Drink With Thine Eyes

This is just a fluffy one-shot I wrote because I couldn't get inspiration for any of my other stories. Warning: Does contain an OOC Draco.

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Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
~Ben Jonson

He found her in the Astronomy Tower. For once it was empty of furiously snogging couples, as most of the student body was gone from Hogwarts for their Christmas break. He had heard that her family was visiting a brother somewhere, and so Ron and Ginny had had to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays. For himself, he had no desire to return to Malfoy Manor--to his cold father and mother and his even colder house. He was perfectly content to remain at Hogwarts and brood in his own room. But eventually he had grown tired of his self-induced solitude and gone prowling. Although Filch still roamed the halls, he was more lenient since it was the holidays and there were few students still left. That left most of the castle open for Draco's exploration.

He had come up here because he had always loved the sky. It was open and full of possibilities--quite different from the earth to which he was bound. And it seemed as though he was bound to everything in his life. Forsworn. The word seemed to apply to everything in his life. He was the Malfoy heir, placed on the path of a future Deatheater--no matter what his feelings were on the prospect--and he had been affianced since the day of his birth. It seemed everywhere that he turned he was supposed to be someone that he just didn't feel like. But he forgot all that when he could lay outside and stare up at the stars--to contemplate what he might have been had he not been the Malfoy heir.

As he stopped in the doorway and saw her, his lip wanted to automatically curl. It wasn't so much her person as much as her presence that offended him. He had wanted solitude--not the enforced, claustrophobic solitude of his room but the open, free solitude that he gained from lying on his back beneath the sky. In fact, she was perhaps one of the only people that he could have tolerated to see. He had begun to notice the youngest Weasley more and more. Somehow over the years she had grown into a beautiful woman, and now half the male population of Hogwarts was either publicly pursuing her or privately lusting after her. Over time her carrot red hair had darkened to an exotic wine-red that fell in silky waves over her shoulders and halfway down her back. Seeing that tousled hair, Draco's hands fairly itched to spear his fingers into those waves and tilt her head up to him.

He shook himself fiercely. Despite her physical beauty, she was still a Weasley. Although he didn't share a great many of his father's views, Draco still bore no love for any of the Weasleys. Ron had perpetuated the feud that their parents had created, and Draco could do no less. Besides, although Ginny had matured and grown beautiful, Ron was still the gangly youth with carroty hair that he had always been, which constantly reminded Draco of their first meeting when their enmity had been declared.

Draco stepped into the room, his considering gaze still on her. She knelt at the window, leaning her elbows upon the windowsill as she stared out pensively into the velvety darkness. She seemed as though she was supplicating the night, and it caused a little hitch in Draco's chest. The moonlight spilled over her ivory skin with its dusting of gold freckles, and made her cheeks seem even higher, her chocolate eyes dark and mysterious. She seemed like a pagan priestess of old praying to her goddess.

He deliberately stepped hard upon a creaky board and her head whipped around, eyes flaring wide and hands tensing upon the window. When she saw it was him, her eyes narrowed, but she relaxed. Draco watched her reactions in blatant fascination. Although he obviously irritated her, she had relaxed. She wasn't physically afraid of him. Was that because she trusted him, or just men in general? he wondered absently.

"Malfoy, what are you doing up here?" she asked him shortly. He could feel her gaze move over him like caressing hands, and he had to suppress his shiver. He nearly blinked. She had done nothing more than look at him, and yet he wanted her. Badly enough that he had to check his steps toward her for a moment.

"I have as much right as you to be here, Weasley." To his irritation, his voice wasn't as harsh as he had meant it to be. Rather, it was soft and silky, without the latent threat that sometimes accompanied his words.

He saw her little shiver, and nearly smiled in satisfaction. So he wasn't the only one affected. She thought him attractive as well. He stepped closer toward her and then knelt gracefully across from her.

For a long moment, they didn't speak, merely stared at one another. Draco's gaze moved over her face, touching each feature in turn with his eyes, and seeing her do the same. "Why are you up here?" Ginny asked him softly, her pink tongue touching her lips nervously.

Draco felt that little jitter in his stomach again at the sight of her tongue. "Quite possibly the same reason you are," he murmured.

Her lips curved into a small smile that he watched in fascination. "Somehow I doubt that," she said dryly. "I came up here to escape from Dean."

Draco's eyes narrowed to slits in an instant. "Thomas? What's wrong with him?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose, a gesture that made her look like an adorable elf for a moment. "He's pestering me to go to the one of the House balls with him."

"Just tell him no," Draco said shortly.

Her mouth quirked slightly. "Don't you think I have? He's awfully persistent. And why am I having this conversation with you, of all people?"

"Because," Draco murmured, and didn't elaborate. They fell silent again, staring at one another. Finally Draco noticed that she held a small wooden cup in her hands. "What are you drinking there, Weasley?"

Startled, almost as if she had forgotten she held it, she glanced down at the cup in her hands. "Oh! It's just some spiced cider. It's a little cold up here."

For the first time, Draco noticed that there was a decided chill in the room. With the windows open in the middle of winter, it was no wonder, he thought dryly. He noticed that she wore no cloak, and she shivered every once in a while. "Why didn't you wear a cloak, little weasel?" He absently noted that his voice had gone husky, and he could see her pulse hammer in her throat in response.

"I forgot," she whispered, staring at him, her chocolate eyes wide.

Draco broke the eye contact and pulled his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over hers. She held very still as he leaned closer to her, and he clasped the cloak around her throat. He allowed himself to linger for a moment longer than necessary, and smelled the scent of vanilla that clung faintly to her hair. When he drew back, she was watching him with intent eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Won't you be cold?"

Draco's smile was small, but there nonetheless. "No. I rarely get cold."

They fell silent, and Ginny asked hesitantly, "Would you like some cider?"

His eyes dropped to the cup. He could see the faint dampness from where her mouth had touched the cup, and he shivered slightly at the thought of touching the same place with his mouth.

"Are you cold?" Ginny asked, concerned.

He shook his head quickly. "No. No, I'm fine. And yes, I'd like some cider."

Ginny smiled, then her lashes slid down over her eyes as she raised the cup to her lips. Her eyelids flickered back up and held him immobile as she held the cup motionlessly to her lips. He almost didn't realize when she removed the cup and held it out to him.

"Here you go," she murmured. She hesitated, then said very softly, "Draco."

He shivered again. Her voice was like a sensual caress on his heated body. He took the cup from her, his fingers brushing her cool ones as he did so. She jerked as if prodded by an electric shock, and her hand hovered for a moment in mid-air, then she dropped them into her lap.

Staring at her with intense gray eyes, Draco touched his mouth to the cup. He could feel the warmness from where her mouth had been a moment before. He sipped cautiously at the warm cider, then purposefully set it aside.

He slid closer to her, his hand coming up to touch a tendril of burgundy hair by her face. She held still, her watchful eyes on his. "Are you playing with me?" she breathed, her eyes following his.

"Do I look like I'm playing?" he murmured to her, meeting her eyes steadily. She let out a little breath and her body leaned slightly toward his.

"No," she whispered. "You don't. This is so odd, Draco."

He laughed softly, his breath steaming in the cool air. "Is it, little weasel? I don't quite think so."

He slid his palm across her cheek, feeling worn calluses slide over silken soft skin. His fingers slid into her hair, his thumbs meeting under her chin as he tilted her head up to his. He didn't speak, just stared at her for a moment. When he didn't speak, her hand fluttered up to touch gentle fingertips to his cheek. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her hands on him, then he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was whisper-light, so soft she wasn't sure that he had really kissed her at first. Her eyes shot open, to find his face still close to hers. She felt his warm breath on her eyelid as he kissed first one eye, then the next, closed. "Didn't your mother teach you it's not polite to stare?" he whispered teasingly, and felt her body move with her soft chuckle.

He touched his mouth to hers again, taking his time to explore her soft lips. She shifted restlessly, moving toward him. He kept her face imprisoned between his hands that were tangled in her hair and kept control of the kiss. He felt her fingers flutter around her face again before she slid her fingers into his hair. She drew his head away, and he saw that her pulse was hammering almost as fast as his.

"If you're going to kiss me, Draco, then kiss me," she breathed, and his eyes flared. This time it was she who initiated the kiss, pressing her mouth to his--nipping, sliding her mouth teasingly over his and his hard jawline to press butterfly kisses to his face. He buried his face at her throat, his tongue touching her skin teasingly. She gasped at the touch, and with satisfaction he felt her stiffen in his arms.

Seconds later he raised his head to see his mark rising on her pale throat. He met her eyes, and saw that she looked shaky. Before he could kiss her again, she leaned forward and laid her head on his shoulder. Startled, his arms came around to balance her before he had fully realized what she had done. He hesitated for a moment, then stroked her hair with hesitant movements.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice a baritone rumble in his chest.

"I think this is a little too much for right now," she said softly, her voice muffled by his chest.

When she felt him stiffen with outrage, she said hurriedly, "Just for right now." She raised her head to smile teasingly at him. "You're too good of a kisser not to have a repeat performance."

He smirked, but she wasn't irritated by it as she usually was. He brushed his knuckles across her face and smiled slightly at her. "You're not so bad at it yourself, little weasel."

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and ducked her head self-consciously. Then she looked back up at him. "Why did you come up here?"

He shrugged. "To be quiet. To see the stars."

She smiled at him. "Is that so? Well then don't let me keep you." She started to rise to her feet, but he refused to release her hand.

"Stay," he said softly, staring up at her with an odd look on her face. "Stay here with me for a while."

She hesitated, torn. "Draco--"

"I won't touch you," he said persuasively. Then he admitted, "Okay, well, not much."

A smile tugged at her lips as she stared down at him. Finally she knelt beside him again. "I suppose a little while won't hurt," she allowed, and saw his triumphant grin flash before he tugged her into his lap, wrapping one arm around her.

She blinked up at him. "This isn't touching me?"

He grinned down at her. "Didn't say I wasn't going to sit you where I wanted you, did I?"

Her lips twitched, and she withdrew his cloak and tugged it around him. "You're freezing," she murmured. When she saw him about to protest, she said firmly, "Don't argue. I'm quite warm enough where I am." Her eyes twinkled up at him, and he relaxed.

"If you say so," he murmured, winking down at her. Smiling to herself, she leaned her head against his shoulder and stared out the window.

Draco glanced down at her--at the smooth curve of her throat and cheek, the swollen mouth--and felt something ground inside him. Something that he hadn't realized he had been looking for. With a little sigh, he settled back against the wall and wrapped his arms around her. He laid his cheek on the crown of her head and stared out into the velvet darkness of the night.