"Obsession"
PAIRING: Ginny/Cho
RATING: R to NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
NOTE: This is an old fic, when I was a less experienced writer... well, you'll see won't you?



I look up in the dim candle light of the room. My green eyes are mesmerized by the shadows on the walls. I feel something stir within me, the darkness slowly enveloping itself around me, hugging me close to it's breast; loving me, owning me. I poise my quill over the parchment, and a strange bout of giddy anticipation grips me: I begin to draw.

My tongue pokes out of my lip as I start with your flowing raven hair, trailing somewhere past your strong shoulders. The ink is smooth on the white paper as I begin your jaw line, making sure to dust your cheeks with a blush before moving on to your delicious lips. I color in your onyx eyes, then the seductive arch of your brow.

I move to your body, making sure to get the swell of your breasts just right, as I make the first button of your blouse open - as it always is, even in the winter. I draw the jutting bones of your hip, leading to the pleated gray skirt, which tapers in to long gorgeous legs. I finish your knee socks, and quickly sketch your feet. I hate the shoes you always wear, I see them whenever I pass you and look down. I see your stupid little shoes with their polished buckles. They make me want to scream. Little perfect Cho Chang, with her little perfect shoes and her little perfect breasts and butt...

I stifle my thought, pushing down my hormones for a few moments longer as I flick a stray red hair out of my face and admire my work. You look beautiful on paper, then again, you look beautiful in real life. I smile to myself, a small hint of wicked intentions behind it. I reach behind me for the leather bound book and flip expertly through the molding pages. I reach the spell I want and blow the dust off the page. I take out my wand.

"Apographon." Swish, flick, point.

My drawing twitches, and for a moment I think I've done it wrong, but it slowly rises off the floor. With a silent explosion it glows gold. The paper shivers and twists and the drawing distorts. It stills and glows blue. I glance back at the book.

"Colorare." Raise, point.

And suddenly my drawing is color, filled with the exact replication of your golden skin, capturing the onyx in your almond eyes. The blushing pink is adorning your flat cheekbones, your lips are wine red. I smile as the picture glows red. This is the last step.

"Vivere." Point.

The paper around my drawing is suddenly gone, and you are standing in front of me, Little Miss Perfect Cho Chang in all her glory - mine, all mine. I smile, and admire my handiwork, walking around your duplicate appraisingly. Your eyes follow mine with no emotion. I look at you questioningly, then remembering, I laugh to myself, "Libido." Instantly those deep orbs are filled with lust, wanting, need - all for me, all mine. I motion for you to come to me, you advance obediently.

I lean forward and kiss you forcefully. My tongue strokes the inside of your mouth roughly. I can make you feel what I want you to feel, I can make you exist when I want you and most of all I can make you die when I want you to. My hand wanders down to caress your upper thigh, and you moan in response, just like I had imagined you would on all those cold nights in my bed. My hand touches the coarse hair, winding my fingers in it and tugging sharply, laughing cruelly as you gasp in pain. I extend my creamy finger into you, stroking your clitoris lightly, grinning smugly as you writhe in my arms, begging softly for more. I dip another finger in the oasis within you--more throaty noises escape your lips. I press harder, looking for that fleshy nub. I curl my finger around your pelvic bone, finding your g-spot. I press my finger against it hard, then I release. Your head is thrown back and I guide your hand down to work your clit as my hand is buried inside of you. You masturbate with abandon as I lower my head to suck on a dusky nipple.

You come hard, gushing fluids, drenching me with your juices. I bring my finger to my lips, lapping at your taste experimentally. I see your eyes darken and I offer my finger to you. Your wicked tongue spirals around it, dragging the rough surface over my soft skin. I drop my head back and my mouth falls open, looks like the tables have turned.

I fall away from reality, you and I playing in the dim light that is my room, taking the night with us. And finally we lay down, exhausted and sated. I whisper to you, "Amare" and the light in your eyes changes, softens and you hold me tenderly in the dying light as the dawn around us awakens.



End