Ginny Weasley Thinks She's In Love
by msscribe

Rating: NC17
Ship: Draco & Ginny
Canon: Books 1 - 4
Genre: Angst, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 19,980 words in 9 chapters
Published: 16 Jan 2003
Last updated: 20 Jan 2004

A collection of steamy short ficlets/ snapshots into the relationship of Draco Malfoy and his favorite redhead. They
will be written in different points of view, some in first person, some in present tense, others in past tense. Warning:
These are VERY NC17 .

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/139/

------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. Introduction

Introduction:

~~~~~~~~

The ficlets to follow are a collection of short stories written in different points of view giving glimpses into the
relationship of Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley before my novel length fic "Requital". They are very detailed, and I hope
you find them beautiful, but please do not read these if you are under the age of 18. Thank you.

Best regards,

Msscribe

Pictures currently being drawn to illustrate this collection will be found at http://www.geocities.com/sarahkjames2003

------------------------------------------------------------------------

2. Fairy Hunter

The Fairy Hunter

They had this game they used to play for hours on end when they were just children. Ron would tromp around the yard with
a stick carved to look like their father’s wand and he’d go “fairy hunting”.

Ginny was always the fairy.

She’d hide in various places, leaving hints as to where he could find her, and when he did, he’d tickle her into
revealing to him what secret treasure she had hidden, usually one of their Mum’s collectable figurines.

Sometimes it felt like they were still playing games, but she couldn’t let Ron catch her this time. He would never
understand.

The first time she spoke to Draco Malfoy alone, it was so dark that she got no more than a glimpse of his scarlet face
and pale blonde hair. Sweat gleamed on his body and chest, and desire curled inside of her, despite her initial
revulsion of who she knew him to be.

Draco was walking back towards the castle, after sneaking out for a late night run. His guard was down, or else he might
have collected himself and brushed past her.

He didn’t. Instead he approached her. He told her much later that he thought she was some lovely witch he hadn’t met
before, and didn’t recognize her until he’d gotten so close it would have been awkward not to speak, so he did.

“That hot-headed brother of yours hasn’t put a curfew on you yet Virginia?”

She sat in shock at first, not quite believing that his tone was almost civil.

“You know nothing about me Draco Malfoy, and I am very much my own person,” Ginny rebuked haughtily. “Besides, I’m just
sitting out here drowning my sorrows after that potions exam I had today.”

She was sipping a butterbeer, and hiding from her chatterbox roommates.

He stood over her, and she thought she saw something resembling understanding flash in his eyes.

“Makes perfect sense,” he said.

Then he made the offer.

“If you’re tired of sitting out here, I was just about to open a bottle of wine,”

Coming from anyone else, it would have been a nice gesture. Coming from a Malfoy, the gesture was highly suspicious. But
his eyes were so sincere, and his smile was so inviting.

She accepted.

#

2:36 am that morning.

On the wall opposite Draco Malfoy’s bed there was a small desk chair draped with clothing, an empty bottle of vintage
red wine, and a picture of Narcissa Malfoy. Draco lay between Ginny’s legs, licking her. She trembled. He plunged his
face between her thighs, gripping her buttocks with his hands.

She gasped. Her hands clung to his shoulder blades, bringing his head back up to her mouth. She pulled her arms above
her head, gripping the pillow as he slid into her.

They came together that night, writhing like snakes. When she stood to dress, he only seemed slightly disappointed with
her leaving.

“I’m not much for goodbyes,” she said.

She was feeling a little sick for giving in to physical desire so quickly.

“So don’t leave,” he said, pulling her down beside him again, with sincerity uncharacteristic of him.

#

At breakfast, Ginny was at her big brother’s side. She forced herself not to glance back at the Slytherin table. Ron was
telling Harry and Hermione an obnoxious joke he’d heard while they were in Bulgaria visiting Charlie. Harry found it
amusing, but Hermione just shook her head.

Ginny couldn’t remember the joke, but she did remember feeling a hand caress her back lightly as someone hurriedly
brushed past her. She forced herself not to turn around.

The contact had gone unnoticed by everyone else at the table. Ron tousled her hair and took a left over biscuit from her
plate. He still looked at her like she was six years old. Ginny wasn’t ready for that to change.

She took a blank page from her notes and began to write. She was very good, after all at playing games.

#

12:13 am the next afternoon, they decided to skip lunch.

Ginny dropped her backpack onto his dresser. They were holding each other’s gaze with unwavering control, unsure about
what exactly they were doing.

Draco walked slowly towards her. He reached over to her shoulders, gently pulling her body into contact with his. Her
arms met his, embracing him. Her breasts were pressed against his hard chest, her pubic bone to his hardening cock,
their thighs touching. They began to kiss, slowly and gently at first, and then with a sweep of his tongue, he took her
entire mouth in his. He moaned, and moved to nibble her ear. Robes were quickly discarded, and they lay against one
another, seeking out the radiant pleasure from the day before.

He kissed and licked her belly down to the top of her underpants, grasping the elastic band in his mouth and pulling
them off.

Then he stopped. Taking Ginny’s hand firmly by the wrist, he pulled her to her feet and she knelt before him, taking him
in. She had only done this once before, with her first boyfriend who she had eventually lost her virginity to in fifth
year. Her ex had a bitter taste she found only tolerable, but Draco was different. His taste was like syrup, and she was
dizzy with his smell.

Draco moaned continuously now as she lay back onto the bed to wait for him to take her. His body pushed into her hard,
stilling into a strong thrusted orgasm that seemed to last for minutes. He was lost in her skin, fascinated by the
desire that raged within this picture of innocence.

#

Ginny lay next to Ron, kissing his forehead.

“Wake up big brother,” she said playfully.

Ron swatted her away. “Christ, what time is it?”

Ginny stood and yanked the blankets off of him.

“It’s already ten and we told Mum we’d be at the Burrow by noon!”

Ron groaned and threw a menacing look in Harry’s direction.

“Why do you let her in here?”

Harry laughed, “So I don’t have to wake you up. You do realize you can be a bit cranky don’t you?”

Ginny giggled, and started to toss clean clothes at her brother. He smiled reluctantly and grabbed her by the waist,
tossing her onto his bed.

Merciless tickles.

“Alright…Alright. I’m sorry!! But hurry up please,” she said, near exhaustion.

She loved Ron. Ron was like her twin. They held hands, shared secrets, cried on each other’s shoulders. To him she would
always be this little girl. To him she would always be in need of protection, shelter. To Ron, she would always be
little Ginny.

She loved Ron, and that he saw her that way. She couldn’t see Malfoy anymore. Ron’s anger wouldn’t kill her, but she’d
die if Ron looked at her with the same disgust he had for Draco.

“I’ve found you Fairy! Now you have to tell me! You have to tell me what you’re hiding”, Ron used to say pinning her to
the ground. Ginny would struggle against him for a few minutes, trying to tickle him back. Then she’d give in and tell
what she had hidden.

She watched him toss a few more things into his overnight bag, and he held up two sweaters. She pointed to the blue one.
His eyes connected with hers for a moment. He saw her sadness and responded with a questioning look.

I can’t tell you my secret this time Ron

#

“We can’t,” she told Draco two days later.

She didn’t expect him to look so hurt.

“I guess I knew you’d eventually put a stop to it,” he said “It was beginning to become a bit confusing and distracting
for me as well.”

Ginny was contemplating ways to take back what she had just said. Draco just stared through her. She walked out, regret
building up inside of her.

#

“Ginny, you’ve been a little down in the dumps. Is everything all right? Is it the Holiday’s coming up?” Ron asked one
week later.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” she replied.

She took his hand.

“I love you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

They were used to this sort of affection.

“I love you too sis,” he said, returning her kiss and putting his arm around her shoulders. “You know you can come to me
if you ever want to talk.”

She shoved her other hand into her pocket, pushing down the map that Draco had given her that evening. A tiny lamp
marked where his room was at Malfoy Manor. She had told herself she would throw it away, but she couldn’t. Not when she
still caught him staring at her.

“I know Ron. I know,” she said, falling into the crook of his arm.

Some things need to stay hidden.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

3. Eyes Wide Open

Eyes Wide Open

Ginny keeps her eyes open the whole time. She is the first girl he remembers making love to who has done so. What a
wonderful quirk, he thinks. Draco kisses her sweet lips with all the tenderness he can muster, unable to fully express
the epiphany he has just experienced.

The cover of his bed is rumpled, neither bothering to pull it down to uncover the sheets. He stands to pour himself a
glass of water. He’s covered in her scent. His throat is hoarse and dry.

“Do you have a bathtub in this enormous place?” she asks, sitting up now.

He nods and points to the door in the corner of his room. She runs the water and he can hear her getting in. He decides
to join her. His small tub barely contains the two of them.

He soaps her, his hands lingering over her breasts, lathering them until they shine like pink pearls. She lies back on
his chest and sighs. Draco tries to manipulate himself into a position where he can enter her, but the tub is too small
and so he closes his eyes, thinking about the exquisite beauty pressed against him. He runs his fingers through her
tousled hair and sucks in his breath as she wraps her hand around him..

A surge passes through his body and he lets her control him for a while, her soft wet hands gliding across his erection.
He slips a finger into her sex and feels the unbearable heat there. She moans softly.

“You’re so sensitive,” he remarks.

“I know, I know,” she replies.

#

She makes it back to the Burrow in time for the Weasley’s annual Christmas Party, and he sulks around most of the day.
He doesn’t bother asking when she’ll return, or even if she’ll return. To be honest, he hadn’t expected her to visit at
all. Giving her that map had been a desperate act of wishful thinking, so when he had heard the tunnel door opening up,
his blood had surged with anticipation.

He is still daydreaming about their most recent encounter. He decides that he wants her, despite the consequences.

Lucius comes into his room, his face flushed, something about wanting Draco to accompany him to an important meeting.
He’s put off by his son’s melancholy mood and decides he’ll have to force him to leave his room today. He doesn’t do it
out of concern for the young man.

It’s Christmas Eve after all.

His Christmas is filled with expensive gifts, all from his mother who has dutifully signed his father’s name to a few of
the tags. Lucius doesn’t bother to join them for Christmas dinner, but Draco prefers it that way anyhow.

He buys something for her. Pink pearl earrings that he thinks will go with her red hair. That’s when he realizes it
isn’t just the sex.

#

He masturbates often, thinking of her endlessly and recalling desperate images of her body, her taste, and the fiery
color of her hair. Draco has to wait six agonizing days until she visits again.

As soon as he sees her face, she bursts into tears unexpectedly, and he clumsily attempts to comfort her.

Her eldest brother Charlie has been killed by Death Eaters. He thinks of the mark on his father’s arm and shudders. He
is terrified that his father is involved somehow.

She seems to know what he is thinking, and lets her head rest against his chest. She doesn’t blame him.

She came into his life like a powerful wave, but he doesn’t want her to be the wave anymore. He wants her to be his
ocean. He wants to be surrounded by her all of the time.

She calms down some, and kisses him. He feels like he should hold back, but she urges him on. She wants to be comforted
like this.

He makes love to her as gently as he can, kissing her face, tasting her salty tears. He holds her afterwards, abandoning
their usual post coital games, and he just listens. She describes her family, and he suppresses the pang of jealousy he
feels when she talks about her parents.

Draco doesn’t say much about his family life. Living with pain is a boring story.

She confesses that her body aches for him, that she feels like she can’t concentrate as much anymore. She hates lying so
much, telling her family she’s going out with a friend or going shopping in Hogsmeade.

Draco nods. He hasn’t had to lie to anyone except Pansy Parkinson. She had come to visit him right before the holiday
break. They were occasional lovers, for convenience sake. He turned her away, not aroused by her anymore. He told her
hadn’t met anyone else. Pansy was angry, but not heartbroken. She didn’t love him.

#

“Your eyes are so beautiful, they’re such a lovely shade of silver when you’re above me, making love to me,” Ginny says
two weeks later.

“They’re nothing special,” he answers, but he obsesses over this remark.

She is still under him and he is hesitant to move. She allows him to linger.

“I don’t think we can do this when we go back to school, it’ll be too hard,” she says, letting her sense of guilt take
over.

“Don’t. Let’s not talk about this now, lets just let whatever happens... happen.” He kisses her.

Draco isn’t willing to let her go that easily. He needs her against him, around him… underneath of him. She sighs,
relents and kisses him back.

“I still can’t believe this has happened. I can’t believe I’m Draco Malfoy’s lover,” she whispers.

He wonders, when they are found out, will he be able to do the decent thing and just fade away…letting her get on with
her life.

#

The winter has deepened and their break is over. Draco sees Potter and Weasley walking towards him. He panics for a
moment, then quickly musters up an appropriate sneer.

“Malfoy,” the red head says. Potter utters the same.

“Well, if it isn’t the dynamic duo…” he begins, earning a snicker from Goyle.

Harry shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not going to beat around the bush Malfoy, but rumor has it that you know something
about what happened to Hagrid.”

“Not a thing,” Draco replies truthfully, “What’s happened to that overgrown ape anyhow?”

Ron tries to grab him, but Harry stops him, for some reason believing Draco.

“Hagrid is missing, and I swear if we find out you know something you aren’t telling, us I’ll kill you myself.”

Draco shakes his head, laughing a little, and walks away. He truly detests these “holier than thou” do-gooders. He can’t
bring himself to hurl insults at Ron thou, and Goyle notices. He thinks Harry might have too.

“What the hell was that? You didn’t even hex them!” Goyle says.

“I don’t have time to deal with Weasel and Potty. I’ve decided not to waste my breath on them anymore,” Draco replies,
saving face.

Goyle nods slyly. Draco thinks he couldn’t have picked more idiotic people to be around.

#

They find Hagrid’s body a week later. Ginny tells him it was an accident. Hagrid was killed by one of his own beloved
creatures. Draco is just glad he isn’t another victim of the company his family keeps. Ginny is broken up about it
though, and he is glad he’s there to comfort her again.

Draco is just grateful that she still comes to him. He has had to make excuses to be alone, to leave Goyle and Crabbe at
lunch, to feign sudden illness. She is worth it.

They have an unspoken agreement now. No false promises, no whispers of marriage and family. No “I love you”.

Draco is aware of what his father would do to him if he found out he is with a Weasley. She is aware of how her family
would react as well.

He reaches for her once more that night…making love to her with her brilliant blue eyes wide open.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

4. After The Dance

After the Dance by msscribe Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter,
associated characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers. Fanfiction
is fiction—it’s not meant to be taken seriously in the least.

~

Hermione held me the night before, not pushing me for answers as to what had brought me to her room at one a.m. in such
a state. She let me sleep over, and told me that no matter what had happened, things would get better. I wanted to tell
her so badly what was wrong with me, but she wasn’t just my best friend. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to keep
something like that from Ron.

I had finally found the courage to end it with my secret lover that night. I reasoned that it would be easier to forget
about him after he graduated in a month. I couldn’t stand looking into Ron’s eyes anymore, constantly lying to him. Ron
had asked Lavender Brown if she knew if I was seeing someone. He suspected I was keeping secrets. He was starting to
look at me differently.

Hermione woke me up with a cup of hot tea and breakfast that she had smuggled from the kitchen.

“Ginny…are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Hermione’s eyes were so warm and understanding.

“I can’t. But I’m alright…I swear.”

She looked a little relieved. “Good, you should be pretty up about tonight. Dean is quite the date!”

I smiled then. Dean really was quite a catch, and I had agreed to go to the Spring Dance with him back in September. I
was excited about it, and Dean and I had gone on a couple of trips to Hogsmeade together. We had even shared a few
kisses. That was of course before Draco. When Draco and I had “happened”, I had unconsciously put a lot of distance
between Dean and myself. I was surprised last week when he asked if I was still going with him.

#

Dean was the perfect escort. I flirted with him a bit, leaning towards him when he chatted with Justin and Neville. He
kissed me, and it was civil, friendly…even chaste. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting at our table as well. Ron
looked over at me protectively, and I thought to myself that if he had known who it was I had been with these last few
months he’d be pushing me into Dean’s Arms.

Hermione was gorgeous. Both Ron and Harry kept sneaking glances at her. They had joked around that they were attending
the dance as a “triad”. There was more truth in that than any of them would have been willing to admit.

Draco walked in with Pansy Parkinson. She was beautiful. So was he. I instantly began to analyze her posture and
attitude. She had her lanky arm draped through his, and she kept trying to capture his gaze with her wide, brown eyes.

Confronted with this reality, I lost my smile. Draco looked over at me, the pupils of his strange gray eyes quickly
darting around, trying not to stare. I felt my nerves giving out, and I squeezed Dean’s hand.

“I’m going out for some air,” I said.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No…I’m fine. I think Parkinson’s perfume has made me nauseous,” I replied, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear.

Hermione laughed, and swatted me on my arm.

If Pansy did hear it, she ignored it, and she and Draco moved towards the dance floor together. I couldn’t stand to
watch it, and I was happy to feel the crisp night air hit my face as I stepped outside.

I sat down on a stone bench right outside of the back door. I allowed myself to sit for a while, and let my tears fall
freely. I could easily fix my makeup later.

“Don’t let these things get you down dear,” the bench said.

“Thank you, I’m doing my best not to.”

#

I returned to Dean as stunning as I was when I had walked downstairs to meet him. A few quick tears were all I needed to
gather my strength again. We had a wonderful time, and I managed to block out Draco and Pansy at the other end of the
hall. The famous Mistress Lyric was singing the last song of the evening. Dean pulled me to the dance floor.

“Would you like to have a few butterbeers after the dance?” Dean asked, his eyes hopeful.

I smiled apologetically. “I think I’m too tired, but we should have dinner in Hogsmeade next week.”

Dean accepted this concession. I felt guilty for leading him on. I wasn’t ready yet to take another lover. I wasn’t sure
if I’d ever be ready, but when I saw Draco and Pansy leave together, I leaned in to kiss Dean. His breath was smoky and
dark, not bittersweet like Draco.

“I’ll walk you back,” Dean said.

Dean was ever the gentleman. We chatted for a while outside and then he walked me back to the common room. I gave him
another kiss right before I began the walk upstairs.

“Next weekend then?” he said.

“Sounds wonderful.”

#

When I reached my room, I found that my roommate had left a note on the door.

Gin - I’ll be back tomorrow evening, Pig came earlier with Post for you - Susie

I opened the door, and Draco was sitting on my bed. He was still in his dress robes.

“I needed to see you,” he said, his voice very low, “I told Susan it was about school…but I think she knew I was lying.”

I was furious that he’d take a risk like sneaking into Gryffindor tower.

What if someone had seen him? How dare he talk to my roommate? She’d have plenty of questions the next day.

“I want you to leave.”

I closed the door behind me. The dorm seemed empty. Most people were outside sneaking butterbeer, and besides the
occasional laughter rising up from the common room, it was unusually quiet.

He didn’t move. He wouldn’t stop staring at me.

I was shaking as I walked over towards my dresser. Draco stood up and walked behind me. I turned to tell him off, but
somehow I ended up falling against him. And then we were clutching each other, breast-to-breast, mouth-to-mouth. The
need I felt the first time he ever touched me, and the intensity with which it rushed all through me was so powerful
that I thought I might faint.

Slowly, letting myself rest in his embrace, I came back to myself; back to him. I had never experienced anything like
the thin, sweet lips that parted against mine.

His hands, strong and quick, moved over my body as we kissed. Draco became quickly impatient with the barrier of my
dress, which was little enough: a tiny purple strapless number that Angelina Johnson had described as deliciously
sinful.

One of his hands, which had returned again and again to cup my bound and covered breasts, began swiftly moving around to
the back to reach for my zipper.

I wanted very badly to be naked in his very capable hands, but not in Gryffindor tower -this was crazy.

“No,” I gasped and pulled away.

He reached for me again, and I pushed him off. He looked slightly stricken.

“I thought we’d…don’t you –?”

I shook my head. “We can’t keep doing this. We agreed that we couldn’t keep doing this. This is hard enough for me –”

Draco put his hands on my hips and pulled me tightly to him. His erection felt enormous, “I can’t seem to let you go. I
saw you looking at me tonight. I saw you glaring at Pansy. I also saw you kissing him to get back at me. Your lips
belong to me Ginny.”

His body’s solid mass was tight against mine. His hands continued to caress my thighs. In a haunted and distant voice,
he began to tell me a story in short hot breathes as he let his mouth glide over the nape of my neck:

“Pansy and I were dancing when she made the offer to go back to her room. I went with her, but when she kissed me…my
mouth went dry. I felt nothing. I tried to imagine she was you. I couldn’t get the way you looked tonight out of my
head, so I told her I was sick and I left. I used to be turned on by her. I fucked her once at a Weird Sister’s concert,
with a crowd of people around us. She hadn’t worn any underwear with her skirt that night so it was easy, I just got her
to stand in front of me. Nobody knew what we were doing…they were too busy dancing and watching the performance.” Draco
had hiked my dress up at the front and was tugging at the elastic of my panties – which were now soaking wet. “My point
is that everyone is too caught up in his or her own lives to notice us. We can do this Ginny.”

“We can’t,” I said.

I had a fleeting thought then, of Ron coming upstairs to make sure I was all right. He was sure to notice I wasn’t there
drinking butterbeer with the rest of them, and I was always one for butterbeer. I said no, and when I pulled away he let
me go.

“What do you think you’re doing to me?” I said, trying to pull myself together.

“Nothing compared to what I want to do.”

We stared at each other, both of us burning up from frustration. He pushed me up against the door and we kissed again.

“No…” I whispered so softly that I wasn’t even sure if he’d heard it. His hands were urgent now. My dress was now
unzipped, my bra undone, my nipples teased until they were aching to be touched again. I surrendered, momentarily
undone.

Then I imagined the look on my parents face if I told them about Draco Malfoy. Ron’s disappointed face… I woke with a
sickening shock. I’d always been such a good girl. Wonderful marks, nice friends, courteous boyfriends. I had only one
lover before Draco, and we had been an item for a long time. I was supposed to fall in love with a wizard from a nice
family, someone I could bring to the Burrow for Christmas, someone who wouldn’t grow up to become a Death Eater.

I tensed then, and fought off his hands. He let me go again and stood now, his arms to his side. I pulled my dress up to
cover myself. I was dizzy with desire and his eyes were still unwavering on mine.

“I’m not going to rape you Ginny,” Draco said.

He had read me like an open book. He wasn’t going to make me do what it was we both wanted to do. He wasn’t going to let
me escape the guilt that came every time I was with him voluntarily. He wanted me to make a choice.

His gaze fixated me. He eased me up against the door again and I stood very still, quivering. “Do you really think we
can be together?” I said, sounding almost hopeful.

“I think it has to be easier than not being together,” he replied, his hands under my skirt again. He pulled at my
panties and peeled them down my legs. I stepped out of them when they reached my ankles.

His touch was as soft and smooth as his voice as he found my wetness. I watched him watching me as he stroked my
clitoris. The door was hard against my back and my thighs began to ache as I rode his hand, his familiar hand that knew
me better then I knew myself. He watched me the whole time, my face twisting as he muttered compliments about my
freckles and my breasts.

Sharp, painful, and intense, the orgasm flashed as I cried, and yelled, and mussed his silver-blonde hair. His hands
were all over now, rougher than the last time we were together. Greedier. He pulled me hard against him and his dress
robes fell to the floor around our feet.

We held our breath, as we heard footsteps walk up to the door we were leaning against.

“Ginny? Is everything all right? I thought I heard you yelling.” Hermione’s voice said.

She sounded so concerned.

“I’m fine…I’m just not feeling all that great,” I said, hoping my voice sounded convincing enough.

“Do you want me to come in?” she said.

I tensed up. “No…No…I promise I’ll come by in the morning.”

There was a minute or two of dreaded silence. Draco began to caress me again, his mouth moving to my nipples.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Hermione said finally. We listened as her footsteps rounded the corner to her room.
He turned me around and led me towards my bed. He pushed my back against the comforter. White daisy’s that my mother had
picked out my first year at Hogwarts. Before I could even catch my breath he was parting my legs that were dangling over
the edge. I lay still and let him position me as his stripped out of his underwear.

I was wet and willing, but I wasn’t expecting such force as he buried himself into me.

“Ginny…” he said, repeating the word over and over again.

I lost all sense of time as we made love, making up for the space between us at the dance that night. Sometimes my name
came from him in a gasp, sometimes in a guttural moan as he drove us both over the brink.

It was the first and only time we ever made love in my room. Draco managed to sneak out before daylight came, and I lay
in bed waiting for the sun to come up alone.

I saw Ron later on that afternoon, and when he asked how I was feeling, I gave an honest answer.

“The dance just lasted longer than I thought it would…that’s all.”

It's still going on.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

5. Reluctant Savior

Reluctant Savior by msscribe “Just because you can make me come, that doesn’t make you Jesus.” Tori Amos   ~

“Do you enjoy humiliating me?”

I thought at first that it was another one of my nightmares, this particular one taking the usual tone of my father’s
voice. Then the pain bit into me and I came awake with a muffled gasp. Lucius was standing by my bed with his trusty
silver knife in his left hand. The cool blade gleamed with blood. He had cut a mark in my arm, and the blood was
bubbling up like red sweat.

I tried to speak. The gag he had placed on me reduced my words to muffled groans.

“I should slash your throat right now, and save myself the embarrassment you’re bound to cause me later on,” Lucius said
caressing the blade across my throat. The pressure against the blade was barely enough to dent my skin, but it was
painful nonetheless.

And in an instant, my gag was gone and the curse that bound me to the bed was lifted.

My father laughed.

“Let that scar be a reminder that we keep our appointments.”

He left, and my mind searched for a reason. Why did he feel it necessary to come all the way to Hogwarts just to torture
me? What had I done? Where hadn’t I gone? I kept coming up blank.

I stood and watched the blood run down my arm for a few seconds. Goyle. I was supposed to meet Goyle in Diagon Alley and
it had completely slipped my mind. That son of a bitch must have told his father.

I walked down the hall and into the bathroom. The mirror reflected walking death and was about to say something
insulting no doubt before I threatened to hex it to a million pieces. I turned the brass knob and let the cool water run
over my arm. The cold felt better than I thought it would and I wanted to fall into it, and let it freeze the rest of
me.

#

When I walked into the Great Hall that morning, squeezed between my two nincompoops, I couldn’t stop myself from looking
for her.

Finding her wasn’t a difficult task. Ginny stood out like a beacon. The knot in my throat was beginning to hurt. A
million times I before I had tried to analyze what it was that Ginny and I had. Maybe it was desperation, and we were
just uncomprehending witnesses to the mad urges of our bodies. Maybe it was more. It was the more part that tore me up
the most.

Even I, Draco Malfoy, couldn’t pretend that I was just fucking her, but I couldn’t very well admit to anything else
either.

Dean Thomas walked over to her then and draped his arm around her shoulder. I admit that I felt a pang of jealousy when
he did this, but I turned away trying to force myself not to let my eyes wander towards her anymore.

“What's the matter with you lately?” Crabbe said.

“Nothing, why?” I answered as we sat down at table.

Pansy Parkinson walked in, flipping her hair at me. Then she sat down next to me and put her hand on my thigh. I let it
stay.

“Terence Higgs fucked me so hard last night I thought he ripped me in two,” she whispered.

We bantered like this sometimes.

“I didn’t know you liked it like that.” I replied indifferently.

She let her hand travel up a little farther.

“It turned me on so much that I almost wet myself.”

I gave her a teasing glance. She let her tongue lick her top lip seductively. Pansy Parkinson was a crotch-grabbing,
mattress-humping witch whose breathy squeals used to blast through my ceiling whenever I felt the urge. I suppose she
had noticed that I hadn’t felt the urge in a very long time and decided to remind me of what I had been missing.

“I didn’t know you could be such a slut,” I answered, looking away from her. She noticed when I broke our stare.

“What a short term memory you have Draco,” she answered, laughing and standing to get up.

She could sense I wasn’t into playing anymore, but I was grateful for the momentary distraction. At least Crabbe and
Goyle were now too busy stuffing their faces to question the change in my usual demeanor.

#

Ginny began to talk to me in that sweet voice that made my hair stand on end. We were talking about the night, the full
moon, and her impending potions final.

“You are going to help me aren’t you?” she asked.

It was true, potions was my specialty. I had even edged out Granger for the highest grade last year. I would most likely
do the same for our final year.

I rolled over onto my stomach and let her scratch my back softly with her neatly filed nails.

“Yes, I believe I can make time for that.”

She laughed at me, a small giggle ending in a tiny choking noise that I had grown quite fond of.

“You sound so formal. Even while we lie here after fucking half the night away, you talk to me like we’re sitting in
class.”

I smiled at her, now rolling back onto my side so I could slip my hand between her thighs and stroke her. With my lovers
past, I used to spend this time sleeping deeply only moments after my orgasm. Somehow, I always remained awake with
Ginny, holding her and touching her.

We would alternate talk with lazy sensuality, lingering somewhere on a slow plateau of arousal that didn’t necessarily
demand release. We had been doing this for almost five months now and it seemed that we still hadn’t grown bored with
these bouts of touching and kissing that led to sex so languid that our lovemaking was almost tantric in it’s restraint.

Ginny’s lips glistened. Her eyes were still fixed on mine. I let my finger glide around her clit in small quick circles
and listened as her breathing changed to sweet little pants. She tried to reach for me, but I pushed her hand from my
thigh. I wanted to watch her come without the distraction of being touched.

#

Goyle had a newspaper in one hand, and his suitcase in the other.

“Your not packed yet?” he said.

“For what?” I asked, still not dressed, “It’s Wednesday morning for God’s sake.”

Goyle walked in and flicked open the paper. A moving picture had some wizards and witches running from an exploding
building.

“My dad told me to get ready to take a long weekend. He told me there would be some heavy activity here at Hogwarts this
afternoon…” he said smiling smugly, “He also said you’d be coming with us.”

I looked at the photo again. It was an attack in Diagon Alley, the same day I had forgotten to meet up with Goyle. Now
they were coming here.

“Not that we couldn’t have used your help in Diagon Alley, but I think it went over pretty well…don’t you? Dad says he’s
got a nice reward in mind for me.”

Goyle ran his hand through his greasy hair. I gritted my teeth at his remark.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this before?”

He looked at me strangely then.

“I would have, but it seems you’re letting your personal business get in the way of your responsibilities. Pansy says
you’ve even shut her out… Dad says-”

I wrapped my hands around his thick throat and slammed his body against the wall. He was a weakling. He was larger in
mass, but I knew he wouldn’t fight back.

“Watch what you say!” I spat at him; “If I ever hear of you talking about my personal business with anyone again I swear
I’ll torment you until death!”

Goyle looked resentful, but nodded. I let him go. “I’m not leaving with you…personally, I prefer to stay here and watch
which way the blood splatters.”

I forced myself to say the last, knowing that not leaving with him would arouse some suspicion. I also knew my father
would understand if he thought I was experiencing morbid curiosity. Hell, he’d probably even be proud of me.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed…much. I wonder how many mudbloods and Gryffindors we'll take down today. I say it's
time we cleaned up Hogwarts a little,” Goyle said slamming the door behind him.

I was starting to sweat. There would be an attack. I slammed my fist against the door.

“Dammit Ginny!” I said under my breath as my knuckles began to swell.

#

“What do you want Malfoy?” Potter said, as I walked up to him, alone for once “No goons today?”

I didn’t want to been seen talking too long to lightening-bolt head.

“Look Potter, I have some information for you so I expect you will use it wisely, although it might be expecting an
awful lot.”

I couldn’t stand to be around him, but I knew boy wonder wouldn’t betray any confidence, even mine.

“There is going to be an attack here today.”

Harry Potter looked at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

“Don’t over think this Potter. Just do something about it. Tell anyone I'm the one who told you and I’ll deny it and
never give you information again.”

He nodded, understanding my desire not to have a lengthy conversation or the obligatory “why I’m doing something good”
talk with him. Speaking to him without cursing him under my breath was already beginning to make me nauseous.

“Agreed,” he replied.

We stood face to face, not quite knowing how to proceed with this conversation. It seemed I didn’t have to say much to
make him understand. I turned quickly and walked away, hoping no one had seen me, hoping that no one had noticed the
world as I used to understand it fall into hell like a dead Dementor.

She was the reason.

#

The ministry had come and gone, foiling any attempts to attack Hogwarts that day. They had found enough explosive potion
to blow Gryffindor tower sky high. Harry Potter was hailed as a hero again. He and Ron Weasley had "come across" plans
to attack the school. I watched as they recieved pats on the back and hugs from their friends.

All through dinner, when I was sitting at the noticably less populated Slytherin table, Potter kept giving me these
irritating looks of gratitude. He was mistaking me for someone who cared about the lives of himself and his little
groupies. I only cared about her.

I ate in silence, disapointed that she wasn't there.

#

I took a long hot shower, soaking in the reality I had found myself in. Traitor to my family, traitor to my "friends".
What had I done? Finally turning off the water, I reached for my towel and walked down the deserted Slytherin hallway.
When I opened my door, Ginny was sitting on my bed illuminated only by the moon.

“Were you Harry’s source?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.

I was uncomfortable in this role. The part of hero was more suited for crowd pleasers like Potter and her Weasel
brother.

“You’re here earlier than you usually are,” I said ignoring the question and immodestly removing the towel wrapped
around me.

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to know if you told Harry about us.”

My back was to her, but I could see her worried expression in the mirror.

“No, of course I didn’t.”

She smiled and lay back onto my bed.

“You graduate in two weeks, and then there's the summer holiday. I had a long talk with Susan about us. She knows. I
trust her. I want to go away for a week.”

This didn’t surprise me. It would have been impossible to keep her roommate in the dark any longer, especially since
Ginny had been staying the night recently.

“So then go,” I said, not yet understanding.

She laughed a little, and sat up again.

“I want to go away with you. I’m going to tell my family I’m doing some traveling with Susan, and you can make something
up as well. We can travel, maybe the Muggle way, and just get away from everything. We can pretend to be a nice
respectable couple.”

The blouse she was wearing looked good on her. It matched her hair and her lips.

“Maybe.”

She began to unbutton the blouse, and I watched her, half-mesmerized.

“You’d have me all to yourself for a week. No distractions.”

She stopped unbuttoning and reached over to the glass of pumpkin juice I had sitting on my nightstand. I ran the comb
through my hair vainly and looked back at her in the mirror. She was drinking it in small sips, looking at me still. At
last, I went over to her and took the glass from her hand. Rather than put it back down, I took a drink, pooling some of
the sweet nectar in my mouth and bent to kiss her…sharing it with her. She sucked at my tongue and allowed herself a
soft purr of pleasure, realizing we had only just begun.

“I’ll need some convincing,” I said.

She moved close to me, breathing heated kisses onto my stomach. Her hands wrapped around my waist and she moved her head
so she could coil her soft pink lips around my cock.

I set down the glass, and let my fingers trail around to the nape of her neck , through her flame red hair as her
delicate fingers tipped with soft pink enamel trailed lightly up and down the base of my shaft, stirring me beyond
measure.

I had to force myself to pull away, especially if I wanted to experience more of her.

“Let me undress you,” I said to her, and she let her hands fall limp to her sides.

I removed her clothing from her slowly, letting my hand caress every part of her as it was revealed to me. She was
craving my touch now, and I was torturing her.

She fell back onto my bed and I lay next to her. She rose a little, putting her arms around me. I took her head between
my hands and led her mouth to mine. I wiggled my tongue to the back of her throat, sucking on her lips until they were
swollen.

Ginny rolled on top of me and I moved my hands to cover her breasts. Then she mounted me, guiding me inside of her in
one instantaneous motion, our return to grace.

She raised her knees, bending her legs around me and rode me vigorously until I grabbed her hips to slow her down.

I rolled over onto her and rode her in return, leaning on one hand so I could watch her bucking underneath of me. I
filled her, sliding along her walls. Our fluids mingled, our moans mingled, both coming from deeper than our throats.

#

It was raining outside. Ginny was wearing my Quidditch t-shirt and leaning against the windowsill wondering when she
should make her exit.

“It’s like liquid light when it hits glass,” she said.

It was almost dawn now.

“Did you bring anything to keep you dry?” I asked.

She smirked at me.

“Such a gentleman you’ve become Draco,” she mocked.

I groaned at this remark and sat up in the bed.

“Why don’t you wait until after first period, be late for once. We could plan our temporary escape,” I said, missing her
warmth lying next to me.

She thought for a moment. Then she walked to the bed, sliding in next to me.

“Alright,” she said, “We’ll plan our escape.”

I didn’t know that we weren’t such a secret anymore. I continued for quite some time believing only Ginny, Susan and
myself knew about us. I didn’t know Potter had pulled out his map for the first time in a year the night before,
surprised at the two students he saw together. Then, upon looking at it again that morning, had realized that those two
students had spent the entire night together. Two students whom he would have never imagined as lovers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

6. Commencement

Commencement by msscribe Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter, associated
characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers. Fanfiction is
fiction—it’s not meant to be taken seriously in the least.

“I'm ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire…
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
…and I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how
to let you go,” Sarah Mclachlan

Draco’s room at Hogwarts is absolutely bare, except for his bed, a few chairs and a desk – all of which were there when
he had arrived seven years ago. Last night they drank his last bottle of wine and made love until they were too tired to
move. They woke up the next morning sticky and smug, comfortable with quiet chatter, but in complete denial about the
importance of the day ahead of them.

Ginny is peeking over at Draco in his Graduation robes, feeling foolishly adolescent. He is sitting next to Crabbe, and
the empty chair on his other side is where Goyle would have sat had he lived to see this day. No one ever talked about
it. Even Draco hadn’t said much to her other than the fact that Goyle’s father didn’t show up to the funeral. She knew
he felt the loss, even if Goyle wasn’t the best person, he had still been Draco’s companion all of these years.

She is sitting next to her mother and father with Percy, Bill, Fred and George behind them. She is nervously twisting
her flowered dress into a knot. She does this twice more, and then tries to focus on Ron, Harry and Hermione who are
sitting two rows behind Draco. Ron waves up at them. She flashes her most brilliant smile and enthusiastically waves
back.

“Looks like you’re the only one left dear,” her mother whispers in her ear, smiling supportively.

Ginny tries to sit quietly on the long, horizontal stretch of red vinyl that lines the bleacher seats. Nobody can see
her eyes wander behind the darkened lenses of her sunglasses as she surveys the crowd. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are
sitting next to a jittery blonde witch and a large man with a bad complexion she assumes are Crabbe’s parents.

Narcissa Malfoy is beautiful, like Draco. She can’t help but be drawn in by Narcissa’s delicate features and her tall,
graceful figure. She is the very picture of refinement. Ginny closes her eyes and tries to imagine what Narcissa looks
like doing everyday things. She also wonders if that desolate look that Draco’s mother wears is a permanent fixture. Her
gaze lingers on the woman’s lips, having kissed similar ones a hundred times or more.

“Snap the picture Arthur! Ron’s about to go up!” her mother says, waving her arm in the air furiously now.

This morning Ginny had blurted out casually to Draco, “If we want to continue this…we can slip away after Dumbledore
begins the luncheon with his Welcome Great Wizards and Witches speech. If one of us thinks its better to not keep seeing
each other, then we can remain seated.” He had nodded in agreement. She hadn’t made her choice yet as to what she would
do. They had toyed with the idea of running away for a week over the summer, but neither of them had been brave enough
to make any real plans.

Her world would probably be emptier and more monotonous after he left, but the daily agony of having to cover up
something that had consumed most of her thoughts these past eight months would be gone. And the silent threat that hung
in the air since they had begun their affair, the threat of them being found out by Ron, wouldn’t seem so ominous.

Dumbledore’s voice rings out over the packed stadium as he begins to say the graduate’s names one by one. The day is
warm, but the air is as clear as spring water. Ron…then Harry…then Hermione…all take their walk across the stage area.

“Draco Malfoy,” Dumbledore says, followed by civil applause. Her stomach drops. Her heart follows.

He takes his walk. Her parents aren’t paying much attention. It only takes a couple of minutes before Draco is seated
again, but he looks up at his mother. Then he looks up at Ginny. It's a quick glance, but long enough for her to notice.

Ginny tries to stay focused. She knew there would be strong feelings, but she hadn’t expected to be overwhelmed by it.
She is shaking. Then a tear falls down her cheek. Her mother wraps an arm around her.

“Oh, sweetheart…I know how much you’ll miss Ron. But he’ll be an Auror along with Percy and Harry. Maybe you’ll work for
the Ministry too after graduation,” she says sweetly.

Ginny is relieved that her emotional outbreak is not out of place there. At least two other witches are sobbing louder
than her. One of them blows her nose into a scarf a little too close to Fred's head.

Then Hermione walks to the podium, and like summer rain, her voice breaks through Ginny’s cloud of sadness. She listens.

“Commencement means a beginning; a start…” preaches Hermione Granger, class Valedictorian.

#

Draco and his parents enter the great hall for the graduation luncheon. He looks around for Ginny, spotting her next to
her mother at the Gryffindor table. Ginny is wearing a sleeveless dress patterned with flowers that accentuate her
slender curves. Her hands are clutching Ron’s newly awarded certificate. She loops her arm through her brother’s. Ron
smiles lovingly at her.

Draco looks away then, not able to stomach any more. His mother puts her cool hand on his shoulder, and they walk the
hall, greeting those with similar tastes and lifestyles. They will never cross the aisle towards the Weasley’s. His
family’s public time is a facade designed to make them seem decent, maybe even respectable, but they still wouldn’t dare
to cross the aisle. Draco's demeanor is nonchalant, an attitude he perfected when he was barely old enough to talk. His
father leans in closer to inspect his face. Satisfied with his son's appearance, Lucius parades him around like an entry
at a county fair.

Draco can feel her eyes on him. He loves to catch her watching. Her eyelids, with their long reddish lashes, flutter
rapidly trying to look away.

#

“So what is it that you’re doing again?” Ginny asks Hermione.

Hermione tilts her head, raising her eyebrows. “I’m going to be a researcher, which means I dig up evidence and
information for people in Harry and Ron’s position. Honesty Ginny, it isn’t all that hard to understand!”

“I guess it seems to suit you, but I can’t imagine the three of you not being in constant danger together,” Ginny quips.

Harry and Ron find this amusing for some reason. Hermione doesn’t, but bites her tongue. Ginny needs an excuse to move
around. There is already a line beginning to form at the fountain in the middle of the room that is filled to the brim
with pumpkin juice.

“Anyone else want some?” Ginny offers.

“Thanks honey,” her mother says quickly, waving over at Colin Creevy’s family to come and join them.

Harry is giving Ginny the strangest looks, and he hasn’t said much to her today. She wonders if Draco might have lied to
her about him knowing, but she doubts he would have shared such a personal confidence with Harry.

Ginny looks over to see if Draco notices her moving closer to where he is standing. He doesn’t seem to. Narcissa is
still looking out at nothing, standing perfectly still next to Lucius. Ginny thinks maybe Mrs. Malfoy has mastered the
art of sleeping standing up. Feeling safer not being so near her family, she lets her eyes travel back to Draco. He
catches her this time.

His eyes are surprisingly sad. She wonders if he’s decided to end it. She hadn’t considered that he’d be the one to
break it off. The collar on his robe is open, and she can see wisps of wiry blond hair peeking out at the base of his
neck. She takes a deep breath and forces her legs to work again. The fountain is so close to them. She reaches out and
slowly curls her hand around the stem of a glass, trying not to break it.

#

Ginny’s hair is slightly mussed from being outside. Draco likes the look, although it is a stark contrast to his
mother’s who has every strand in place. Her lips are slightly parted, and she is breathing with the same slow deep
rhythm that he would often fall asleep listening to. He knows he’s caused this reaction in her. She’s moving more
swiftly now, trying to escape his scrutiny.

“Draco will be helping me in my business endeavors,” Lucius brags to the witch next to him, the mother of Millicent
Bulstrode. Her jet-black hair is sprayed into a stiff up-do and her bright red lipstick goes far beyond the natural
outline of her porcine lips. The woman leans over to kiss Draco’s cheek, and her perfume is so distracting that he
temporarily loses sight of Ginny.

#

Ginny returns to the table with their juice intact, but her psyche greatly affected. She mulls over their tentative
plans. Welcome Great Wizards and Witches… Welcome Great Wizards and Witches…The words loll around in her head like some
psychotic’s mantra. She wants everyone to take their seats; she needs for Dumbledore to officially begin the lunch. She
remains standing near the door. She sees Draco lean in to speak to his mother and walk slowly towards the other door.
He’s not looking at her now. He doesn’t want to push her one way or the other.

Filch is standing close to her, watching her. He belches and it echoes loudly in her ear. His teeth are gray and there
seems to be dirt in every wrinkle of his skin. He isn’t concerned with Ginny though. He’s too busy downing a mug of
pumpkin juice.

“Gin?” Ron says, walking up behind her. She is startled. “Don’t you want to sit down?”

She shakes her head no.

“Not yet, I need to visit the bathroom after Dumbledore starts.”

Ron looks at her puzzled for a moment, then shrugs it off. “All right. We’ll save you a seat.”

Ron is so wonderful to her. Why can't she just concentrate on him? She thinks about sitting down again.

It’s over. No more lies, no more midnight visits, no more fire…no more of his taste, no more burying herself in his
chest.

Her head is all swimmy and her feet are swelling from standing in Hermione’s chunky heeled shoes which are a size too
small, but fit perfectly with her outfit. She closes her eyes trying to forget his hands on her, but she can’t.

She remains standing.

“Welcome Great Wizards and Witches...”

Cool air blasts in as she opens the door. She walks fast, listening to his footsteps a safe distance behind her.

#

They reach the edge of the forest, near where Hagrid used to live. No one is following her but him. She ducks behind the
run down structure, and fiddles with the lock on the storage shed. It’s practically empty; they have used this spot
before. They hurry inside and he presses against her back before she can spin around to face him.

“I loved the feeling of your eyes on me,” he whispers over her shoulder.

Ginny takes a deep breath and reaches behind her, grabbing his thighs. He grabs her hips and holds her still. His head
slumps to her shoulder and he bites tenderly on her neck. She places her palm against his growing erection, giving it a
gentle squeeze.

“Draco,” she says, holding her breath in anticipation.

He spins her around and pulls her tight against him. He’s kissing her so hard now that she has to fight for air.

“I can't let you go,” he says.

“I know,” she replies.

He grabs two handfuls of her dress and begins to raise it. The first contact of his hands on her bare skin send a flash
of panic through her. He moves her hair from her forehead and stares intently at her.

“Will you still come to me?” he asks, kissing her fingertips, then moving his hand to her lips.

All the reasons why…so many reasons why not… too many reasons why…

Ginny’s breathing is complex, and very reactive to his right hand that is busy making tiny circles on her stomach. When
he kisses her again, she cannot exhale without moaning.

He presses her back against the wall and they stumble together to the wooden floor. His robes come off. Her hands slide
across his chest and he has his arms around her so tightly that she feels she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. The
ceiling of the shed is glued with square tiles, and a light coming from a tiny whole in the roof dimly illuminates the
windowless interior. Draco’s body is outlined in that small glimmer of light as he moves over her. She twines her arms
around his waist, offering her throat to him as her head falls back. Draco finds the small dip in her neck where he can
feel her pulse, and kisses it. She lifts herself against him, and he thinks he might go out of his mind if he doesn’t
make love to her soon.

“Will you still come to my bed?” he asks again

He yanks her panties down to her ankles. Her small voice subsides into a teary mumble.

"Leave the light on,” she says, not denying him any longer.

He slips his hand between her thighs. Then he pushes apart her legs, angling her beneath him. She moves obediently to
his touch, wrapping him close as he sinks into her again, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

A/N: The next chapter "Landmarks" will be lighter in some ways. Thanks to Sydney Lynne, Kristen Elizabeth, Blazefury,
Babygrrl *huggles Babygrrl*, Nappa (of course!), Sabacat, Tara, Observer, Ella, Nisreena, Lissane, 714, Davis_517,
Clarabella_21, SarahKJames, Claire, Leanne, Destiny and the lovely Evelyn who is more appreciated than she knows. I hope
I’m not forgetting anyone. **Apologizes profusely if I have**

------------------------------------------------------------------------

7. Signs

Signs by msscribe

Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter, associated characters and the
associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers. Fanfiction is fiction—it’s not meant to
be taken seriously in the least.

AN: The idea to use signs as markers to different segments came from a story by Chris Mazza called “Between Signs”. To
Babygrrl, I’ve awarded you a small cameo in this ficlet.

~~~~~~~~

Don’t Drink and Apparate!

Buy Wendel’s Home Brewed Butterbeer

2003 Zappa Fizzy Rum Swimsuit Calendar

Draco drinks his glass of butterbeer with one long draw, while Ginny lets her hand rest on his thigh. The top button on
her blouse is undone, and when no one is looking, he slips his hand underneath, teasing her. She arches her back a
little, moving down behind the table while she pretends to be paying attention to the band in the back. The waitress
rushing past them either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care.

Win One Million Galleons!

No Soliciting

All Unauthorized Magic Will Be Prosecuted To The Fullest Extent Of The Law

Draco pulls her onto his lap, never letting his eyes leave the smarmy Wizard dealing the cards. He is careful with his
bets, and wins two games in a row. When Ginny tells him he doesn’t deserve the extra money, his fingers run in little
circles over her knees, then up her thighs. She closes her legs defiantly until the next round begins.

“My Lady Luck,” he whispers in her ear.

She presses her bottom down onto him, and gives him access to the wet spot between her legs.

“Are you in?” the dealer says to him.

“No, that’s all for me,” Draco replies, looking towards the elevator.

They take it all the way to the 12th floor, but they both get off somewhere between the 9th and the 10th.

Don’t Miss The Babygrrl Band Tonight!

Muggle Clothing For Sale

No Apparating In The Main Lobby

She tells him while they are getting ready to walk down to the beach that she might be in love with him. He says
nothing, and she walks out of their hotel room in tears. The sun is hot and she has no sunglasses, so her eyes are
nothing but puffy red slits.

“Ginny! Wait!” Draco yells chasing after her.

She keeps walking, letting the sand sting her face. She can hear him catching up to her.

“Please…” he says, grabbing onto her arm.

She tries to slap him, sting him like he has her, but he catches her wrists and holds her arms to her sides. Her tears
flood her now and she sobs.

“I would die for you,” he says, not blinking.

He pulls her tightly to him and kisses her forehead. She catches her breath, and they hold each other in silence. It’s
the best he can do for now.

Slippery When Wet

Disappearing Rocks Are More Dangerous Than They Appear

Please Don’t Feed the Sea Slugs

The water is cold. Ginny is on Draco’s back and he threatens to dive in. He finally does, and she screams as she is
propelled into the icy ocean. When she surfaces, she playfully splashes him and he retaliates by pulling her under by
her ankles.

“Damn Slytherin,” she says, teeth chattering as she emerges.

He laughs and eases her close to him. She wraps her legs around his waist. She is weightless there. The sun is beginning
to set and they are the only ones out that far.

She is wearing a two-piece swimsuit that ties at the side, and it only takes him a minute to undo one of the knots.

He pulls down his shorts just enough and slides into her. The sting of the salt water makes her dig her nails into his
shoulders and they ride wave after wave.

Complimentary Wake Up Owl Available Upon Request

Please Tip The Maids

“Just use mine,” Ginny says, reaching for her toiletry bag.

Draco groans. “That’s disgusting, I’m not doing that.”

Ginny chuckles at him, “May I remind you of where your mouth has been already my dear?”

He grumbles again, pulling on his pants. She thinks to herself how graceful he is, even doing the simplest of things.

“I must have left the damn thing at the last Hotel,” he mutters.

She begins brushing her hair back. He likes the way it falls across her shoulders.

“Your serious? You’re really going out to buy one right now?” she says, still laughing.

“Yes, I am,” Draco replies, buttoning his shirt.

He has done a lot of things in his time, but no way is he going to use someone else’s toothbrush.

Enchanting Spell Books From Bulgaria!

Please Don’t Hex the Conductor

The plush car on the train is small, but cozy. Ginny looks out of the side window. She can’t distinguish the ground from
the blackened sky anymore. She is on Draco’s lap, straddling him, her chin resting on his shoulder. His cock has been
inside of her since their last stop.

She rocks from side to side as he pushes up from underneath. They don’t have to move much, as the hum of the engine
vibrates the bed beneath them.

“Can we stay this way forever?” she moans.

He sucks on her throat, leaving a mark there. “We can try.”

Explosive Potions For Sale After The Show!

All Patrons Must Be Stamped Upon Entering The Arena.

Draco pays the man at the entrance and freezes when Millicent Bulstrode spots them waiting in line. She gawks for a
moment, and strolls toward them.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, eyeing Ginny.

Draco doesn’t let go of Ginny’s hand, and she grips his tighter.

“Came to see the dancing Hippogriffs, same as you,” he answers calmly, but Ginny can tell that seeing Millicent there
rattles him.

“When did this happen?” Millicent says looking at Ginny again, somewhat amused.

Ginny looks at her feet, biting her tongue. Draco doesn’t acknowledge her question.

Millicent smirks at him smugly, and waddles off to join her oversized goon of a boyfriend, a recent Durmstrang graduate.

“Draco, I’m sorry. I wish I had noticed her before – ”

Draco puts his arm around Ginny possessively.

“It doesn’t matter anyway does it? Who’d believe her?” he says.

But there is worry in his voice.

Caramel Bunnies for Sale! (Please Read Label For Warning Before Handling Them)

Learn To Drive A Muggle Car in One Day

Ginny’s chest hurts from laughing so hard. She can’t believe they were able to enjoy themselves. Millicent was too busy
snogging her boyfriend to pay much attention to either one of them.

She sits down on the couch. Their room is decorated in red and white, like they are living inside of a candy cane. Draco
makes a rude comment about poor taste and lays his head in her lap.

“Are we going for something to eat?” she asks.

“I ordered room service.”

She thinks about complaining, but he has plenty of money. And she has other things on her mind.

She parts her legs a little, and he raises his head up, trying to read her expression.

“Need more attention already?” he asks, opening her robe so he can take her nipple in his mouth. It sounds like a child
sucking candy. Cool air is coming in through the vents along the window, and it sends shivers up and down her body
whenever Draco moves his mouth away.

Elderflower Wine

Treacle Fudge

Luncheon Special Available Until 3:00 pm

They decide to grab lunch before Ginny has to apparate to Susan’s house for the night. She owls her mother to say she’ll
be home the next day, and Draco owls Narcissa.

She buys a postcard of the Dancing Hippogriff they saw together, and tucks it away in her purse.

“I’ll send an owl on Weds. I’ll ask Susan to do it for me.”

He nods, and sips his red currant juice.

“All right.”

They talk about his plans for the rest of the summer, and her goal to ace potions her final year. Then the conversation
tapers off, their minds already reminiscing about sea slugs and red and white pillows.

Before she finally leaves him, she catches her reflection in the restaurant window. It’s funny how she still looks the
same.

~~~~~~~~

------------------------------------------------------------------------

8. The GW Suite

The G.W. Suite  by Ms. Scribe

AN: An enormous thank you to my beta, Sarea Okelani who is also a fantastic writer, and to Lissanne and Babygrrl for the
encouragement. But this chapter is for 714 and Buttaboobs, because I adore them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One week after our little excursion, I sent Ginny a single red rose with a note attached, warning her not to visit me at
the Manor until my parents' houseguests had left.

She replied two days later with a long letter.

Ginny told me that the reality of our circumstance had appeared to her all too clearly after she had returned to the
Burrow. She didn’t want to hurt her family, she felt she could no longer deceive her friends, and she feared that if we
continued to conduct a secret relationship, it would eventually become sordid and cheap. She suggested that we stay
apart for at least a month, to sort out our feelings.

I felt gutted, and answered the best I could.

Ginny,

I’ve been sitting at my desk for three hours, re-reading your letter. I wonder what it is that you’re doing now. I
wonder if you’re wearing the dress I bought for you while we were away, the one that shows off the shape of your legs. I
miss the sound of your voice.

You know that I am not a respectable person. You knew that the first night we spent together. I can’t stop thinking
about you with your damned pride and good intentions. I am suffering in silence. Is the pain of deceiving your family
stronger than the joy of us being together? I think of you too much. In the nights, on the weekends. I think about your
passion for independence, yet insufferable loyalty to your family., If this is truly over, see me one last time.

D-

When Ginny didn’t reply, I sent two roses. Another week went by, and I sent three. The hours and days were heavy and
dark, and seemed to last forever. I became distant, resigned. My mother begged me to leave the Manor for fresh air, to
watch a Quidditch match, to do anything but sit around and sulk. My father was pleased with my darker demeanor. He saw
my lack of interest in almost everything, my fog-like depression, as a sign of maturity.

Ginny,

I cannot let you fade away. The beauty of what we possessed, before your sense of guilt and craving for acceptance
convinced you leave what we had behind, haunts me. Despite what you might think, I am not evil, Ginny.

I let my mind drift back to the beach today. Your face was so full of innocence when I took you there, surrounded by
nothing but sand, flesh, and gentle waves.

Your silence is killing me. Damn you.

D-

What else could I possibly say? I couldn’t promise her marriage, and I more than understood her loyalty to her family. I
was, after all, in no great hurry to disobey my own. A part of me wanted to take my courage in both hands and knock on
the door to the Burrow, stand in front of her thickheaded brothers, and declare that I needed to be with her.

That I loved her.

I knew it even then. I sent another owl.

Ginny,

I am now the rejected lover, wallowing in self-pity. How trite.

D-

When she failed to respond, my emotions ranged from angry, to remorseful, to desperate. I’d visualize her mouth on me as
I lay in bed at night, stroking myself, managing to come. I imagined her soft breath against my thighs as my seed
dripped down onto my fist, wondering why the thought of losing her hurt so badly. When did our fall into lust spiral
into love? I couldn’t silence the insidious voice whispering in my head that somehow, someway, we should be together.

Four weeks, two days, and seven hours after I sent the first rose, she owled.

Draco,

I keep thinking of you in spite of myself. There is a party at the bar across from the Leaky Cauldron on Friday. Please
meet me there.

G-

I replied that I would arrive by eight o’clock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing her walk into the crowded room was both wonderful and terrible. The fear was there, lurking, reminding me that it
could very well be the last time we were together, and I wanted it to last forever, even if it would cost me everything
in the end. I would live now and pay later. Seize the fucking day.

“Draco,” she said, bold enough to look directly into my eyes. She was nervous, and her hands were shaking. “Dance with
me?”

I said nothing as we walked towards the dance floor. I took a quick look around. There were a few people I recognized,
but no one close enough to either of us to be of real concern. Ginny looked breathtaking, and the stoic mask I wore was
fading quickly, the edges of my anger falling away.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms around my neck, her chest pressed against mine, as she searched my eyes.

“We have things to talk about,” I said coolly.

“I know. I’m sorry, Draco.”

I looked away from her, anger taking over again. I was disgusted with myself for allowing her to control my emotions
this way.

“We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year, Ginny. Why do we keep playing these tiresome games?”

I struggled against her sensual warmth, which was torturous to my pride, but arousing to my body. The sway of her hips
to the steady rhythm of the music sent palpitations through my groin. I felt a deep longing to taste her, smell her.

“Please forgive me. I just needed time to think. Something happened at the Burrow the night I returned home.”

I pulled back slightly and stared at her, contemplating the tears that were welling up in her eyes. The lights in the
room began to spin, and the people danced faster, but we moved to the same subtle beat as before.

“Harry knows. He confronted me, and I told him it was over.”

Another witch brushed by, throwing me a suggestive glance. I used to enjoy consummating my considerable lust with
strangers whose anonymity remained intact. Ginny had changed all of that.

“Is it?” I managed. I felt a strong twinge of panic, and hoped fervently that her answer would be no.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t want it to be.”

I reached down and gently arranged her hair over her shoulders. “You look so beautiful in red,” I whispered to her.
“Don’t worry about Potter.”

Ginny sighed. “How can I not?”

I put my fingers to her bottom lip, tracing the curve of her mouth.

“Don’t worry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Ginny a few steps behind me, we made our way across the street to the Leaky Cauldron. I paid the front desk clerk,
and he handed me the key to our room. Ginny followed me like a child. When I turned to see if she was still there, her
eyes were wide and apologetic.

I unlocked the door, and reached to flick on the lights.

“No, don’t. Leave them off,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

She came closer. I wanted to tear at her body, push myself inside of her.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Draco?” she asked, coming closer.

I resisted her. I needed her to understand what she had put me through. “I can't. Every minute, I’ll doubt you. Every
second, I’ll wait for you to change your mind again.”

I stood with a pounding heart for what seemed like an eternity, awaiting either the sharpness of another rejection or
her soft caress. Of course, the other emotion that kept bubbling up inside of me was my old nemesis – guilt. Guilt,
because the sexual arousal I felt at the moment was far greater than either my fear of her leaving, or my righteous
indignation over being denied her for so long. And this internal struggle contributed greatly to my state of excitation.

“I’m so sorry.” She skipped a breath, her hands clinging to the front of my shirt. She rose up to press her lips against
mine, and a warm stream of air from her lungs came into my mouth, tasting slightly sweet. When I didn’t kiss her in
return, she pulled away from me, frustrated.

“Harry has known for months. He decided to confront me after I got back to the Burrow, and I just wasn’t prepared,” she
said calmly. “I panicked. I kept waiting for him to tell Ron.”

“Why do you worry so much about your family? If they found out they’d probably try to keep you away from me, but they’d
forgive you. If my father found out he’d either disown me or kill me. I’m the one risking everything here, Ginny.”

My words stung her, and she flushed in anger, resisting the urge to lash out.

“You’re right, you have more to lose,” she said finally. “But please try to understand how I felt.”

“You should have told me,” I whispered, my resistance to her weakening.

“I needed time to think, but all I could think about was you.”

Immense relief coursed through me.

“What exactly did Potter say?” I asked, realizing that boy wonder had caused me four weeks of misery.

Ginny shifted, uncomfortable with the question. “He didn’t say much, actually. Just told me to be careful. He asked me
if I had seen you recently, and I told him no. I’m certain her knew I was lying to him..”

I laughed a little. “Of course he did; you’re a terrible liar.”

She smiled, moving a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “I think I’ve managed to do all right. It kills me to have to
keep lying to Mum.”

There was an awkward tension then. “Are you going to change your mind again?” I said quietly, falling into a pit of
newly found insecurity.

Ginny shook her head no. Her cheeks were flushed, and she began to fiddle with the buttons on her dress.

“When do you have to be back to the Burrow?” I said, giving in.

She secured the latch on the door.

“Not until tomorrow afternoon. Mum and Dad won’t be back from their trip until then, and my brothers think I’m at
Susan’s.”

The rain beat down on the skylight above the bed. Unable to resist any more, I took her in my arms, embracing her. She
held me in return. I held her tight as she turned her head to one side, closing her eyes and exhaling.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to come clean?”

I moaned, trailing kisses down her neck. I had missed the feel of her against me.

“I suppose it depends on what you mean by 'clean.'” My voice was muffled against her skin. Ginny stared blankly at the
wall as I slowly worked more of the buttons on her dress.

“My family is important to me, Draco.”

I stopped kissing her, and my arms fell limp at my sides.

“I will make an agreement with Potter.”

“What sort of agreement?”

I reached up, touched her face, then flicked open the last button on her dress. “I’ll take care of it.”

Ginny nodded as I pulled her dress down, letting it fall off of her shoulders. We kissed, and kissed again. Never once
letting my mouth leave hers, I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the bed. I laid her down onto the comforter,
pulling her panties off and spreading her thighs. I bent over her, kissing her belly, continuing down to her red, wet
curls.

Her breath was shallow, waiting for it to happen. For a moment, I didn’t touch her. I waited until she had all but
stopped breathing before dragging my tongue over her in one long smooth stroke, darting inside of her, stopping to
circle her clit. I held her stiffened legs apart as I licked back and forth over the swollen kernel of flesh, rubbing it
ever so slightly harder in time to her increasing pelvic movements until her body tensed, and she cried out in a
high-pitched moan as her orgasm rippled through her, rising and falling.

I fell back onto the bed, unzipping my trousers as she straddled me, easing down onto my prick. I unhooked her bra and
suckled her nipples, clinging to her hips as she worked up and down, and side to side.

“Draco...Oh God…” she cried out, her voice breaking apart.

“Come for me again,” I said, tilting my pelvis up, embedding my cock fully inside of her. The rush of pleasure locked my
muscles as my flesh slid into hers. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and her knees buckled. I wrapped my arms around her
waist and began to make small movements in and out of her. Through the haze that was threatening to eclipse my
consciousness, I heard Ginny make a small mewing noise in her throat as her second orgasm hit. She tensed against it,
tears rolling down her cheeks, her lips quivering. The tension was building within me as well; listening to her gasps
and groans with growing ecstasy. I felt the familiar tightness in my spine as our motions combined, increased, and I
succumbed to the incredible bliss shooting directly up the center of my body, a white-hot current burning into my brain.
My body went rigid and I cried out, twitching and pumping inside of her.

She fisted her hands in my hair, clenched her teeth, and shuddered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sent Potter an owl, and he agreed to meet me in Muggle London. I was numb, part of me disbelieving what I was about to
do. When I arrived at the restaurant, he was already seated at one of the back tables.

“I have access to valuable information,” I said to him, not bothering to pretend it was a casual lunch between friends.

He nodded, sensing I was anxious to continue. “And what is it that you want from me?”

I looked away, not wanting him to see my newfound vulnerability. “I want you to keep our secret.”

There was a long silence. The waitress approached us and I ordered a drink.

“You don’t have to bargain for my silence, Draco,” he said finally. His words were tense.

I glared at him. “Forgive me for not having complete faith in that.”

Potter took a drink of his beer, obviously put off.

“I’ll give you information, and in return you promise your silence… and that my father will be spared in future Ministry
raids.”

I’m not sure why I asked for my father’s immunity. I suppose it was because the heartbreak it would cause my mother if
he were ever foolish enough to be caught in his misdeeds.

Potter shook his head from side to side, laughing.

“Your father is the main reason we have these raids, Malfoy.”

He put on a poker face that I found highly amusing.

“If my father is constantly under scrutiny, how can I provide the Ministry with detailed information regarding all of
his associates ‘dark’ activities?”

At least Potter understood that logic, but he took his time, sitting and arrogantly drinking his beer.

I took my drink down in three swallows.

“My time is valuable,” I said, slamming the empty glass on the table and standing to leave.

Potter stood, looked at me directly in the eyes, and extended his hand. I took it.

~~~~~~~

My father’s guests remained at the Manor for most of the summer, so Ginny and I met on Fridays at the Leaky Cauldron.
Our suite had a wine rack. Sometimes before we made love, we drank a glass, kissing and experimenting. It reminded us of
the first time we were ever together. I bought four bottles of her favorite, a robust merlot.

I looked down at the wisps of her red hair against the spotted peach flesh where her nightgown had been raised aside.
Even in the soft light, my hard definition was a vibrant contrast to her pliable softness.

“Tell me what I mean to you, tell me…” she said, her voice muffled in the growing confusion of sex, of my mouth now
devouring her.

“Nothing is as wonderful as you are – nothing,” I whispered, rolling her onto her stomach. I left her nightgown on,
loving the way the clinging fabric seemed almost translucent over the round of her bottom.

Pulling her to her knees, I massaged her clitoris, gliding over it with my fingertips. I felt such urgency, stroking
her. Unwilling to wait anymore, I purposely entered her in slow increments, holding back, before finally thrusting into
her fully. Ginny’s breath was knocked from her in a sharp cry. Making love to her this way, watching her hair swing
across her back as she took me inside of her made it difficult for me to last long enough to see her come. My body had
taken over, all rational thought erased. My heart was about to tear itself free from my chest as she gasped and shivered
beneath me. I moved my hand through Ginny’s hair and she turned her head to meet my eyes. As we found our cadence, her
knuckles whitened and her breath grew raspy. Then she began to change the tempo, coming back to meet my thrusts with
such determined force that I had to push against her to keep from falling off of the bed. She responded with an erotic
moan, bracing herself against the headboard. I thought for a moment that I would explode right there, but I managed to
hold on until she contracted around me, crying out my name, and I convulsed, my belly slipping on her sweaty back.

“Are you tired yet?” I asked after I had peaked, collapsing onto the bed. Ginny was flushed; her skin was pink from her
forehead to her belly. She looked slightly windburned, but she was radiant.

She curled up next to me, kissed me, and closed her eyes. “Yes, very.”

I kissed every drop of sweat from her throat, wanting the taste of her to last until we were able to meet again.

~~~~~~~

I was rushing to do an errand with my mother in Hogsmeade when I suddenly spotted Ginny on the sidewalk behind us. My
heart almost stopped when Ginny dared to draw nearer. She followed us into the dress shop, and I focused my attention on
my mother, who was instantly drawn to a purple gown that hung on a mannequin near the front.

My mother’s voice was so soft and sweet, so cultivated and genteel as she spoke to the shopkeeper. Ginny seemed to be
captivated by her. When my mother turned her head away, I questioned Ginny with a glance. What was she doing? Ginny
avoided my glare, pretending to examine a garment I knew she wasn’t interested in.

The shopkeeper asked if he could help Ginny, and she quietly replied that she was only looking. He quickly focused his
attention back onto my mother.

Part of me was furious with Ginny for following us. The other part understood her curiosity. I couldn’t help noticing
the contrast between the two women, although my mother would probably like Ginny, if she ever got to know her.

My mother thanked the shopkeeper, handing me her purchase to carry. As we turned to leave, she brushed by Ginny, barely
noticing the wide-eyed girl standing there.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

9. The Dress

The Dress

By Ms. Scribe

Authors Notes:This one is for Clio.Thanks to Sarea_Okelani for the Beta. <3.

***

“Wear it like this,” she whispers, as she sets down the brush, clutches a handful of my hair, and piles it on top of my
head. A few feet away are the eyes of Pigwidgeon. Pig flutters around angrily, backs away, and flies out of the room.

“We’re close, aren’t we, Ginny?”

Her eyes are pleading, sincere. “Of course we are, Mum.”

She pulls me into her chest. I miss being wrapped in her arms..

“You never talk to me anymore. I know you enjoy going out with Susan, but you and I really need to schedule some time
together. You haven’t left me just yet!” she jokes.

“I’ve just been busy,” I tell her, and adjust the hem on my dress. It is almost the same color red as the one Narcissa
Malfoy had on the day I followed her and Draco into the shop.The day we locked eyes for one single second. The day she
looked right through me.

The dress is restrained, refined.

“Your dress is lovely, but I hope it was worth it. You’ll need to be careful and take care of it.”

The dress was purchased with money I’d been saving for almost a year. A dress like this, Mrs. Malfoy might have
purchased and forgotten to wear.

“I will.”

***

I’m not prepared for where I am going. Most of the streetlamps are broken. The roads are paved with stained brick,
cracked cement, and garbage. Old newspapers, broken glass, and things far less palatable clog up the storm drains. It
doesn’t seem the sort of place Draco would want to visit for a second, let alone spend the night.

Then I see him. I momentarily lose my balance, and lean against one of the lampposts. The expression on his face is
indifferent.

“You’re late,” he says.

“Only fifteen minutes. I honestly thought I was in the wrong place.”

“You look like it.”

I smirk at him. “I got all dressed up for you.I even put on a bit of perfume.”

He doesn’t answer, but there is a hint of a smile before he nods towards a nightclub on the corner flashing with blue
light. He doesn’t take my hand. There are people around, and I can’t help but stare. I silently wonder why it is that
whores often times choose to only wear lipstick. It makes their red lips leap out from the rest of their bland faces.
They look like carnivorous caricatures that have suddenly sprung to life.

By the time we reach the door, I have given up on my futile attempt to figure out which ones are girls and which ones
are boys. Somehow, I know it doesn’t really matter all that much.

“When we get inside, stay close to me.”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here.”

“We’re doing something to help Potter. That should make you happy.”

“What?”

“Just do what I say.”

“I think not.”

He groans. “Please,” he says finally, before opening the door.

The room is filled with wizards, most accompanied by hookers lounging across their laps or leaning against their arms
possessively. Some are the same animated beasts I saw outside earlier. They are glaring at me.

“Bringing your own whore offends their sense of morality,” Draco whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice.

The phrases “stuck up” and “oohh- la-la look at the princess” are tossed out at me, among many others.

“Ignore them. They’re unimportant. The person we’re seeing tonight is all that matters. Your name is Rose,” Draco says
casually.

“Viola. If I have to pretend to be your whore, I’d at least like to choose my own name.”

“Fine, Viola,” he says as a tick of a frown creases across his forehead.

“Draco?” I ask. His frown deepens.

“Someone’s coming over here.”

An unusually tall Wizard crosses the room towards us, and I am somewhat taken aback by the suddenness of his approach.

“Mr. Malfoy,”the man says, extending his hand.

Draco takes it. “Mr. Daviz.”

“I was expecting your father.”

Draco snorts. “He’s got more important things to attend to.Surely you, of all people, understand that.”

“I doubt that, Mr. Malfoy, but since you’re here, you and your lovely guest can relay this message to him.”

Locust Daviz smiles, and then glances over at me. “And you are, my dear?”

“Viola,” I say softly. He reaches out to touch my hair. I flinch when Mr. Daviz lets his hand fall to my shoulder. I
tilt my neck, nervously, but mesmerized as he leans into my ear and whispers something I know Draco cannot hear.

“You are enchanting. You deserve more than this young man.”

I stare at Draco, at the lines of his jaw as he strains to listen to what Mr. Daviz is saying. He leans in further, his
lips hovering dangerously near the nape of my neck.

“Follow me then,” he says. I swallow and force a smile.

Draco doesn’t blink. “She’s a good deal more costly than what you’ll find here, so in the future kindly request
permission before making small talk with my escort, ” he says loud enough to illicit a few indignant eye rolls from two
whores standing nearby.

Mr. Daviz gives Draco a cursory glance.

“You’re in for quite a performance tonight.”

“It had better be short.I’ve no time for lengthy shows.”

“This one is worth the time, young Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco moves in closer to me. Mr. Daviz directs us towards a tiny door in the back. He nods at a very large man standing
near the doorway and we are let inside.We crouch down and begin to walk towards a light. Something sticks on the bottom
of my shoe and I stumble.

Damn high heels. One of my knees lands on something sticky and wet. There is a painful rock on the other. Draco grabs my
arm and tugs me back onto my feet.

“Careful.I didn’t pay for damaged goods.”

Mr. Daviz chuckles.

“I’m fine,” I whisper, feeling as if Draco is a world away.

We wait momentarily in the darkness, readying ourselves for whatever might happen next. Draco steps out first, pulling
me along behind him.

This room is more elegant than the front of the club. People are sitting at tiny round tables playing cards and throwing
insults back and forth. Women in various states of undress are drinking and staring blankly at a stage in front, even
though there are no performers as of yet.

Mr. Daviz leads us to a table in the corner. Suddenly, the lights come on. There are rising columns of sweet smelling
smoke, and in place of the familiar pattern of the club lights, there are intermittent sparks and explosions.

A tall man appears out of nowhere, and tiny birds rise into the air on burning wings. Draco sucks in his breath. My
dress gets warmer, and sweat trickles down my face. I struggle with the top button, but it won’t come undone. It’s
clinging to every part of me. It won’t let go. I whimper.

“Ginny?” Draco whispers, his voice wavering.

There is a sound. Not a loud roar, but an undercurrent. A humming, buzzing, that makes my legs tingle and my hands
tremble. My panic is followed by a show of frenzied fireworks, with no one sight experienced more than once. I can’t
catch my breath. In the instant of darkness between one explosion and the next, the entire scene changes.

I look down at my hands. They aren’t mine. My fingers are long, and slim and pale. I reach for my hair. It’s blonde,
sleek. My blood is colder. My lips feel more slender.

I can feel her. I know her.

“It can’t be.”

One moment, I’m falling, the next I’m not. One moment, Draco is standing next to me, and the next, I’m leaning into
someone who has a blade he is about to sink into my neck.

This isn’t real.

“Stop…” I manage to say, and for a second I experience nothing.

“But this is what you want,” the tall man says. He has too many teeth and his eyes are unblinking.

I feel like it will go on forever, the scenes changing before me. One move of his hand takes me from scenic beauty to
atrocity. A beautiful field of flowers one moment, a cave plastered with corpses the next. I catch a glimpse of Draco.
He is staring into space, wide eyed, horrified. The tall man is laughing.

My body is different. I feel different. The dress gets tighter. It’s suffocating me. I pull at it, try to tear at the
hem. I can’t get out.

I can’t get free.

I’m terrified that we’ve been led into some terrible trap. It is inexplicable, whatever it is that is occurring between
myself and my dress. It moves on my skin now, sometimes soothingly, sometimes cruelly. When I try to unzip it, try to
loosen the collar, it only clings tighter.

“Draco..” I cry out.

Someone shrieks, someone laughs, and darkness falls as quickly as the lights had come on.

I move my hands across my body. My freckles have returned. I’m still here. There is relief mixed with a pang of regret.
Draco’s eyes are red. His hands are shaky. Mr. Daviz is now standing before us.

“Powerful, wouldn’t you say?”

Mr. Daviz’s eyes are colder than before. “Tell your father that if he is to know true power, he will seek us out
tomorrow night. “

“What did you just do?” he asks. When I glance around the room, I notice that one man is sobbing by himself in a corner.
One woman is laughing, and dancing to no music in the middle of the floor.

“For a small price, we let our guests experience their deepest desires in their truest form.She’ll recover,” Mr. Daviz
quips.

Draco reaches for my arm.

“I’ll relay your message.”

Mr. Daviz laughs and bows. “Yes, you will.”

.

***

We’re silent when we finally reach the exit. My footsteps seem heavier the further away we get. I try to forget the
light show, but I crave it. Something in the pit of my stomach turns and I cling to the pole just outside the doorway. A
man accidentally walks into me, nearly knocking me down.

“Muggles…” Draco grumbles.

“It’s hard to leave,” I say, my hand unwilling to let go of the pole.

“I know,” he says. He pulls at my arm, and we manage to make our way across the street.

“Where do we go now?”

“We can stay at the Manor,” he says.

Something is wrong. I can feel his gaze on me when we Apparate into his bedroom.

“I’m tired.Let’s just get some rest,” he says, not looking at me.

“Draco?”

I put my hand on his shoulder. He pulls away. I don’t bother to ask him what he saw. I know he’ll just find a reason not
to answer.

He pulls off his jumper and sits on the bed.

“I’m tired as well,” I say quietly.

He grumbles something inaudible, and climbs into bed. I unzip the dress, let it fall to my ankles, and climb in beside
him. We settle into separate corners. I consider wrapping my arms around him, but I let him alone.

The wind has dropped. I can hear the sound of trees scraping against the walls of the house and the raucous cry of some
unknown creature.

***

I wake up before him, and the first thing I look for is the dress. I get out of bed, pick it up, and drape it over the
footboard of the bed. It is so unlike me, so very different from anything I’d ever worn before.

I shiver as I remember last night, and reach out to touch it, rub the silk between my fingertips. For a brief moment, I
feel it again. I can feel the pulse of the music and Mr. Daviz’s breath on my neck.

Something tickles my back gently, and I squirm.

“It was cold, lying there without you.”

There is that delicious feeling of waiting, and then the feel of his arms wrapping around my waist.

“You’re perfect,” he says, and I believe him. When he touches me, I will believe anything he says, do anything he asks.
His mouth on my mine feels urgent, bruising.

His hands trace down and rest on my inner thighs.

He mutters something, and bends me over the bed. I’m gripping the dress in one hand and stroking his cock in the other.
When he enters me, I intend to bite down onto my fist to muffle my cry, but instead, end up tasting the red silk. The
scent is wonderful, strange, bringing up odd, swirling images behind my eyelids.

Draco is panting now, slowing his strokes. He draws one of my earlobes into his mouth and then softly lets go.

I arch back into him and he rides me. His hips are scooping under and up, and then crashing into me; a steady rhythm
marked by the sound of my name coming from him in tiny moans.

I hold the dress against my breasts, the creeping wave of need rising up from my belly and spreading quickly over my
gooseflesh. My back arches and my toes cramp up as every part of my body coils, impelling me towards my finish.

I remember the way it felt to be like her. I bet she is refined even bent over a mattress.

Draco reaches around and rubs my clit, and I lose all thought until I come, my face pressed into the silk, leaving a
moist circle near the neckline. Near the silver buttons that had clung too tightly last night, and that were now leaving
decorative indentations on my cheek.

Draco notices and tries to pull it out of my hand, but it is me who is clinging now. Not wanting to let it go.

I turn onto my back, still holding the dress against my chest. Draco pays little attention to this and reaches under the
silk to knead my bare nipples before entering me again, pushing too hard and too fast.

I realize, vaguely, that I’m lifting my hips to him, quietly whispering words he will likely never say back.

“I love you…”

And when he comes, the dress is crushed between us, damp and wrinkled. One button has come loose in my hand. The smell
of it is fading now.

The perfection of it, ruined, by the beauty that is us. No fairy tale. No stuff that dreams are made of. Just the
lifeless shell of something I’ll never become. A hundred times I’ve closed my eyes and dreamt about what it was like to
be someone like her.

I let it go.

There is a long sigh from Draco, a question perhaps. His own sweet smell is magnified all around me and I kiss him,
trying to taste it. Feel it.

Draco pulls the dress from between us, tosses it to the floor.

“I’ll buy you another. A different color.”

I rise to kiss him again, holding him by his hair. I think to my self that later, I will ask him what he saw.

He rolls off of me, folding his hands behind his head with a satisfied smirk.

“Blue, perhaps,” he says.

***
