Chapter 8 – Baby Look What You’ve Done to Me
Nothing happened in the way I wanted
Every corner of this house is haunted
And I know you said that we’re not talking
But I miss you, I’m sorry
i miss you, i’m sorry, Gracie Abrams
Cassiah left the locker room shell-shocked and humiliated, with the watchful eyes of nearly the entire Quidditch team on her as she did. She had
known Ron would be jealous – upset even – but she’d hoped it would be more in the angry-sex, revelation-of-hidden-feelings type of way. She had never expected this... Ron had never been genuinely angry with her before about anything less trivial than him being late for a date. Never like... this.
Instead of making things better and moving towards a happy ending, Cassiah had managed to make things a hundred times worse. Actually, a hundred times might have been low-balling it.
She hated herself for doing that to Ron, for letting that mean, vindictive part of her brain rule over her. She had never once acted with the explicit intention of hurting another person before this. On the contrary, she had always considered how her actions might potentially indirectly hurt people and had let that dictate her actions to a fault. That had been something Ron had always told her he loved about her – her big heart. There was no way he still thought that highly of her now. Not after what she did tonight.
She retrieved her notes from where she’d folded them and tucked them into her pocket. She entirely expected them to be wrinkly and dirty with food stains and stray ink marks, and she wouldn’t have been mad – that’s just how Ron was. But when she unfolded them she found that aside from the creases from her own folding, they were in just as immaculate shape as they had been when she gave them to him. She’d surely been expecting them to have gotten beat up in his bag over the past few days, but no. He’d taken such care of them...
Now she felt even worse. Here Ron was, trying to be respectful, and she had completely disrespected him.
But also... had she?
Sure, she’d intentionally led him to believe that she was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to make him jealous, but aside from the fact that it was a lie – which Ron did not know – was it disrespectful for her to be in a new relationship? The more Cassiah thought about it, the more at peace with herself she felt. Even if it hurt Ron to see her with someone new, he had ended things with her on his own accord, and she had every right to date without regard for his feelings when he had disregarded her feelings entirely when he broke up with her. Ron wasn’t in charge of her anymore (not that he ever really was).
She felt bad that her actions made Ron feel upset
on the night of his big win. Her timing could certainly be better. But in the long run, Cassiah knew she wasn’t a villain here. Just because Ron hadn’t spilled gravy on her notes that she’d lent to him as a favor, that didn’t make him a saint. That was the bare minimum. If Cassiah wanted to publicize a relationship with Malfoy, that was her right as a single woman.
When she finally returned to her room, Draco was waiting there for her. This came as no surprise – they’d planned to meet tonight after the match to let each other know how their little scheme had played out for the both of them.
From the look on Draco’s face, Cassiah didn’t wanted to have this conversation.
Draco was relaxed back in Cassiah’s desk chair, looking all too pleased with the world for Cassiah’s liking. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to be happy — she truly did. She just didn’t want to have to look at it when she’d never been more miserable. Even though she wasn’t entirely in the wrong, Ron still had made it clear tonight that he hated her, and that was the worst feeling in the world.
Still, she had to be a good friend to Draco and listen. Merlin knew he’d listened to her enough over the last month to make any man lose his mind. Surely, she could bare 3 minutes of his gloating.
“How did things go with Pansy?” she chirped, trying to act excited on Draco’s behalf.
Draco fought back a wide grin as he sat up straighter in the chair, “Definite progress. She stormed up to me after the game and totally flipped me off.”
Oh. That’s... not exactly what Cassiah was expected, but also not entirely surprising. “And that’s a good thing because?” she queried.
“Because everyone knows that Pansy is the meanest to you when she wants you,” Draco explained as if it were the most obviously thing in the world, and he had a point. Every time Draco and Pansy had dated before, it had started as a hate-fueled hookup.
Cassiah felt Draco’s icy eyes examining her face, her body language, her demeanor, and she shifted awkwardly between her feet, not exactly sure how to break the news.
“Ron totally hates me,” she burst out, her eyes immediately filling with hot tears, “I ruined this amazing night for him, and we got into a huge fight in the locker room. Draco, it was awful!” she cried as Draco rose to pull her into a hug. “I’ve made things so much worse than they were before. The other day when I gave him the notes, I felt like there had been progress, and now all of that is gone. He probably feels better about breaking up with me than he ever did before, based on how he seemed tonight.”
Draco shook his head and forced Cassiah to look up at him, “Listen to me, Cass. Ron will come around.”
Cassiah looked at him, eyes big and confused, and whimpered, “What-”
“Maybe not as your boyfriend. But he doesn’t hate you, and he’s not going to be this mad at you forever, I promise. He’ll realize that he can’t be mad at you for trying to move on from him when he’s the one who forced you to.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Cassiah sniffled, finally pulling away from Draco’s arms. She wiped under her eyes and smiled softly at him, “I’m sorry you didn’t win the Quidditch match. I know you boys were working pretty hard all week.”
Draco shrugged it off, a smirk playing across his lips, “It’s alright. I think I’m about to score somewhere else, anyhow.” He winked and Cassiah screamed, punching him the arm and telling him how gross he was for talking about her friend that way.
When the laughter died down, Cassiah plopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She and Draco sat quietly for a moment before she sighed and sat up again, brushing her hair behind her eyes.
“I think we need to call off the deal,” she said suddenly, and Draco snapped to look at her, bewildered.
“Cass, everything with Pansy is so close to working out. Like so close,” he pleaded, but his tone showed that he had already accepted defeat. He wouldn’t pressure Cassiah to do something she didn’t want to.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Cassiah confessed, running her fingers through her hair with stress, “I just know that things aren’t going to get any better with Ron if I keep doing things to purposefully piss him off. He’s going to be mad at me, and I’m going to feel bad about myself for having bad intentions against someone I care so deeply for.”
“I still don’t get the whole caring-deeply-for-a-Weasley thing-” Draco kidded.
“But I care about him,” Cassiah explained, “And I don’t want to make an enemy out of him. I’d much rather be friendly, because I can work with friendly. There’s potential there. But not with enemies – I can’t work with enemies.”
“If that’s what you really want, then we’ll stop. I can find another way to get through to Pansy,” Draco conceded. “Even though I did have some pretty genius ideas to mess with him and Potter.”
Ron was fuming.
He was so angry he barely even remembered the walk back to the dorms; he’d been blinded by white-hot rage.
Now, with the sounds of the music and cheering from the celebration happening in the common room, he had something else to be mad about. This was supposed to be his big day. He’d practically won the game for them. This was his celebration, and he couldn’t even enjoy it because he couldn’t stop thinking about Cassiah and Draco.
How long had they been seeing each other? How long had Draco had feelings for her? Was it serious or just a fling? Had they had sex, or just messing around?
If he was being honest, the last one was what was really bothering him the most. The idea of Cassiah being physical with someone else made him feel physically nauseous. They’d both come to believe and said out loud that they never wanted to have sex with somebody else again, that this was it. Since she sadly wasn’t his first, Ron wanted Cassiah to be the last person he ever had sex with.
Sex with Cassiah... Merlin, there was nothing better.
Sex was always a stronghold in their relationship. When their sex life was good, so was everything else. In the locker room, Ron had been reminded for half a second just how good things between the could be.
He’d been standing there, shirtless and sweaty, with Cassiah backed up against the cool lockers. She’d looked up at him through those big, hazel eyes and thick lashes, and his heart had softened. She’d let her glance fall down to his lips, his chest, his abs, and something else hardened. Despite how furious he was with Cassiah, his body remembered this position, and was hungry for her.
There was nothing but a mere few inches of space between their lips. Ron could feel the heat that was radiating between their bodies, the electricity that was pulsing in the air.
So he closed the space and kissed her. He’d grabbed her face and held her still and finally crashed their lips together after so long. His other hand snaked up to hold both of her hands above her head against the lockers. God, it felt good to be in control after so long.
They were both quiet except for their harsh panting, neither one wanting to make a sound and break the magic of the moment. That is until Cassiah pulled away from the kiss and Ron felt her lips hover over his ear. Her hot breath sent shivers down his spine, and his bit his lip when he felt her tongue run over the shell of his earlobe. Then suddenly, she sucked his earlobe into her mouth and nipped at it and Ron let out the filthiest moan of his life, “Nnngh, ohhh Cassie baby...”
Apparently, Cassiah remembered exactly what buttons to push to drive Ron crazy after all this time.
When she’d finished her teasing of Ron’s sensitive neck and ear, Ron decided that it was his turn. He reached below and grabbed one of her legs, harshly hiking it up to hook around her waist. Bloody fucking hell, he loved whatever sick bastard had invented uniforms with knee-high stockings. They framed Cassiah’s long, tanned legs like a glove and then pinched her thighs so perfectly that he just wanted to bite.
Ron trailed his right hand up her leg, snapping the stocking against her flesh, and continued on. He gave her a thigh a squeeze before letting his fingers dance ever-so slightly over her skin, causing her to let out a sigh and her eyelids to flutter. His fingers teased slightly at the spot right where her thighs met her core before pressing against her center through her panties, which had already grown damp. She whined slightly, rotating her hips under his touch. Ron needed to be inside her right now. But he had to tease her a little first. She wasn’t completely off the hook for her behavior earlier.
His fingers pushed her panties aside and found her clitoris right away. He was an expert on Cassiah’s body and hadn’t forgotten. His fingers on her were unrelenting, drawing tight circles that he knew would drive her crazy on the line of pleasure and over-stimulation. “Ron,” she let out a high-pitched broken moan, “Ron please, I can’t- I can’t-”
He continued for a moment before letting up, swiping his fingers through her folds to gather up her wetness. He pulled his soaking fingers out and brought them up to his lips, sucking and humming in appreciation at the taste.
“Ron, I need you,” Cassiah breathed heavily, her cheeks flushed and breasts heaving underneath her low-cut Slytherin shirt.
“Should’ve thought of that before you ruined
my match,” he shot back, “Thankfully I can think of a way for you to repay me.”
She whimpered, anxiously awaiting Ron’s punishment. “Bend over,” he’d ordered, featuring at the locker room bench where his bag was sitting.
Cassiah immediately obeyed, leaning over the bench and looking back at Ron over his shoulder. He knew that innocent look in her eyes was anything but the truth and it just made him want to fuck her more. He unbuttoned his uniform pants and pushed them down just enough to take out his cock and give it a few good pumps.
He ran the tip of his cock through her slit, teasing her and lubricating himself with her slick. She cried out at the feeling over his head pushing into her, and then moaned his name as he bottomed out.
He left her with little time to adjust because he couldn’t hold back, but he knew his girl could take it. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her from behind and she was hovering over the bench.
He felt her walls quivering and heard her cries and knew that she was nearing her peak. He was thankful for that because he knew he wouldn’t last much longer–
“Godrick, Ron, I-I’m so sorry!” Neville shrieked, immediately spinning around and facing the opposite wall.
Ron felt his face and ears turn bright red and he thought he might pass out from embarrassment, despite the fact that his cock was still throbbing under the covers.
“Neville, bloody hell! Why aren’t you at the party?” He spluttered, trying to hide even farther under the blankets than he already was. He’d let his imagination run wild, and he couldn’t help but be a little pissed at Neville for having the world’s worst time and barging in right when he was about to... well, you know.
“I could ask you the same question,” Neville reasoned, now blindly searching through his stuff with one hand covering his eyes.
“You can uncover your eyes now, you massive twat,” Ron threw a pillow at Neville, but both boys knew he was mostly joking. “And I think you know why I’m not at the party,” he reasoned, blushing again.
“Well,” Neville replied, awkwardly running a hand through his hair, “I reckon you might as well come join it now, considering.”
Ron raised his eyebrows in half-amusement, half-annoyance, “Yeah, I reckon so.”
Neville stood there, waiting expectantly for Ron to follow him. Both boys just stood there for a moment, waiting.
“Well, get out then, and let me get dressed!” Ron shouted, shooing Neville out the door. He threw on his sweatpants and his Quidditch jersey and mumbled to himself, “Merlin, I am getting so drunk tonight.”