Ginny Weasley Thinks She's In Love by msscribe

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 4
Published: 16/01/2003
Last Updated: 20/01/2004
Status: Completed

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 .




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.

***