skin for longer than they should.
Resisting his entreaties for her to stay longer, she wrapped her cloak defiantly about her shoulders. He bade her goodbye with a small kiss on the cheek, discreetly slipping something into her pocket, before she apparated back to Hogsmeade with a small 'pop'.
She reappeared back on the hillside, looking back down on the village. It was only then that she let the tears roll freely down her cheeks, slumping back down onto her boulder, crippled by guilt. She wished that he was cruel, that he would hurt her instead of tormenting her with tender caresses. She could cope with pain, she had done so on many occasions, but the emotional pain of what he did felt like it would rip her in two. Scrubbing the tears from her face, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself before standing and heading back down towards the village. Her breath rose in front of her as she reached the village and the students that were still milling around.
"I may have you." She said bitterly to herself as she walked. "But I will never be anything more than your plaything. And I will never know love."
She dug her hands into her pockets against the icy wind, touching on something hard and cold that had not been there before. Pulling it out she found a silver ring set with a large, blood red stone that she had seen him wear on a few occasions. It was weighty in her palm, the stone seemingly glowing in what was left of the weak February sunlight. Slipping it on, she found it a perfect fit, although it had probably been resized for her finger. The large stone, that she supposed was a ruby, did not look out of place on her hand; being substantial enough to stand out, but minimal enough not to be too conspicuous. It did bring a small smile to her face, but she also saw the irony in giving her a ring set with a stone that was thought to be representative of love, for she knew that he would never feel anything of the sort for her.
The main thoroughfare in Hogsmeade was crowded with students, all of them wrapped up against the icy wind, clutching bags from Honeydukes or Zonko's. She squeezed through the crowd of students still filling Honeydukes to replenish her stocks of sweets and browsed Scrivenshaft's for a new quill.
Her stomach turned as she wandered into a side street, not really paying attention to where she was going, and found herself walking straight towards Malfoy and his cronies. Her hand curled around her wand in her pocket as he advanced, Crabbe and Goyle following in his wake along with Pansy Parkinson.
"Well, well." He began in his usual smug voice. "What have we here? Little Miss Potter all on her own."
"Sod off, Malfoy." Her tone was disinterested, completely cool.
"Oooh, harsh words Potter, don't strain yourself!" Pansy Parkinson squealed from behind her boyfriend. Kathryn craned her head to look past Malfoy at Pansy, who was still sporting her horrible haircut.
"She didn't take your advice then?" she raised an eyebrow at Draco, a devilish smirk upon her face. "Or did you neglect to tell her?"
"Tell me what? What didn't you tell me Draco?" Pansy screeched in an angrier tone this time.
"His father thinks that you should get rid of that mess you call a haircut." She said quickly before Malfoy could stop her, looking at Pansy with an expression of feigned sympathy on her face.
"What!" She shrieked, glaring at Malfoy.
"Well, um, you see-" He stammered.
"You look ugly, basically." Kathryn added, pretending to be helpful. "I agree with him too. I mean, I know he's a Death Eater so we generally don't see eye-to-eye, but I really can't say anything in your defence." Pansy could do nothing but open and close her mouth in shock, looking startlingly like a fish as she did so.
"You think you're so big, Potter, getting your picture taken with my dad and Fudge. Just because you've got a stupid scar." Malfoy spat, anger blazing in his eyes. "You're a lying bitch too." He said, trying desperately to salvage the situation with Pansy.
"Now, now, language," she chided, giving a disturbingly accurate impression of the tone Umbridge had used when addressing miscreants, "wash your mouth out." Taking the idea from her father and Sirius, she whipped out her wand.
"Scourgify." She said lazily, flicking her wand at his sneering mouth. Coughing and gagging, garish pink soap suds foamed from between Malfoy's thin lips. She giggled whilst the other three fumbled for their wands, hurrying to stop the spell.
"You'll pay for that one." He said, levelling his wand at her and doing his best to be menacing. The effect was spoilt, however, as the remnants of the lurid bubbles dripped form his chin as he spoke.
"No. I don't think I will." She gave him a sympathetic smile, as if talking to someone very stupid. "I mean, there may be a sudden outbreak of wand slipping if you do that, and I really think you have all had your fill of the hospital wing for the moment." She said, referring to the DA members who would wreak their revenge if he dared curse her.
"Well, at least I've got people who want to be with me today. Looks like you're not wanted."
"I am." She snapped quickly before realising her mistake. He had gone for the easiest of insults and it had found its mark.
"Oh, touched a nerve, have I?" he smiled wickedly; Crabbe and Goyle grunting with laughter behind him whilst Pansy gave a high-pitched cry of amusement.
"No one wants to be with Potter, do they?" he walked closer towards her, a cocky spring in his step as his eyes washed over her with an expression of disdain. "Not really," he paused, "desirable." Pansy giggled stupidly in the background as she and Malfoy glared into each other's eyes. "I mean," he turned back to look at Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, "I heard that she lives with an ex-con as well as the Weasleys. Now who would want that stain on their family?"
She desperately wanted to scream back at him that his Father didn't seem to mind but she held it in, knowing that it would not be the best course of action.
"You know nothing, you pathetic little worm." She replied in a dangerously calm voice, not taking her gaze off him. "Why weren't you at the England match then?" she asked quietly, a tone of mock curiosity in her voice.
"My father only had one ticket, that's why." He stated defiantly.
"Wrong." She shook her head. "He had two." She held up two fingers to illustrate her point. "Now, what was it he said to the Minister?" she paused, as if trying to recall some unimportant shard of information. "Oh yes, your school marks 'do not warrant such a privilege'."
"Liar." It was the only thing he could think of saying. She shook her head and began to move past them. As a second thought she stopped level with Malfoy and whispered silently in his ear.
"And he gave the second ticket to me." She paused a moment and smiled in cruel amusement at the stunned look on his face, then continued on walking.
"If only you knew," she said quietly to herself once she was out of earshot, "If only you knew." With a heavy heart, she rejoined the throng of students and shoppers and meandered back towards the path leading up to Hogwarts.
She lay awake late into that night. She knew she shouldn't have said that to Malfoy but, then again, she knew that he would never tell anyone for the simple reason that it would make him look stupid. He was supposed to be the constantly favoured and indulged son. Should the knowledge that his father had given the ticket to her as opposed to his own son be made public, it would be impossible for him to live it down.
Also keeping her awake at such an unsociable hour was the fact that, for some reason, she did not feel the crushing self-loathing that she normally would. Instead she lay curled up beneath the covers, wearing the white cotton shirt that he had worn in Dubai. She was turning the ring around in her fingers, marvelling at the way it seemed to glow in the moonlight. She thought of Harry, Ron and Hermione who, at this point, were lying asleep; blissfully unaware of the increasingly complicated tangle her life was becoming.
"What would you say if you knew what I'd really been doing?" she whispered to herself, gazing at the ring in her fingers. "What would you say?"
She froze as she heard Hermione stir in the bed across from hers. She lifted her head up, as if she had heard something, and then replaced it moments later. Kathryn replaced the ring on her bedside cabinet and snuggled further into the deep red covers of her bed. She smiled to herself as she inhaled his scent, still lingering round the collar of his shirt, and slowly began to drift off to sleep.