Draco wasn't sure how long he stayed there, his lips crushing hers, her body pressed up against his. All he knew was that he couldn't tear himself away until oxygen began to be a pressing issue.
Gasping, Draco pulled away, dropping his forehead against hers. She was gasping in time with him, her lips swollen and her eyes wide. Ginny raised her head to look at him, her flushed cheeks blushing even more as she looked into his eyes.
"What…?" she gasped out, her hand moving from his back to place it over her pounding heart. Draco stumbled back from her, shock on his face.
"I…I…" It was the first time in his entire life that Draco could recall not having something to say.
"You kissed me," Ginny declared, accusingly, her breathes becoming more even and the flush in her cheeks appearing to be more from anger than desire now. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I thought that was obvious," he said, unable to help his snide tone.
Ginny seemed to ignore it and just kept staring at him. "Why the hell would Draco bloody Malfoy kiss me?"
"Tut, tut, Ginny. Swearing? What would your mother say?" The insult rolled off his tongue, allowing him to avoid any real answer.
Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Malfoy," she warned.
Draco drank in the sight of her for a moment, her hair more mussed than before, her lips still swollen, still looking completely beautiful. "Because I wanted to," he answered, his voice raw with honesty.
If possible, Ginny's eyes widened further. She took a step towards him. "You, Draco Malfoy, wanted to kiss me?"
"Where are we? In a bloody courtroom?"
"Draco." Draco started at the use of his name, seemingly used without any conscious thought on her part.
"Yes, Virginia 'Ginny'," he made little quote marks in the air around the word, "Weasley, I wanted to kiss you."
She cocked her head, considering him with a shrewd look in her eyes. "Why?"
"Because," Draco said, scuffing his shoe on the floor, not used to having to give emotional reasons behind his actions.
"Draco," she crossed her arms in front of her chest, Draco raising his eyebrows as the action brought to his attention her breasts. Ginny followed his gaze, "Hey! Stop that!"
She swatted him lightly on the chest and Draco grabbed her wrist, leaning forward slightly to whisper seductively; "That's why I kissed you."
"You wanted me," Ginny whispered. Draco paused, unsure if her words were a question or not.
Opening his mouth to try to reply, his answer was cut off by Ginny's lips smothering his own. Making an inarticulate noise against her mouth, they fell together, and all thoughts of his answer, really all coherent thought, fled his brain as they stayed locked together in the abandoned classroom.
*
The clash of steel on steel echoed around the room, the only other sound the brush of feet against the stone floor. Draco kept his eyes trained on Blaise, aware that the other boy could be just as component with a sword as he was when he put his mind to it. And Draco also knew that he wasn't exactly at his best.
The memory of Ginny was invading his mind, making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything other than the taste of her lips, her body writhing under his, her hair tangled around his fingers. Barely missing a lunge from Blaise, Draco cursed himself. Concentrate, he insisted to himself. They might only be practicing but the sword would still be plenty sharp.
But Ginny, the way her brown eyes looked when they were clouded with desire, the sounds that she made as he nipped at her pulse point. Each meeting since that initial kiss was distracting him continuously, making lessons and meals and mundane Death Eater training seem irrelevant. He hadn't even realised that he and Blaise were headed to the practice room until they'd arrived and Blaise had told him, with a suspicious look on his face, that Draco had agreed to practice.
Draco brought his sword up to counter Blaise's in a reflex action that had Blaise lunging for Draco's now open side. Barely in time, his thoughts too occupied in images of Ginny, Draco span away though Blaise noticed his slowness and went on the attack, stabbing his sword with ferocity at Draco's body. His mind not fully back in the game, it was with some surprise that Draco felt the sharp point of the sword just below his ribs.
Both boys stared in shock at the scene. The point of Blaise's sword, nestled just below Draco's ribs. A clear kill.
"I beat you," said Blaise, out of breath, incredulity rather than pride, lacing his voice. "I beat you." He span, raising his arms in the air. "I beat you! I beat you! I beat you!" He chanted, gleefully.
Draco strode over to the side of the room, depositing his sword and picking up his school robe. "Congratulations, Blaise."
He turned back to find Blaise still with his arms in the air, a giant smile on his face, chanting happily; "I beat you, I beat you, I beat you…"
Draco sighed. "Blaise, do you want me to get you a camera to record the moment? A medal, maybe? Perhaps a plaque?"
"I could use a medal," Blaise said, considering, "A big hefty one that I could wear to meals," he smiled slightly, "maybe one big enough that I could eat off it. Make it real shiny, too. It's no good being a champion if my hair isn't looking perfect."
"You know, I never before realised how gracious a winner I am. Well done, Blaise, you've allowed me to discover one of my redeeming qualities. Mother will be so proud."
Blaise shrugged. "Still. Beat you."
"I always beat you."
Narrowing his eyes at him, Blaise advanced on Draco. "This wasn't a pity win, was it?"
Draco's face wrinkled in disgust. "Pity? Whatever makes you think I even possess that ridiculous character trait?"
"True," Blaise conceded, "but I still beat you. Which, however assured I am of my tremendous skill, is still slightly strange. What's been up with you lately?"
Lips crushed against his, her body yielding to exploration, breathy moans filling the air, their bodies moving together….
"Nothing," replied Draco, absent-mindedly fiddling with his robe.
"Ri-ight," Blaise drew the word out, he placed his sword carefully against the wall and avoided Draco's eyes, "You're not worried are you? Because you know that you're in easily…"
Draco started. "Of course I'm in," he nearly shouted, sounding vaguely insulted.
Blaise held up placating hands. "I know. That's what I said. Calm down, will you?"
Draco looked at his grinning friend, memories of Ginny mixing with the world around him. She'd hate the fact he was going to be a Death Eater, a topic their conversations had safely steered cleared of. Though he couldn't forget the fearful look in her eyes the first time that she'd hesitantly pulled his shirt off and the way that she had brushed her fingertips over the bare flesh of his left arm.
But he was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater. And sure, he didn't want to be a Muggle-killing-lover like his father but that didn't mean that he wanted to be a Muggle-lover like Ginny.
He gazed evenly at Blaise. "We're both in."
Blaise laughed. "Of course we are."
Grinning, Blaise grabbed his robe and strode out of the room, the unspoken rule between the two that the loser carried the swords back. Crouching, Draco grabbed the swords, cradling them loosely in his arms.
We're going to be Death Eaters. The familiar grin tugged at his mouth. It was something they'd always wanted, going as far as to play at the game when they were little with Teddy, Draco, of course, being Lord Voldermort. Draco shifted the weapons in his arms to a more comfortable position. He supposed that his ability to use his sword was just as important as his ability to use his wand. Running one long finger down the blade, Draco imagined pushing the metal into a living thing, their heart stopping beating as the blade pierced it.
A wand was so much more impartial. Draco dropped one sword to the floor and raised the other in the air, waving it around as he had done his wand on the train. He was going to be a Death Eater. He stopped moving, the image of Ginny's face appearing in his mind. She wasn't as innocent as all her little family thought, Draco had had the nights on the East Tower to prove that and even without them he could have worked it out after hearing about the whole Tom Riddle affair. But Ginny, even with that brush with dark forces, wouldn't understand his need, his desire to be a Death Eater.
He was Draco Malfoy. He didn't want to be his father. But he was still his father's son.
Draco let the sword drop to his side and he sighed heavily. He was going to be a Death Eater.
Draco gathered up the other sword and walked from the room, ignoring the thought in his head, eerily reminiscent of his conversation with Pansy, weeks earlier;
But what else can we do?
*
"How can you think that?" Draco decided that he had been right in his earlier assessment of Ginny, she really was more beautiful when she was angry. Of course, he didn't think that telling her that at this moment in time was prudent due to fact that all her anger was directed at him.
He sighed irritably and suppressed the smile that threatened when he saw her eyes flash. "Because it's the truth?"
"So, you're telling me that the Falmouth Falcons are better than the Chudley Cannons?" She looked at him incredulously.
Draco just smirked back, leaning against the tree trunk in the isolated part of the grounds they'd found themselves in. "No doubt about it."
Ginny smiled slyly, and moved towards him from her own sitting position. Crawling on all fours she slowly ran her hand up Draco's thigh, an innocent expression on her face. "Sure I can't convince you to convert?"
Grinning, Draco grabbed Ginny and yanked her into his lap, trailing kisses down her neck. "Not a chance in Hell," he mumbled causing Ginny to grumble, the sound quickly changing to a shriek as Draco divested her of her cloak.
"Draco it's cold out here!" she protested, "I am not taking my clothes…" A shrill sound invaded their hiding place, causing Ginny to look around curiously, "What on Earth?"
Draco suddenly cursed and lifted Ginny away from him. "Damn! I forgot about this blasted thing!" Standing up he hastily started to tug objects from his pocket, throwing things on the floor.
Looking amused, Ginny grabbed an elegant looking quill from the pile on the grass and began to twirl it in her hand. "What are you looking for?"
"Hold on…aha!"
"Did you just say 'aha'?"
"Great band now be quiet," Draco fiddled with the object in his hand until the shrill sound ceased.
Ginny was looking up at him curiously. "Isn't that Muggle music and what the hell is that?"
"Millicent has dubious music taste and this," Draco held up the small object so that Ginny had a clear view as she clambered to her feet, the quill she'd been playing with forgotten, "is a Maelaner."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Really? They cost a ton," she sounded awed and then blushed as she caught a glimpse of Draco's aristocratic features.
"Yeah, me and Blaise got them as kids so we could talk to each other from our manors."
"Wow, we had cans and a piece of string."
Draco looked confused, "What?"
Ginny waved the subject away; "No matter," she peered curiously at the glittering silver ball, "Looks kind of like a Snitch."
Draco grinned widely. "That exactly what me and Blaise thought. His mother was not happy when we started to throw them around the rose garden."
"I imagine not," Ginny chuckled, "So, Blaise is trying to talk to you?"
Draco's eyes widened, "I forgot about that part." He leaned in to brush her lips and turned to go. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Ginny just stared at him, her face getting angry again. "You could just listen to the message here, Draco."
He stared steadily back. "It might be private."
"Probably not, though." Not moving the pair looked at each other, caught in the moonlight of the night around them.
Slowly, his insides like lead, Draco moved to whisper; "Cyoan," into the top of the small ball.
Blaise's voice filled the clearing, his drawl more pronounced than usual, telling Draco that something was wrong. He glanced at Ginny, glad that she wouldn't know that quirk of Blaise's personality.
"Draco, where are you?" Blaise's disembodied voice queried, Ginny's lips quirked up at the question as Draco caught her eye, "Snape wants to see us. About some extra work, I think."
Draco watched Ginny breath a sigh of relief, though his own lead-filled insides had apparently decided that becoming a mass of wriggling worms was preferable. Trying to ignore the worms, Draco had decided long ago that he was far too manly for butterflies, he managed a smile at Ginny.
She returned the expression, leaning up to kiss him. "You best get going."
"Yes," he agreed, not wanting to leave her in the slightest, "I'll see you."
He turned and swooped out of the clearing, pushing past the branches that had protected them from sight. Draco faltered as he came into view of the imposing castle.
Blaise wouldn't have tried to find him if it hadn't been important. It certainly wouldn't have been about some extra potions work. Draco began to move again, his feet growing heavier each step he took towards the school.
*
"Ah, Mr Malfoy. Good of you to finally join us."
Draco hovered in the doorway to Snape's office, taking in the scene before him. Professor Snape sat imposingly behind his large desk, reminding Draco why the first years worked so hard to avoid being sent to see the Potion's Master. Blaise was slouched in a chair by the fire, his dark head lolling over the back of the green leather.
"Sorry," said Draco stepping fully in and taking the second seat by the fire, ignoring the one in front of Snape. He watched Snape's eyebrow rise and saw Blaise's curious look as Draco avoided giving a reason for his lateness.
Ignoring both of them Draco leaned back, letting the heat of the fire seep through his clothes. "What's going on?" He asked without preamble, his eyes flicking to the impassive professor.
"I have some news I was asked to pass on," Snape began. Blaise sat up and leaned forward eagerly though Draco didn't move an inch, his eyes fixed on Snape.
There was a silence after his words, Snape's eyes staying trained on Draco in a silent battle of wits. It was interrupted by Blaise, who had obviously grown bored; "Well?"
Snape's eyes shot to Blaise and Draco's gaze lazily returned to the fire.
Standing abruptly, Snape moved around to the front of the desk. He regarded each boy seriously, Draco still contemplating the fire.
"I have been instructed to tell you that you will be required to return to Malfoy Manor in exactly three weeks time," Snape said smoothly, the slight curl of his lip the only outward sign he disliked being the messenger for this.
Draco moved to watch Blaise. "Yes," murmured the other boy, the firelight reflecting in his blue eyes giving him a sinister appearance. He locked gazes with Draco and frowned at the impassive expression on his face.
Snape cleared his throat and both boy's eyes rose to look at him. "Personally, I do not think…"
"No!" shouted Blaise, he rose to his feet. A warning look from Snape made him retake his seat. "We are old enough for this and damn it we're prepared!"
"You're prepared?" Snape snarled, "Don't be a fool, Zabini, you can never be prepared."
"But, Professor…"
"No," ordered Snape, turning his back on the pair. "I do not agree with it. It is too suspicious for one."
Draco watched him lazily. "Yes, I suppose it is," he said, his voice low and indolent. Snape span to look at him but Draco was already looking at the fire again.
"Neither of you know what you're getting into!" Snape spat out each word.
Blaise suddenly stood to face him. Draco, watching the scene, was surprised to see Blaise was nearly as tall as his professor. "Maybe we don't. But at least we're willing to do something to help the Dark Lord."
With that Blaise snarled and stalked out of the room, glancing at Draco who was still curiously watching Snape as he left. Snape made a similar snarling expression and dropped into the seat next to Draco.
Draco watched him impassively. "Draco," began Snape, "You seem to understand more about the intricacies of the situation than Blaise…"
Holding up a hand to cut him off, Draco went back to staring into the flames. "You won't find an ally in me."
Snape growled. "You are too young! It is too dangerous!" He leaned forward, his voice low as though he was playing his last card; "And if Dumbledore finds out, which he is likely to do, you are done for."
Draco looked at him steadily, his mind clicking pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing. "I suppose we are." He stood suddenly, shocking Snape. "But it is already done. Me and Blaise," he smiled twistedly, "I suppose you could say that this is our destiny."
Snape regarded him through sad eyes. "You can write your own destiny, Draco."
Draco suddenly laughed, dispelling the sombre mood that had settled over the room. "Don't tell Trelawney that. She'll be seeing Grims in your tea for months." Draco moved to the door, his smile faltering as he looked at his teacher who suddenly looked much less imposing and much older and more fragile than he had when Draco had first walked into the room. "I'll see you in Potions tomorrow, Sir."
Snape's voice stopped him, though Draco didn't turn around. "You may not be my ally, Draco, but I will always be yours. Remember that."
*
When Draco returned to the common room he found Pansy sat in front of the fire, her eyelids at half mast. Walking towards her, he noticed the book open on her knees though all her attention was on the flickering flames.
"Pansy?" Draco asked, sitting in the chair opposite her. She started, her hand covering her heart.
"Draco, you scared me," she said accusingly.
He raised an eyebrow at her, noticing her dressing gown. "You didn't wait up for me, did you?"
Tugging her dressing gown around herself tighter, Pansy shook her head fervently. "No," she picked up her book, "I was reading."
Draco smiled slightly and leaned forward to tip the book the right way up. "It's upside down, Pans."
Rolling her eyes, Pansy tugged the book away from him and tossed it on the arm of her chair. "Fine. I was waiting for you."
"I know you want me…"
"Oh, please," Pansy cut in, exasperated, "I was reading and then Blaise stormed in and I thought I'd wait for you."
Draco looked over her shoulder to the entrance to the boy's dorms. "Is Blaise on his own?" he asked, concerned.
Pansy shook her head. "No, Teddy followed him in and I think Vincent was already in there."
Draco snorted. "Least Crabbe will provide him with a solid surface to punch."
Pansy's eyes widened. "What happened to incite violent tendencies in Blaise?"
"Because he's usually so level-headed?"
Pansy swatted Draco lightly on the arm. "Oh, shush. What happened?"
Draco slouched back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Snape practically told us we weren't prepared to join the ranks."
Pansy began to flick through the pages of her book. "Well, he's not wrong."
Draco sat forward, indignant. "What? We've been through hell to be prepared!"
"Right," said Pansy, sarcasm dripping from her words, "and I'm sure you could walk out of here right now and kill someone, Draco."
"If I had to."
"True," agreed Pansy, "But could you kill just for the hunt of it?"
"If I had to."
Pansy shook her head mournfully. "Liar."
"It's not all about killing, Pansy," said Draco, rising to go and talk to Blaise. She continued flicking through the pages of her book, though Draco noticed it was upside down again. Tiredly she raised her head and looked at him.
"Isn't it?"
"No," insisted Draco adamantly, intent on convincing himself as much as Pansy, "It's about serving someone who will make the world better for all of us."
Pansy turned to look in the fire, her eyes wistful. " 'For all of us'. Sound's nice, Draco."
He raised an eyebrow. "I know you're not too big on the killing, Pansy, but you still serve him, do you not?"
She span in her chair to look up at him. "Of course I do!" she insisted, vehemently, "It's just my mother…"
"Your mother died for the cause, Pansy," Draco said, his voice soft.
"Yes, she did," Pansy agreed, her face set, "and I don't want to lose anyone else."
Draco stared at her. This was a rare display from Pansy and though she appeared perfectly contrite, Draco couldn't dispel the feeling that that wasn't the real reason behind her hatred of his near Death Eater-dom. He'd always been too good at reading people for his own good, it inspired far too much paranoia in him about the people he knew he could trust.
Pushing the thought away, Draco leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "You're not going to lose any of us, Pans."
"You can't guarantee that."
"Sure I can. We'll just use Crabbe and Goyle as human shields. You know those two could stop a Exitium curse if it hit them in the stomachs. Not only would it provide a solid screen due to the massive amount of fat they've accumulated from the twelve square meals a day they consume but I've been slipping them pieces of bezoar in their pumpkin juice so even they're likely to come out of it okay," he squeezed her shoulder in a brotherly gesture, "We're going to be fine."
She laughed and swatted him away. "Go check Blaise hasn't thrown a shoe at Vincent's head and let me read my book in peace."
He laughed and walked to the dorms, looking back and frowning at the expression on Pansy's face as she ignored her book and stared into the fire. He imagined it was very similar to the expression he'd worn on the walk back from Snape's office.
*
"You know, you never actually asked me if I broke up with Dean," Ginny remarked as she leant against Draco's bare chest slouched on the East Tower. Draco, playing with a tendril of Ginny's hair, made an incoherent noise, his mind elsewhere.
Ginny noticed this and smiled wickedly. "Because, well," she started, "the truth is that I never did and really I've just been seeing both of you this entire time. It really has been hard to have the energy but I've managed okay and all this exercise has done wonders for my figure. Of course, Dean's a lot better…"
The rest of her words were muffled by Draco's finger placed over her lips. "Ginny," he murmured into her ear, "can we just sit, please?"
She struggled to turn and look at him. "Draco, what's wrong?"
"I forgot to add 'not talk'."
Ginny frowned at him. "Tell me what's wrong."
He stared at her, his face solemn. "I can't." Ginny snarled and tried to climb out of his grasp but Draco held her firm. "I want to, God, I want to. But, right now, I just can't."
Stopping her struggle, Ginny's hand strayed to his left arm. "Is it about…?"
He turned his head away and shut his eyes, giving Ginny all the answer she needed. Draco could see the tears threatening Ginny's vision and he reached up to brush them away but she jerked away from his hand as though it was a burning poker.
She batted at him as she tried to stand, Draco keeping his arms locked around her waist. "Draco, let me go," he just tightened his hold, hating the look on her face. "Let me go!" she shouted and Draco did, hating the anguish in her voice.
She stumbled to her feet and pulled her clothes from the pile on the floor, tugging them on. Once she had done so she span to face Draco, who hadn't moved from his position against the parapet. He stared up at her, her lips still swollen though now her pretty face was covered with tears.
"I thought I could do this," she said, her voice raspy. Quickly she ran a hand through her hair, before saying simply; "but I can't."
Rushing forward, Ginny crouched and crushed her mouth against Draco's in a bruising kiss. His arms came up to encircle her waist but she pushed him away, standing and backing up.
"But I can't," she repeated more firmly. "Goodbye, Draco."
Draco couldn't move as she fled down the tower steps. He'd lost her. His hand strayed to his arm where she had so delicately placed her hand. With a sudden burst of anger he stood, pulling on his clothes and ignoring the chilled air. She wouldn't have stayed anyway. She would have taken one look at the Mark on his arm and ran and told Dumbledore about a new little Death Eater right in this very school. Draco swore kicking the parapet with his bare foot.
He swore again at the pain that caused him, reminding himself why he should wear shoes for his displays of aggression. Crumpling to the ground, Draco let the wind play with his light blond hair, whipping it across his face.
It was ridiculous anyway. He didn't even like her that much. She was annoying, she would never shut up and she'd always do the exact opposite of what he wanted her to do. And she had that annoying habit of worrying about him. So, he'd wanted her for a little while. He was over that. He'd had Ginny Weasley and he didn't care anymore. He was going to be fine.
Draco stood and headed down the stairs, muttering under his breath to the empty air; "Yeah, right."
*
Hurriedly packing clothes into his expanding suitcase, Draco didn't notice Blaise leaning against his bedpost until he spoke.
"Nervous?"
Draco shrugged, "Not sure. I mean I'm fairly positive I won't need three V-neck sweaters but I can never be sure. It's a dreadful worry."
"Draco."
"No," he said adamantly, doing up the case.
"Because you've not been sleeping," Blaise pointed out, hefting his own case from the bed.
Draco shot him a look. "Didn't know you cared," he responded dryly.
"It's obvious when your tossing and turning practically kept the logs up."
"That's not nice. Crabbe and Goyle have at least enough intelligence between them to merit being called trees. Least they have roots." said Draco, heading into the common room and over to the fire.
"Whatever. You're avoiding the subject."
"For God's sake, Blaise. Fine, I've not been sleeping. It's not worry over this, I assure you," Draco said, taking a handful of Floo powder from the bag Professor Snape had given them.
"Then what is it?"
"I keep having this recurring nightmare where Millicent's tap-dancing on my head whilst you're singing; 'I've got a lovely bunch of Jelly Slugs" in a fluorescent pink lycra suit. Would you want to sleep with that image in your head?"
"I don't know. What's Millicent wearing?"
"Blaise," Draco insisted tiredly, "I'm fine. It's not like I'm lying awake at night agonising over some girl."
"True, you would have bragged about that by now."
"Yep," muttered Draco, "would've told the whole school." He threw the powder on the fire, saying clearing and strongly before stepping into the flames; "Malfoy Manor."