Ginny made her way upstairs and hesitated for a brief second before Draco's door, then resolutely moved the few feet to her own. She stepped into her room and murmured a quick "Lumos" to light the lamps that were scattered about the room. She closed her door behind her, feeling weariness drag at her bones. Merlin, she had been married just this morning. It seemed as though it had been eons ago. She sighed heavily and went over to the boxes that were stacked in the corner of the room and knelt in front of them. Ginny opened one and the first thing she pulled out was her Weasley sweater that had a bright green G emblazoned on it. She sniffled softly and pulled the familiar sweater over her head, fingering the worn threads wistfully. Her mother had given her this sweater in her first year. Ginny closed her eyes on the familiar spurt of pain. Before Riddle, she thought painfully.
Most of the time she tried not to think about what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Her family assumed that because she never mentioned it, that she had forgotten. But she hadn't. It was impossible to forget something like that. Her lips curved in a small smile. And Harry had saved her from that nightmare. She would never be able to repay the debt that she owed him for that. Although she had brought it up once she had graduated from Hogwarts, he had appeared genuinely shocked and had immediately dismissed it. But she hadn't forgotten. Ginny Weasley paid her debts, and she owed Harry Potter a great one. The fact that she considered him as another brother--now--didn't change that fact.
Although she hadn't been physically harmed in the Chamber of Secrets, she would never recover from the wounds that she had received there. She had been invaded by evil and pure hate. Hate left its mark on a person. She wasn't the sweet little girl that she had been before the Chamber. She had grown colder and harder, and even more so as she aged. The fact that she had sought it out only added to her shame that she kept deeply hidden. She had inadverently given Riddle a chance to destroy everything that she held dear, and it ate at her.
Ginny felt the tide of loneliness tug at her insistently. Sometimes she felt so alone. No one really understood what she was. Harry was possibly the closest, but even he couldn't understand completely. He had never sought evil. She had. She had done it in childish ignorance, but it didn't change the outcome. She could have been killed, and taken Harry along with her in the process. Ginny sniffed and swiped a stray tear from her cheek angrily. She rose to her feet, clasping her arms around her as if she were cold. The familiar sweater made her feel a little better, and she pulled on some soft pajama pants and then crawled into bed.
Maybe it was foolish to try to hide beneath the covers like she was a little girl again, but it made her feel better. She was feeling overwhelmed and unsteady, and the sweater made her feel safe. Her mother had sat for hours making the sweater for her, and it made Ginny feel closer to her family.
She buried her face in her pillow as the tears spilled helplessly. The sobs were torn unwillingly from her and muffled into near-silence into her pillow as she wept. Finally she cried herself to sleep, still clutching the hem of her sweater.
***
A loud banging jarred Ginny abruptly awake. She sat up in a rush and found that she had been lying half off the bed. Consequently she went tumbling off the bed with a squeak. Shocked by the short fall and cold floor, she let out a string of inventive curses. Seconds laughter she heard her husband's laughter from the other side of the door. She curled her lip, death in her eye. "What the hell do you want?"
"I've come to wake you, my pet," he sang cheerfully.
"Go away!"
"May I come in? Or are we going to speak through the door?"
For one instant Ginny was sorely tempted to do just that. Finally she grumbled, "Fine. Come in."
She heard the door open and then shut, then she popped her head up from the side of the bed and glared at her husband, who looked entirely too cheerful for her liking. "What do you want?" she snapped. "I was sleeping."
He eyed her tousled hair and heavy-lidded eyes. "Obviously. However, in the spirit of goodwill, I decided to give you an ample amount of time to get ready."
She snorted at the goodwill half of his statement, then narrowed her eyes. "Ready for what?"
He smiled. "Why, the press conference, of course."
"Press conference?" she shrieked. "There's a press conference?"
He smirked at her. "But of course, my sweet. We must make our marriage public. Otherwise it does no good for us to be married at all."
"When's the press conference?" Ginny demanded, panic and loathing glittering in her eyes. He smiled beautifically at her. "Two hours from now."
"Two hours?" she shrieked, and Draco winced and touched one ear gingerly. "Might lose the hearing in that one," he murmured to himself. She jumped up from behind the other side of the bed, and Draco's mind went as blank as glass.
Sometime during the night Ginny had woken because her sweater was itchy and it was unbearably hot in her room. She had instead donned one of Fred's stolen shirts, which hung halfway down her thighs. Then she had crawled into bed again.
Now the effect on Draco was stunning, although Ginny didn't notice. He stared at her, his mouth slightly open. Her red hair tumbled around her shoulders and looked as though a man's hands had been run through it. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and sleepy, her cheeks still flushed from sleep. She was wearing a flannel shirt that hung halfway to her knees, leaving enough silky leg for him to drool over. A few of the top buttons had slipped out of their well-worn holes, and whenever she moved the shirt gaped slightly, letting him glimpse the curve of one breast.
"Get out, get out!" she said furiously. "I have to get ready!" She advanced on him, and before he knew it he was on the other side of the door as it slammed at his back. He blinked, abruptly coming out of his daze. Now how did I get out here? he mused. Ah yes. My wife kicked me out. Then his grin spread. For seeing her like that, he was willing to be kicked out. In his head he imagined that shirt riding high on those strong thighs of hers.
Then he grinned again and ambled downstairs, whistling, to finish off the last beer in the cold box.
***
Almost precisely two hours later, Ginny rushed down the curving stairs, tugging on one strappy black heel as she went. She tripped and swore, then continued down the stairs at the same breakneck pace. "Malfoy!" she shouted. "Malfoy!" She stopped at the bottom of the stairs to finally finish putting on her shoe, muttering to herself as she did. She irritably batted one curl out of her eye as she did so. When she had looked in the mirror and wondered what to do with her hair, the long, loose curls had seemed ideal. Simple, not too dressy, and they had suited the image she wanted. Now they were a damned nuisance. She was so used to being able to run her hand through her long, stick straight hair whenever she wanted to that she had unconsciously done it and wrecked the curls three times already.
She anxiously smoothed the dark blue boatneck dress over the swell of her hips. The dress bared her delicate collarbones, and ended at her knees, with a daring slit that revealed a glimpse of her slim thighs whenever she moved. Her makeup was subtle, but made her high cheekbones look even more pronounced, and accented her unusual eyes. When she was done fiddling with her attire, she glanced up and saw that her wayward husband hadn't come running at her call.
"Malfoy!" she shouted, deepening her voice and subsequently making it louder so that it rang through the house.
Draco strolled leisurely from the direction of the house that the kitchen was in. "No need to shout, pet," he drawled.
She glared at him and tried not to notice how handsome he looked. The dark suit--which could assuredly feed her family for at least a month--made his mercury silver eyes seem piercing, and his pale blond hair even more dashing. Instead she snapped, "Where were you? I've been calling you for ten minutes!"
He smirked. "Hardly that. More like ten seconds."
She glared at him. "Whatever. Are you ready?"
"I've been ready for hours now," he said, buffing his fingernails on his sleeve. Ginny bared her teeth in a parody of a smile.
"Great. Let's go."
He took a step toward her, and she unconsciously mirrored him by taking one away from him. Once she had completed the motion, she immediately stopped herself and held herself perfectly still as he advanced on her. As he moved closer, a glint of gold against her pale throat made him pause. He leaned close to her, and felt her quiver. Ignoring that betraying motion, he slid his finger against her throat and then away, pulling out the necklace that had been hidden beneath her dress.
There was a frozen silence for one long moment as he stared at what dangled between them. Then his gaze snapped up to hers, and she almost flinched from the rage there. "Why is my wife wearing a wedding ring that's not mine?"
She tried to step back, but his hand fisted around the small ring and effectively held her immobile. She glared up at him. "None of your business," she spat at him.
"It's damn well my business," he snarled back at her. "This is supposed to look believable. How is it going to look believable if my wife is wearing another man's ring around her neck?"
"How do you know it's a wedding ring?" she said coldly. "It might just be a regular ring that doesn't fit me anymore."
He snatched up one of her hands and slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly. She jerked away, a sob caught in her throat that was never voiced. The motion was too much like what she had dreamed about for so long. She couldn't stand to have that dream tainted by Draco Malfoy's hate and bitterness. She violently drew off the ring and tucked it back inside her dress, trembling violently.
His eyes coldly catalogued her reaction. "That's how I know," he said icily. "It's a wedding ring, Weasley, and don't try to lie to me. Who was it?"
"None of your business!" she shouted, her hands clenched so as not to betray their trembling. "Why does it matter, Malfoy? I'm not taking it off."
"You damn well will," he snapped. "My life depends on this farce being believable. And I'm not going to have you fuck it up because you're still pining over some jerk."
Her face was icily composed when she spoke. "Although we are legally married, Malfoy, it is just a lie. Therefore it does not give you leave to know certain things about me."
"It does when it involves me," he said through gritted teeth.
She stepped away from him out of arm's reach. "Then fortunately this does not involve you. May we leave for the press conference now, please?"
He glared at her, but she just ignored him. Finally he snapped, "Fine. But we're going to talk about this later."
She didn't respond as he stepped closer to her. Just before they Apparated to the Ministry, she murmured beneath her breath, "No we're not."
***
They appeared on the landing area right outside the Ministry doors and were immediately assaulted by the flash of cameras. Ginny instinctively shielded her eyes with one hand. A split second after they appeared, Draco's arm snaked around her waist and yanked her protectively against his side. For one instant, Ginny forgot the cameras that were flashing around her. His body was hard against her softness, and he was warm. He had her pressed against his side, and with dire glares he kept the reporters from crowding her. For one second Ginny could almost believe that he cared if she were hurt from the crush of people. Then she shook those thoughts away. He was just playing a part, just like she was. He had just been quicker on the uptake.
She immediately looked up at him with an adoring look in her eyes, and when he glanced down at her, he stopped, his gaze arrested on hers. There was a flurry of camera flashes, which neither noted. Seconds later they broke their gazes and Draco began to determinedly forge his way through the crowd and into the Ministry. Thankfully, the reporters didn't follow them inside. Draco strode down the hallway and came to the two hulking men who guarded the outer door to the Minister's inner sanctum.
Ginny smiled up at them. "Hey, guys."
They smiled down at her, their eyes gleaming appreciatively at her appearance. Unconsciously, Draco's arm tightened possessively around Ginny's waist. He might not like the woman, but she was his. "Hey, Gin," Anton said, smiling. Then his gaze shifted to Draco and darkened, the smile sliding away from his lips until he looked cold and remote. "Mr.Malfoy."
Draco inclined his head haughtily. "Mr.Schvanka." His gaze moved to Kenny, who looked just as forbidding as Anton. "Mr.Davidson."
Kenny didn't even answer him, just glared at him as though he would like nothing better than to stomp Draco into the ground. Ginny blinked, startled at the change in the demeanor. She knew that no one really liked Draco--she wasn't an exception--but she hadn't realized that the hatred was so virulent among the general populace. Abruptly she jerked herself back. She was supposed to be madly in love with Draco. She leaned against him, and his arm shifted to accomodate her without thought. She frowned at Anton and Kenny, mentally apologizing even as she spoke. "Boys, don't look that way! Draco's my husband! What are you doing?"
Their eyes shot to her in shock. "Husband?" Anton blurted out, looking as though she had punched him in the face.
Kenny didn't take his eyes off Draco. "More to the point, Gin, what are you doing?"
"I dislike your informal tone with my wife. She is Lady Malfoy to you." Draco's voice was soft and dangerous. Surprised at the silky threat in his voice, Ginny looked up at him. Even if no one else did, she would see the lie in his eyes. She knew that he didn't give a damn what Anton and Kenny called her. But his eyes were like frozen glaciers, and deadly serious. Surprise made her slow as Anton stepped aggressively forward. "Ginny would never marry a scumbag like you, Malfoy, so come off it." His hand reached out to grab Ginny's wrist and pull her away from Draco.
In a blur, Draco withdrew his wand and pressed the tip to Anton's vulnerable throat. "Lay one finger on my wife and you'll sorely regret it."
Anton froze, his fingers still mid-motion in reaching for Ginny. Slowly, his eyes warily on Draco, Anton withdrew his hand. Abruptly, everything snapped back into focus for Ginny. "Draco! What are you doing?"
He didn't answer her, just kept his wand extended and his narrowed his eyes on both men. "Malfoy!" Ginny hissed. "Let it go! We need to leave!"
He hesitated, then reluctantly lowered his wand. "I'm so sorry," Ginny apologized, her eyes, darkened to velvet brown with distress, pleading for Kenny and Anton to understand.
"It's all right, Gi--Lady Malfoy," Kenny said slowly, and Ginny could have wept. She tugged on Draco's hand, her nails digging into his skin in revenge, and led him through the door, her other hand giving Kenny's hand an unobtrusive squeeze as she passed him. Once they were through the door, she released Draco's hand.
"What the hell were you doing?" she hissed at him in an undertone.
"Not here," he murmured back, slipping an arm around her waist. She almost pushed him away, still angry about the incident in the hall, but remembered herself just in time. There were too many eyes in the room--eyes that were all watching the pair in fascination. Ginny forced a smile to her lips and allowed Draco to lead her through the room and into Jonathon's office. Once the door had closed behind them, Ginny wrenched herself away from Draco.
"How dare you threaten them?" she asked furiously, her eyes flashing with rage. "And all over some stupid comment!"
Draco's eyes were skimmed with ice as he glanced over at her. "You are my wife--farce or not. They will treat you with the respect that the Malfoy name deserves."
"Fuck the Malfoy name," Ginny spat. "I refuse to have you treating my friends like the dirt beneath your feet, Malfoy."
Draco arched one eyebrow at her, looking smugly superior. "And why shouldn't I, Weasley? They're much like the dirt that's always on your face."
Ginny clenched her fists, feeling tears burn the back of her eyes, although her eyes remained dry. "You bastard," she whispered, loathing ripe in her voice. "I hate you."
Draco gave a little mocking half-bow. "No more than I dislike you, Weasley," he said curtly.
She turned her back on him and looked around the room. Jonathon was watching them in silence from a chair behind his desk, his face looking deeply lined and weary. Ginny was still trembling with anger, and she wanted badly to lash out at her uncle. Ordinarily she might have, but his weariness tugged at her. She took a shaky breath to calm herself, then snagged a chair and dragged it behind the desk to sit beside her uncle.
She reached for one of his hands that were lying on his desk. She wrapped her tiny fingers around his larger hand, feeling his frustration and self-anger swamp her. Her muscles trembled for a moment against the onslaught of emotions. Normally she would have been calm enough to deal with his tumult of feelings, but she was still unsettled and furious at Draco. It took her a moment before she grounded her own emotions, knowing they would only be destructive. Once she had centered herself, she gently drained away the more virulent of her uncle's emotions, and felt some of the tension recede from his body.
"Uncle Jon?" she asked him gently. "Are you all right?"
He turned his head to smile wanly at her. "I'm much better now, my dear." With his free hand, he patted her hand that was still curled trustingly in his. "You always did have a soothing touch, Virginia."
You have no idea, she thought with an inward sigh. But she just smiled comfortingly at him and squeezed his hand.
Jonathon continued to absently pat her hand, almost as if he gained comfort just from touching her. Although Ginny was no longer leeching her uncle's destructive emotions, obviously just her touch was helping to ground them. She left her hand to lie passively in her uncle's, and blatantly ignored Draco, who had remained standing, watching them with eagle eyes.
"I see your first night as husband and wife haven't sweetened your dispositions," Jonathon said wryly.
Ginny's muscles tightened. "No," she said curtly. "Why should they? It's not like this marriage actually matters to either of us." She nearly sneered the words, then realized abruptly how completely Malfoy she sounded.
Horrified, she clamped her mouth shut as she saw Draco smirk at her.
Jonathon sighed heavily. "But it needs to matter to you, Virginia. If this plan is going to succeed, it has to matter to you."
"Why should it?" Ginny snarled, lunging to her feet and starting to pace across the room. Draco watched her with narrowed, glittering eyes. "I don't give a damn what happens to those. . .Deatheaters. I don't care, Jonathon! Why am I doing this?"
"Because it will be civil war if you don't," Jonathon said quietly, and effectively made her stop to look at him. "You knew why you were doing this before now, Virginia. What's making you hesitate now?"
"I'm not hesitating," she snapped. "Just because I'm doing this doesn't mean I have to be happy with it."
"I don't see what you're whining about," Draco broke in, his voice icy. "You act like you're the only injured party here, Weasley. I don't like being married to you any more than you like being married to me."
She curled her lip at him over her shoulder. "I didn't ask for your opinion on anything, Malfoy. I don't believe this conversation includes you."
He was across the room so fast that she barely saw him move. His hands gripped her upper arms, his lips curled in a snarl as he got close to her face. Jonathon lunged to his feet with the thought of protecting Ginny, but when he saw his dainty niece stick her face back into Draco's and snarl back at him, he slowly seated himself. Obviously she wasn't looking for any assistance.
"It damn well includes me," Draco growled at her, his voice a savage rumble in his throat that made things tighten low in her body, despite her rage. "I'm a part of this too, Weasley. You think you're the only one who doesn't like the situation? I hate your damned family, and I hate you. You think I wanted to be stuck with some red-haired, pain in the ass Weasley?"
She glared at him and stuck out her chin defiantly. "You're the one who got yourself into this mess," she hissed back at him. "If you hadn't been such an evil git in school, and hadn't been a Deatheater. . ."
Abruptly she realized what she had said, and she clamped her mouth shut. Total silence fell in the room as Draco stared at her, his eyes terrifying as they stared down into hers. It was well known that no one knew where Draco had been during the final battle--except for Dumbledore, probably. But Ginny had laid it firmly on the line--she considered him no better than those she had killed.
"Is that what you think?" he asked remotely, and his voice was even more frightening because of its deceptive calm. Ginny suppressed a shiver and instead glared mutinously up at him.
"Yes," she said rebelliously. "That's what I think. Care to prove me wrong? Show me your arm, Malfoy. Let's see if the Dark Mark still burns there. Does it haunt you at nights, Malfoy? Can you still feel what it was like when he summoned you? The pain, the burning?"
"Shut up!" Draco snarled, releasing her so abruptly that she staggered back several steps before she regained her balance. He snarled at her, his face savage. "I don't have to prove a goddamned thing to you, Weasley. Fuck off." He spun to face Jonathon, who had been a silent but watchful observer. "I knew this was a mistake as soon as you told me it was her. I'm quitting, Ravensblack." Draco spun on his heel and made for the door.
Just as his fingertips brushed the handle, Jonathon said quietly, "I know the position you're in, Malfoy."
Draco paused. "I don't know what you're talking about." His voice was frigid, and he didn't turn to look at the Minister of Magic as he spoke.
"Do you really want me to outline it?" Jonathon said softly, and Draco hesitated. He didn't want the Weasley knowing about the threatening letters.
"No," he said curtly. "So what? You know. Big deal."
"This will solve your problems, Malfoy. Are you going to turn away from it because of some family rivalry?"
"Family rivalry?" Ginny blurted out in shock, and Draco turned to glare at her.
"What else would you call it?" he asked scathingly, and she glared virulently at him.
"I'd call it common sense," she spat back at him. "Our family knew bad when they saw it."
"Shut your mouth," he snarled back at her.
She took a threatening step toward him. "Make me," she sneered.
He took a threatening step toward her, but Jonathon spoke up abruptly. "Virginia, Draco! Both of you shut up and sit down."
They both turned to snarl at him, but he glared right back at them. "Sit," he growled.
To everyone's surprise, Draco was the first to slowly seat himself. Bristling, Ginny did the same, well away from her husband.
Jonathon took a deep breath. "I'm getting sick of hearing you both bitch and complain. You were both willing for this assignment, and when it doesn't go the way that you want it you start complaining like five year olds. You're both adults--act like it! You both have an interest in making this believable. Don't forget that. You can bitch and moan all you want once you're safely back in Malfoy Manor, but there are ears everywhere, and I'm sick of listening to you have it out in my office. Virginia, your personal feelings aside, you know that Malfoy is the only way to stop war. Can't you bite your tongue enough for that? And you, Malfoy, you're in a sticky situation yourself. I'd think that you would be able to keep your temper with one woman long enough to get through this."
Ginny resisted the urge to hang her head like the child that Jonathon claimed she was acting like. She felt as if she were five years old again and being scolded by her precious uncle. Ginny gnawed on her lip, wondering if she had it in her to act as though she actually liked Malfoy. She snuck a glance at him out of her corner of her eye. He looked rebellious, much like he was fifteen again and unhappy about a dictate from his father.
Ginny sighed heavily. That thought was enough to soften her to Malfoy. No matter what else, he hadn't had an ideal family life. Just the thought of a boy growing up with Lucius Malfoy as a father was enough to make her shudder. She bit her lip. Was pity enough to get her through the coming months living in the same house with him? Abruptly, she remembered the night before, and the wave of heat that had swept over her when he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. She violently shoved that thought away. She valued herself more highly than to just go screw someone because they made her feel things she hadn't felt before. And not even Draco Malfoy would change that.
She sighed again. She wouldn't be attracted to him if he had no redeeming qualities. Sometimes she sensed things about people, but Draco was murky to her. But there was no overwhelming sense of evil about him. But then, she had already known that. He was just enough to get on her nerves.
Before she could rethink her decision, she blurted out, "Malfoy."
She sensed his attention on her, but she resolutely didn't look at him. "I apologize," she said, her voice short. "I was out of line."
He blinked over at her, obviously startled. There was a long moment of silence in the room, and Ginny forced down her bristle. Wasn't he going to apologize too? Finally he said slowly, "I apologize as well, Weasley." And that was all. He sounded baffled, as if he wasn't sure that the words were coming from his own mouth.
That thought made a smile wryly curve Ginny's mouth. No doubt he's never had to apologize to anyone in his life, she thought in amusement. Despite that her tension and anger had eased, she still didn't look over at Draco. She felt embarassment heat her cheeks. She had totally lost her temper. It was a rare phenomenon, and one that she didn't particularly relish. She got nasty when she lost her temper, and she usually tried hard to keep herself in check. But Draco seemed to have a remarkable knack for making her lose her control.
She took a steadying breath, then rose to her feet, keeping her eyes resolutely on her silent uncle. "I think we're ready now, Uncle Jon," she said quietly, and he looked up at her.
For one moment, she saw his affection for her shine in his eyes before he hid it behind a mask of professionalism. He nodded curtly. "Very well. Would you like me to escort you?"
"No." Draco's voice was deep and rumbling, and caused that little jerk in Ginny's stomach again. "We should go on our own. It would be simpler."
Jonathon hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Very well." He rose to his feet, but didn't come out from behind the desk. "Will you retire to Malfoy Manor afterwards?"
"Yes," Draco said, his voice short.
Ginny forced down a bristle and instead said quietly, "I have some things I need to buy at Diagon Alley."
Draco turned his head sharply to look at her. "What?" he snapped, then he reined himself in and tried to speak more civilly. "What did you need?"
Ginny forced down her own irritation at his sharp tone. "I need more ink. I'm running out."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why do you need ink?"
She watched him in silence, then said quietly, "I'm an author. I need to finish what I'm writing."
Draco blinked several times, as if he had been struck. "An author?" he repeated blankly. "You write?"
Her lips twitched. He looked as if she had sent a Bludger at his head. "Yes," she said, smiling slightly. "I write books."
"What kind of books?" He looked vaguely suspicious, as if he didn't believe her.
Genuinely amused, she actually gave him a real smile. "Fiction books. Books about love."
His sneer was automatic. "Love?" He rolled his eyes expressively.
Ginny waited for the surge of anger at his dismissal of her craft, but it didn't come. "Yes," she told him, laughter making her eyes twinkle. "Love. Quite horrid, I know, but it suits me."
He looked over at her, startled, and saw the mischief twinkling in her eyes. She thought she saw the ghost of a smile before his face went expressionless. Then he said calmly, "We have plenty of ink at the Manor if you need it so urgently. It would be better if we stayed at the Manor for a while. Make it seem as though we're honeymooning."
Ginny nearly flinched. It was a harsh reminder that this marriage wasn't the melding of hearts that she wrote about. Instead of lashing out because of hurt feelings, she just said quietly, "You're right. I'll use your ink, and I'll replace it."
"That's not necessary," Draco said curtly. "The Manor is yours for as long as this lasts."
Ginny inclined her head slightly. "That's generous of you, Malfoy, but I'll replace it." Her voice was inflexible and gave him no room to argue.
He started to, then thought better of it. He didn't want to fracture their fragile truce over ink, of all things. Instead he nodded shortly. "Are you ready to go out?"
Ginny took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. I'm ready." She stepped closer to him, and he held out his arm to her in an instinctive gesture that had been drilled into him from birth.
Both of them startled at the gesture, and their heads went up to stare at one another. Ginny found herself caught by his eyes. They had darkened to dark mercury as he stared at her. She saw the pulse speed up in his throat, and felt her body respond to him, even though they weren't touching.
Draco stared at her, his heart pumping blood furiously. All she had done was to look up at him, and he was captured by her eyes. They were like brown velvet-soft and gorgeous. He could drown in her eyes and never wish for another breath. He didn't even have time to analyze his own uncharacteristically sentimental thought, because her lips trembled open, and he felt his muscles tighten spasmodically, his brain wiped clean of all thought. Her cheeks flushed, and her lashes slipped down over her eyes, although he could still feel her gaze on him.
Trying to steady his own breathing, he offered her his arm again. She hesitated for a breath, as if she were a wild shy doe, then she slipped up to him and slid her arm through his. He had to resist his body's instinctive jerk as her body slid against his. She felt small and feminine against his larger, stronger body, and he felt that unusual leap of possessiveness and protectiveness seize him by the throat again.
It had already reared its ugly head once today. When those idiots at the door had tried to grab her, he had simply reacted. He hadn't thought about what he was doing--all he knew was that he didn't want them laying their beefy paws on his woman. Coupled with his possessiveness was a strong urge to stretch her out on the Minister's desk and taste her. He could already imagine what she'd taste like. Cinnamon and sugar, he thought, swallowing hard. And so sweet he could get high off her.
She looked up at him, her lashes lifting to give him a glimpse of her fascinating eyes again. "Draco?" she murmured, and his heart thumped painfully. It was the way she said his name. Like a caress. Not the way that she said his last name--full of disdain and boiling anger.
He looked down at her, and she obviously sensed his turmoil. She gently touched two fingers to his hand, and he saw her cheeks flush with heat with the simple touch. She looked up at him, her eyes glittering like stars in the night sky. "Are we ready?" she whispered again, her eyes searching his, her breath short.
"Yes," he murmured, and she shivered at the feel of it rumbling through her body. He laid his free hand over hers where it lay on his arm, and unconsciously curled his fingers around her smaller ones.
She looked up at him, feeling as if she were in a dream. It seemed like there was no one there except she and Draco. She felt snared by his unearthly silver eyes, and the heat from his body. She couldn't seem to keep from staring at his mouth and wondering if he would kiss her. She couldn't find room for recriminations in her mind. All she knew was that she desperately wanted his mouth on hers. Obviously he felt the same way, because his eyes had flared, and she had felt his body stiffen against hers.
Barely aware of leaving her uncle behind, Ginny let Draco lead her from the room. Her sense of mild euphoria faded as they stepped out of the door to meet Kenny and Anton again. She tore her gaze from Draco's as she looked guiltily at her two friends. She felt a wash of shame as they stared at her in disappointment and confusion. She dropped her gaze away from them, her steps starting to lag.
Draco frowned slightly, and his knuckle grazed over her cheekbone, raising her eyes back to his. "See only me," he breathed. He lowered his head toward her, his lips a breath away from hers. She could feel his warm breath touch her lower lip, and she unconsciously licked them, staring up at him, mesmerized.
She was abruptly jarred awake when a flash exploded behind her eyes. For one moment she thought Draco had kissed her and she had passed out. But when she felt the fluid movement of Draco's body step forward to shield her from the cameras, she realized that the reporters had finally braved the inner sanctum of the Ministry.
From behind the protection of Draco's back, she took a shaky, steadying breath. Then she slid her hand into Draco's larger one, feeling nerves skate up her spine at the sight of the crowd of reporters. Then she stepped up beside him. She felt more than saw his surprised look down at her, but she was smiling beautifully out into the cameras. His hand tightened around hers as he turned his attention back to the reporters as they eagerly crowded around the couple.
"Mr. Malfoy!" A middle-aged, balding man shouted as he viciously shoved his way to the front of the pack. "Ms. Weasley! Is there something you'd like to share with the public?"
"Yes," Ginny said, her voice quiet and serene. The reporters silenced quickly so she could be clearly heard, and Draco felt a little niggle of admiration. She had them firmly in the palm of her hand in mere seconds. "Draco and I are married. We were married yesterday afternoon by the Minister of Magic."
Shouts and cries of shock immediately filled the hall as the reporters pressed closer eagerly, and Draco glanced down at her. She looked up at him, and he frowned slightly. He could have sworn that he saw trepidation in her eyes. Then he blinked rapidly. Merlin's beard, was she afraid of crowds? Just as the thought occurred to him, her lashes slid down to shield the expression in her eyes. But she unconsciously shifted closer to his body.
Draco blinked again as he realized that somehow his assumption had been right. On the heels of that thought came another irritating wave of that damnable protectiveness he was feeling for her lately. This time he didn't try to struggle against it. "Everyone back off." His voice was savage and icy and effectively silenced the crowd, who took a large step back from the couple. Whereas Ginny had silenced them with her calm serenity and elegance, Draco had done it with fear. They were afraid of him, which suited him just fine. I just backed them off because I don't want to be crowded, he told himself consolingly. I didn't do it for her. But he felt a little breath of relief when she seemed to relax slightly at his side.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Anton and Kenny were both glaring at her back. Bristling and wanting to rip off their heads just on the general principle that they upset her and irritated him, Draco defiantly slid his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his side. Startled, her gaze flew up to meet his. He almost glared down at her, irritated that her idiotic boyfriends were acting so stupidly. To his surprise, she didn't glare back at him. Almost as if she were afraid to, her hand inched up and touched her fingertips to his high, aristocratic cheekbone.
There was a flurry of flashes, but neither noticed, too enthralled in each other. Draco bent from his height towards her, almost as if he were drawn by an invisible thread, and felt her sharply indrawn breath. "Kiss me?" he whispered, the words sounding more like a command than a request.
Her lips curved slightly for a moment, and then his mouth was on hers. She felt her body tremble once before he tucked her close against him, his fingers grazing over the pulse beating in her throat as his mouth caressed hers. Her eyes slid shut, her fingers tightening her hold on his shoulder and her body softening against his.
Draco felt his head whirl. I was right, he thought in a daze. She tastes like cinnamon and sugar. Then all rational thought fled his mind as her mouth tentatively opened under his. His hands slid down her back and pressed her against him, but his mouth was still soft on hers, hesitant, testing. He felt her body tremble beneath the gentle onslaught, and he slowly released her, feeling his insides knot at leaving the warmth of her mouth. He leaned away from her, staring down at her and feeling slightly breathless. Her eyes fluttered open to stare up at him, and he felt like he had taken a fist to the gut. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and sensuous, her mouth swollen and wet. Her hand came up again to brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes, her touch tender, and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.
Abruptly, they were awakened from their daze by the increasingly loud shouts. Draco turned, feeling more confident in his right to tug Ginny under his sheltering arm. She went against him willingly, feeling a little dazed. Who knew Draco Malfoy had such gentleness in him? she wondered dreamily. He had touched her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. As if they hadn't just told one another that they hated each other but ten minutes ago. Like he actually cared about her.
"That's enough," Draco said brusquely, taking a step forward toward the exit. "We've answered enough questions. I'm taking my wife home."
There were some knowing chuckles from the throng of reporters, and Draco nearly snarled at them, feeling like he was on a hair-trigger. He kept Ginny tucked close against him, knowing that if a male approached her he would have to snarl like a dog over a bone. He took another step toward the exit, and the reporters in his way scattered, although continued to protest the couple's departure. Finally one brave soul shouted over the rest, "Mrs. Malfoy! It's well known that you fought beside Harry Potter in the battle against You-Know-Who! What does he think of your marriage to Mr. Malfoy?"
Ginny felt Draco's body turn to stone, and she was momentarily shocked at the reporter's audacity. She detatched herself from Draco and turned slowly. "Mr. Potter wishes me well," Ginny said, enunciating clearly. "He is happily married to his own wife and I'm sure wishes me every happiness." She eyed the reporter narrowly, and sure enough the woman was quick to speak up again.
"I'm sure we're all aware of Mr. Potter's marriage to Hermione Granger, Mrs. Malfoy. But there were rumors that you had a fling with him back in your Hogwarts days."
Ginny nearly erupted. Would her silly childhood crush on Harry never leave her? She gritted her teeth but forced herself to speak calmly and coherently. "It's true that I had a crush on Harry in my first year at Hogwarts. What woman wouldn't?" There were several nervous titters from the women reporters as they imagined Harry's lean, muscular form that so often graced the pages of newspapers and magazines. Ginny felt Draco's body start to vibrate with rage, and she continued calmly. "However, I left behind my crush on Harry many years ago. He is a dear friend and much like a brother to me, and that's all."
Then she dismissively turned her back on the crowd and took Draco's hand and started to walk out. His hand crushed around hers so hard that she nearly gasped, tears springing to her eyes. But he didn't look at her, just dragged her out of the room and onto the landing area that was momentarily deserted. "Let's go, Weasley," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Then he Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Sighing, Ginny Apparated a moment behind him, knowing that their moments of companionship and shared passion were gone.