AN: My deepest apologies in my tardiness. I've been working on another two fics (one that I can't mention here and a companion fic to this one that will come into play later) and even some upcoming scenes that take place after the end of this chapter that I just couldn't let get out of my head. To the person who reviewed a long time ago and wished for more hot sex, you were right, I'd blown my chances before, so here's some to hopefully soothe ruffled feathers. I hope to post another chapter here in the next week or so. I'm home on Winter Break and am looking forward to tying up some loose ends. I'm also, for the first time, trying to include some asterisk to indicate changing points of view or important conclusions. I hope it helps.
"Mr. Malfoy…a word, if you please." Dumbledore's hoarse rasp stopped Draco as he walked the corridor towards the Owlery to mail his daily Ministry reports and papers.
"Yes, Headmaster?" Draco asked, mentally sighing. Much as he wanted to fight for this side Dumbledore never failed to irritate him in some small way.
"I wish to see you in my office when you finish your post." Suddenly Draco began to feel very young and distinctly in trouble.
"Is there a problem, sir?"
"No, Draco, no problem. Rather good, I would say." With that Dumbledore disappeared round the corner, leaving Draco alone with his hands full of parchment. Picking up his pace, he entered the Owlery and ignored the pesky school owls who clamored to take his papers. Instead he searched out a particular own that was a deep brown, one that he had privately decided closely matched the brown of Ginny's eyes.
Ah, Ginny. He'd barely spent any time with her or even spoken, for that matter. Surprising himself, he readily admitted that it wasn't necessarily that he wanted her physical company (though Merlin, he missed that too) but just her. The feel of her hair trickling through his fingers, her delicate perfume, the crinkles around her eyes when she smiled. Longingly, he recalled their Christmas encounter before the fire and sighed. He wished to pull her into the overstuffed chair that was in his quarters and feel her sweet weight across his lap.
Reluctantly shoving the thoughts aside, he began the trek to Dumbledore's office. He cursed as he took the wrong swinging stairway and ended up ten minutes away from his destination. Reaching the stone edifice that served as Dumbledore's front door, he mumbled the password and mounted the stone staircase and ascended into the headmaster's office.
Dumbledore met him at the entrance, offering tea and cookies. Draco declined, sitting quickly in the chairs and wanting to get the hell out of there.
"I apologize for taking so long, sir, but I…"
"I know. I always take the wrong swinging staircase," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. This dredged up a small smile from Draco, but mercifully Dumbledore began speaking.
"I have asked you here, Draco, to inform you that you have been accepted into the Order of the Phoenix unanimously one week ago."
"Bet that was an interesting meeting," Draco said, quirking his eyebrows and letting his voice become a bit rougher around the edges. "Bet they said that I'm the next Dark Lord or the new Heir of Slytherin or some prattle like that."
"In fact they did raise concerns, Draco, of your loyalty. But I told them that I was sure that you had more that called to you on this side than the other."
Draco smirked again. "I'd have loved to see how you swung that vote, Professor. Tell me, how many of them muttered that you bribed Snape to second the motion?"
"Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy. And it was not Professor Snape who seconded the motion." Draco stopped short of forming another thought, and his eyes focused intently on Dumbledore, running through the members of the Order that he knew and could not think of a single one besides Snape who would have supported him.
"Who was it? Who seconded the motion?" Draco asked urgently. Benevolently smiling, Dumbledore paused before delivering the news.
"Molly Weasley."
***
The presence of your company is requested at ten o'clock in the deepest, dankest part of the Slytherin dungeons. A light, late dinner will be served. Dress accordingly.
Ginny smiled. What a charmer.
***
Wearing the winter cloak Draco had given her the year before, Ginny narrowly evaded the roaming prefects and hurried down to the dungeons. Coming to his door she whispered his password and entered.
The front of the room was ringed in candlelight, some candles floating and some not. She could see a small table sitting before the fire, laden with small bowls and several carafes. Draco's bed was behind the ring of fire, and she could sense him, smell him in the room.
"Draco," she said invitingly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." The door latched tightly behind her and Ginny felt the slight disruption of the air near her cheek as another spell shot from his unseen wand and silenced the room.
Playing the silent game, she slowly unfastened her cloak and hung it on the wall. Underneath she wore a simple sheath of white crepe that clung to her breasts and skimmed her curves. She'd transfigured it beautifully and was proud when she heard a gasp come from the darkened portion of the room.
***
"You're stunning," he said simply, reclining negligently on his bed, just outside her line of sight. Her tumble of auburn locks fell over her bare shoulders, caressing the sides of her breasts like a lover. She turned a bit then, suddenly, and he was rewarded with a flash of a long, bare leg under a slit in the skirt that was thigh-high. Her delicate feet were encased in strappy white heels, accentuating her slender calves.
He moved restlessly on his bed, his lounging pants rustling on the luxurious thick cotton sheets. He could feel his erection beginning, but now was not the time. Sliding off the bed, he showed himself, networks of scars winding sinuously around his bare torso, reminders of training, of torture.
As he approached her, he was taken by how absurdly tall she seemed in those shoes. She stared him in the eye, and he knew that he was being dared to make the first move. He stared back into those brown, fathomless depths and then swept her up into his arms, carrying her to the bed. She squeaked a bit, but nestled her head in the crook of Draco's shoulder.
He set her down gently on the plush duvet. Kneeling, he ran his fingers down her smooth bare legs to the tiny gilded buckles on her shoes. Deftly he opened them and slid her shoes off, returning to plant tiny kisses on her toes. Massaging the arch of her foot brought forth a low moan and he continued, placing her feet on his shoulders so he could kiss the sensitive ankles.
"Draco, please," she moaned, though neither of them was sure what she meant.
"Draco, please what?" he asked teasingly, trailing his tongue up her calves. Groaning, she grasped at his hair with slim fingers.
"I don't know, you smarmy git, just don't stop." Draco laughed, soft puffs of air ticking Ginny's arches.
"Just for that, I'm going to make you suffer."
"I already have," she sniffed. "These many days, I've simply languished alone," she said in an affected voice.
Stroking the backs of her knees, he placed tiny nibbles as he contemplated his response.
"I suppose you have been, and I'm sorry," he said quietly. He could feel the shocked waves rolling off her.
"Yes," he said impatiently, "the great Malfoy apologized." He was only slightly mollified when he heard her soft laughter.
"What?" he demanded. "What's so funny about that?" Her laughter turned into giggles.
"You always make everything so dramatic. Come on, Draco, slum with me for a while. It's more fun when everything is simple. Like this. It's just the two of us here, together for the first time in a while, and though the food smells delicious and the candles are beautiful, let's just be simple."
Simple.
***
Her words changed him, molded him, in a way he didn't quite understand. But he felt an unknown weight wash away from his shoulders, as if he had been carrying some heavy burden about their time together. He tucked it away in the corner of his mind for further examination later. Now he would try to be simple.
"Come here, Princess, let me look at you," he said, drawing her off the bed and into the ring of candlelight. Shyly, she slid down from his high bedstead, and with her diminished height came to chest level on him.
"Do you like it?" she asked, pirouetting slowly in front of him.
"Very much," he said thickly, reaching behind her to find the zipper he hoped she'd transfigured in, because if not that dress had been applied by truly magical means. His fingers alighted on the small runner of metal and he pulled the tab down, down, and pulled the soft materials from her breasts and down over her hips to pool on the floor.
Ginny let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding when the fabric scraped over her taut nipples, arousing them to a point of near pain. On instinct, her hands flew to soothe them and Draco suddenly became transfixed, watching her unconsciously stroke herself. It wasn't until his strong fingers gently pulled hers away that she knew what she had been doing. A flush crept up her chest and Draco saw fit to trace its rise with his tongue.
Putting his arm around the small of her back Draco pushed Ginny backwards, bending her in half so that he could feast on her pebbled nipples. Her precarious pose presented her creamy throat and Draco could not resist trailing his lips up to suckle on the frail skin at the base of her throat, dropping hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.
Suddenly he pulled her back up and found that he couldn't wait to kiss her.
"Gin," he said hoarsely. "Come here."
When his tongue swept across the roof of her mouth Ginny thought she might die from the shuddery pleasure of it. His fiercely tender kiss made her whimper and crowd in closer to his consuming warmth.
The ever-present chill of the dungeons touched her skin and gooseflesh rose and she knew there was only one heat source to chase away the shivers. Hungrily she began to pull at his low-riding pants, teasing them down as far as she could without breaking her kiss. When she felt hot bare skin beneath the silky pants instead of his shorts desire flared inside her.
He took her cue and stepped out of his pants, allowing himself an animal growl when her small hands closed about his length and held him immobile, drawing out his heat. It had been so long since he'd had pleasure of any sort it was all he could do to keep from spilling himself in her hands.
Unexpectedly he had to break the kiss, the simple feeling of her soft touch taking his breath and forcing him to gasp for air. His head dropped to her shoulder and she could feel his great pants hotly stirring the hair on her neck.
"Ginny, no, please don't," he pleaded as he felt her begin to bend her knees and slide to the floor.
He was forced to raise his head as she dropped from his reach. "Ginny, no!" he mustered, trying to pull her back up. "I won't be able to-"
A well-aimed stroke of her fingertips had him choking on his words.
"I don't care. You need this. I'll wait my turn," she said softly but resolutely.
He groaned as his shaft slid into the deep, impossibly warm cavern of her mouth. She used her mouth only, taking her hands and caressing Draco's buttocks softly while pressing her upper body against his legs.
"Ginny, you're so beautiful, I need you, you're so good," he said helplessly, simultaneously hating his loose, weak tongue but meaning every word.
Her hands left his backside and searched for his. Long fingers twined almost painfully with shorter ones and he held her hands as she pushed him into the abyss and caught him all at once. His moan of completion was heart-wrenchingly sweet to her ears and once she was sure he could stand without her torso supporting him she rose to her feet and drew him down to whisper in his ear.
"The protectors need protecting, too."
***
For a long while he stood there with her, digesting her conversational nugget. They kissed feather-softly, lips touching lightly, tongues brushing silkily against one another. His hands were on her breasts again, cupping her and rubbing his thumbs over her hardened nipples. The soothing motions served to calm Draco's racing heart and his mind. He hadn't felt more genuine in his life than he did now.
Ginny draped her body against his and leaned into his ministrations, letting soft and almost inaudible puffs of air signal her desires. He got the feeling that she could have left his chambers right now feeling as fulfilled as if they'd actually made love, and the thought of that humbled him. He had no intention of ever letting her leave him, any time, unfulfilled. Not because he had to, he realized, but because he wanted to.
The painful misgivings that had surfaced as he idly danced with another woman on Christmas Eve were slowly but surely becoming both embarrassing and woefully untrue every time he looked at her.
***
Slowly Draco eased them towards the fire. Summoning the chair, he picked up a slightly resisting Ginny and settled her into the warm, supple leather. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with the blackness of the leather, but the firelight muted the harshness. The gold shimmers in her hair sparkled as the firelight caught them, too.
"Draco," she breathed, as he knelt before her. "I know you're tired. Please don't feel as if you have to give back. I'm all right, you know," she said, her eyes brimming with affection.
He placed his hands on her soft thighs and squeezed gently.
"I'm never too tired for you, Gin. I'm not 'giving back.' I'm doing what I want to," he said, kissing her thighs at the end of each fingertip.
He trailed his fingers in the crease created by her thighs all the way up to her apex. Kneading her muscles purposefully caused her to open her thighs bit by bit, her sweet breath washing over his hair as his head dropped lower and lower.
His hands latched in the small of her back and pressed her pelvis closer to him, making her recline and stretch like a lazy cat. Her motions opened her to him, and he took the opportunity to dip his head and taste her desire.
He could not believe as prodigiously aroused as she was, that she was willing to sacrifice her own pleasure. The thought of her becoming wet for him, because of him, was very heady indeed. He pulled her then to the edge of her seat and arranged her to his liking. His tongue danced long, slow circles around her pulsing center and he relished her whimpering.
Her cries led him on like no other aphrodisiac could. Though he was fully focused on his task he kept his touches light, trying not to bury her under swelling tension, wanting her to feel each nerve ending afire.
She was unraveling underneath him. It took a split second for him to rear up on his heels and gather her into his arms, sliding into her on her first wave of orgasm. She could not hold back near-sobs as he leisurely timed his thrusts with her clenching, fluttering muscles.
Gracefully, he stood with her clutched to his chest and reversed their positions. He sat deeply, comfortably in the chair, Ginny's slender waist resting beneath his hands, his fingers spanning her hips. The sudden increase in his depth had brought her forehead down to his shoulder with a muffled yell, and he growled as her teeth sank into his shoulder to quiet herself.
Astride him, her powerful thighs clamped the outside of his as she finally trusted herself to move on him. Raising her compact body as far as she could, she startled him by slamming herself down him, causing both to take a sharp breath.
"Playing rough, Princess?" he asked her lazily, a smile curling around his lips as he met her straining body on her downward thrust.
"I wouldn't have…to do that…if you…didn't drive me crazy with…your tongue."
"Are you saying you don't want me to do that any more?" Draco inquired, meeting her with a particularly hard counterpoint.
"Sometimes, ooh, your tongue is so soft and wonderful…that one of us…needs to be rough."
He let her use his body then, as a willing participant in her completion. Glad now that he'd spent himself earlier, he met the silent demands of Ginny's body with no problem.
She threw herself down on him and nearly swooned when he met her fervor, when he sensed that she needed some well-deserved fire. She could not speak when her climax hit her, only let him continue thrusting through her pulses.
She sat pleasantly impaled upon him, but too pleasure-addled to comprehend that he was still hard and his need was unabated. A very feminine streak of heat shot through her when she realized that she was about to be thoroughly taken again. Opening her eyes, she stared fully into Draco's turbulent eyes and gave a siren's smile. A tight expression crossed his face as he rose, bouncing her purposely against him as he crossed back to his bed.
Hating to lose her warmth on his shaft, he groaned before he pushed her to the bed and pointedly prodded her to her stomach. She murmured assent as he pulled her hips high and moved her knees apart. Pausing for a few seconds to take in the sheer beauty of her in this position, he plunged into her core and relished the change of pressure they were surely both experiencing.
He held her hips tightly in his hands, kneading the round globes of her backside, growling as he used them to leverage his strokes. He began to hear her wanton mews and it spurred him on, pounding deeply. Reaching around, he found her and stroked at a furious pace until she was begging him to let her come.
He gave into a ridiculous urge to spank her, hard, once, and she writhed against his hand as the stinging slap pushed her firmly over the edge. Her sex contracted almost painfully around Draco and he smothered a yell as he pumped once, twice, three times and spent himself.
Some time later, after Ginny had rather spiritedly assured Draco she was completely fine and had enjoyed their last encounter enormously, they were seated at the small table sharing the sumptuous meal the house-elves had prepared.
"I found out something rather interesting today, Princess," Draco said, regarding her gloriously nude form across the table. Lazily she plucked a grape from its stem and chewed it.
"What's that?" she asked. He pondered for a moment how it was best to tell her; after all, he was certain she had no idea he'd been accepted into the Order. She wasn't any good at keeping "good" secrets like that. Had she known, she'd very likely have bowled him over at dinner trying to tell him the news.
"Dumbledore told me today that I was accepted into the Order of the Phoenix at last week's meeting," he said between sips of pumpkin juice. Her eyes widened jealously.
"Oh, not fair. I'm not even a member yet!" He rolled his eyes and she glared impudently.
"Oh, rubbish. It's not like you won't be one; your entire crimson clan is practically the charter member."
"I resent that," she said childishly. "How many people did Snape have to threaten to get the motion through?"
"Interesting that you ask. Apparently, no one." She frowned disbelievingly.
"Draco, no offense, but there's no way that the Order would include you just because Dumbledore said so. They respect him, but you're a little too close to the dark edge to let you in without some sort of a fight, or at least, proof that you weren't going to murder us all."
"There was proof given," Draco said. "And in fact, someone you know very well did the honors."
"Harry, I bet," she said confidently. "I'll bet that just honked Ron off to no end."
"Wrong person, but probably the correct emotion." She stopped eating to peer curiously at him.
"Then who was it?"
"Your mother. And your father supported her. I was accepted unanimously." He allowed himself a smirk as she gaped at him.
Perhaps she'd underestimated him. Perhaps she'd underestimated her family.