For two days, they did not speak. Sunday morning found Ginny having a lie-in of epic proportions, but it was nothing more than a careful contrivance to ensure she'd not encounter Draco at breakfast. When she finally had to come to the kitchen, she resolutely kept her eyes glued to her plate.
Monday was a little better, as she was out most of the day, and Draco found himself locked in the long salon of Grimmauld Place with his cousin Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Supper was the only obstacle, and it was a race to see who could be excused from the table first.
Monday night, Ginny lay in her bed, which seemed so big without another presence. She knew she rightly should have enjoyed it, having her room back, and to herself. But she didn't. She still lay on her side of the bed only, as if she was leaving it open for Draco to come and claim. He wouldn't. Whatever they had was now irretrievably broken down, and it rankled.
She wasn't a schoolgirl scared of the Slytherin bully any longer. In fact, she was ruddy pissed off, and was pretty sure she could demand an explanation. Such feelings were an oddity to her, but at the very least there had to be a reason for the demise of their easy camaraderie.
Fuck it. Heaving her blankets off, she planted her feet on the floor and sprang up, searching for her wand and slippers to soften her footfalls. As quietly as a hacked-off Weasley could manage, she descended the stairs. Stopping in front of the door that had so recently been her own, she put her hand to the doorknob and nearly fell inside the door she expected to be tightly closed.
From the darkness, his cool voice rose and resonated in the close walls.
"Shut that behind you."
She scowled, though he couldn't see it. "Thought I'd leave it open for giggles."
Her uncharacteristic words brought a smile to his lips, as unseen as her scowl.
Standing in front of the door gave her the advantage of easy escape, and furthest distance, though admittedly that distance wasn't much. Her hands went automatically to her hips, and Draco could almost hear her squaring her stance.
"Want to tell me what's going on here?" she asked coolly.
"You've come to visit me in the cupboard."
Groaning, she wrangled her wand out of her pajama pocket. "Silencio!" she hissed. Satisfied the spell covered the entire room, she yelled.
"What did I ever do to you, you prick? I make sure you live through the night the first time you're brought here, heal your injuries, take you along with me - and at great personal risk, I might add - and listen to you snark all day long, and Saturday I'm summarily dismissed. Care to explain that?"
"I did not dismiss you, mouthy bint! I just didn't know what else to do!" he shouted back at her, shooting out of the bed and stalking toward her.
"Know what else to do?" she questioned. "I wasn't aware of any problem."
Immediately, he clammed up.
"What? What is the problem?" she persisted angrily.
"Nothing," he said tightly.
"It's obviously something," she pointed out.
"Look, Ginny, it's personal, okay? Can you just leave it at that? I swear on my mother's life that I'm not mad at you, you didn't do anything to me, nothing like that. Just go with it."
Considering she experienced a nearly identical day to day life as Draco, she couldn't for the life of her figure out what his little personal problem was. She didn't think Draco would be so vehement over nothing. Still, his impassioned admission that she'd not done anything wrong did leave her vaguely relieved. She surmised that she'd never know all his secrets and motives, and maybe it was better that way.
His touch scared her witless, as he'd apparently been standing not three paces away. In the pitch-black, windowless room, there was no way to even discern his outline. A broad hand took hers and began leading her toward the bed.
"Stay here," he said, voice one notch above imploring. She allowed herself to be led.
"Don't know why I bother," she said, mock petulantly.
"Because if you're anything like me, you spent last night lying on your side for no good reason."
She had no comeback, no rejoinder, for his succinct and completely correct statement.
The darkness made them bump into one another a few times as they settled themselves, but soon Ginny found Draco's heat at her back. Feeling content for the first time in forty eight hours, she let her eyes slide shut.
***
It seemed only moments later that Draco was awakened by subdued thrashing. Ginny was whimpering and muttering, her left arm and leg pushing and sometimes kicking against him.
"No, no," she whispered. "Leave him alone. Run! Get out of here!" Her voice hitched, and Draco was sure she was crying.
In a scarily automatic gesture, Draco slid his arms around her midriff and pulled her back to him. Clasping his hands on the bare skin exposed by her rucked-up tee shirt, he kissed the back of her neck.
"It's okay, you're all right," he intoned softly, placing his lips here and there on her nape. He repeated the words several times, and her restless body stilled. Confident that she was sleeping, Draco found a soft spot for his head on the pillow and breathed in the scent of her hair.
Two smaller, smoother hands covered his, and he was instantly on his guard.
"Draco," she whispered, running her fingertips over his interlaced knuckles. "What are you doing?"
"You were having a bad dream," he breathed. "This seemed to calm you," he continued, flexing his hands ever so slightly on her abdomen, the skin so hot he thought he was branded.
"I'm okay now," she said, not making any effort to move. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Her hands remained atop his, stroking his long fingers and caressing his knuckles. And then they were pulling his hands apart, spreading out his fingers and placing them separately on her belly. He waited for her to carefully nudge his hands back to where they belonged. Instead, she moved his hands closer to her bare breasts.
"Gin," he rasped, feeling his erection flare insistently and carelessly shortening her name.
Inexorably he was pushed closer still.
"Shut up," she said. And kiss me.
***
The weight and softness of her breasts felt like they should never be anywhere other than in his hands. Hissing as her hard-tipped nipples grazed his palms, he pressed himself against her buttocks and let her feel his erection.
"Merlin fuck me," he swore softly, pulling insistently on her nipples, making her gasp and moan.
"He'd have to wait in line," she murmured breathlessly, and his control snapped.
Draco unceremoniously hauled her atop him, ignoring her surprised squeak. Making sure his hardness nestled in the hot softness covered by her pajama bottoms, he made short work of her tee shirt and she reciprocated by yanking his over his head so hard he thought he would lose his left ear.
No matter. Spearing his hand through her hair, he pulled her down to meet his mouth.
Oh. This was nothing like their kiss before. This was hotter, wetter, infinitely more satisfying. His other hand slid down the groove of her spine to squeeze her buttock and press her harder into him. Groaning into her mouth, Draco began to buck very slowly, just enough to leave her gasping against his lips.
She broke free to gulp air, and reached behind her to knot her hair out of the way.
"No, I like it," he said, and she wondered how he could even tell in this absolute darkness. "Let it down."
"It's hot," she complained.
"Mmmhmm," he agreed, pulling her back down, this time using his own hands to thread through her hair and hold it away from her face.
Tongues intertwined, only their moans and gasps broke the silence.
Draco broke away this time, sounding slightly winded.
"Move up here," he commanded, but already moving her to his liking, her arse now somewhere around his belly. Gods, every soft whisper of worn flannel against his skin set him afire. When he felt one of her breasts touch his cheek, he stopped pushing her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, not really caring.
"Tasting," he replied, before setting hot mouth and nibbling teeth to her nipple. Her fingernails digging into his shoulder were sweet pain, and nuzzling her velvet skin with his nose and lips was like ambrosia from above. With both hands now free, Draco wasted no time in kneading the rounded flesh of her arse as he licked and suckled on her delightfully responsive nipples.
Ginny could feel wetness seeping from her at an alarming rate, and somewhere in the back of her mind a voice screamed that she was surely dampening Draco's skin through her pajamas. And she was absolutely convinced she could smell her own arousal and couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or not.
Finally, he stopped worshipping her breasts and his voice dropped a register.
"I want you to turn over on me, lie back, and take off your pajamas," he said, lips at her ear.
She shivered.
"Couldn't I just get up?" she questioned.
"I don't want you off me."
Gingerly, she acquiesced, allowing his strong arms to hold her in place as she laid herself on him, her back to his chest, and slipped off her trousers. A heady scent rose immediately and she could feel her entire body suffuse with a hot blush.
"Turn over, and slide up my chest," he commanded.
Slowly she made the rotation, knowing that sliding up his body would press her sex against him, and in turn leave a fragrant trail of wetness up his center. Her curls were drenched, and she could feel her ears burning at the indignity.
He apparently had different ideas.
"Yeah, that's it, come right up here," he rasped, hooking his arms around her spread thighs and pulling her inexorably toward his waiting mouth. He could feel her slickness on the smooth skin of his chest, and his cock jumped a little, knowing her scent would still be on him in the morning.
He brought her to rest somewhere about his collarbones, and stroked her soft thighs. Heat radiated from her center, and he stretched out his tongue to just sweep across the outer skin of her cleft.
"I'm not going to fuck you tonight," he said conversationally. "I'm not about to do it when I can't see you. And when I have my cock deep inside, I want to - have to - see your face."
Her breathing wavered erratically, a mental picture of the act racing into her mind's eye and making her body clench in sweet response.
"I'm going to make you come for every time you unintentionally made me hard by nursing my bloody foot back to health. And for every time you lay there in the morning, gorgeous and asleep, and I wanted to wake you up like this."
His blazingly hot tongue split her folds and she screamed, never having felt something so exquisite in her entire life. In the war, no man had ever had time to taste her, hold her, kiss her.
Her body could have been boneless for all the support it provided her. In the end, she had to settle for running her fingers through Draco's thick, silken mop or holding onto the bedposts. Before she realized it, her hips were ever so slightly grinding her against his ravenous mouth, and his strong hands were encouraging it.
Concentration on her clit made her cry out repeatedly, and when his name passed her lips in reverent tones, he stepped up his assault. Her thighs trembled as he tasted her entrance, delving deeply into her.
An orgasm like she'd never felt before began to well up inside her, and everything between her breasts and her knees tingled sharply. He played her flesh like an instrument he had studied all his life, and she was keening.
Her passage began to tighten, the rush of completion coming. Hazily, she wished for his fingers, for something, to fill her as she came.
She would never know if she spoke her desire, but suddenly he pushed her up and forward and neatly slid two fingers into her.
Her cries reverberated off the silenced walls of the tiny room. Draco tasted and lapped every drop from her, and pressed his tongue against her too-sensitive clit simply to draw shuddering aftershocks from her body.
Before she could collapse atop him, he pressed her hips back down until he could kiss her, which he did. Hungrily.
It should have been shocking, distasteful, even. She kissed him back with every breath she could muster.
Later, much later, their kisses had reduced to tiny licks and nibbles, and her head finally rested on his shoulder. He had refused to let her off him, and despite his defined body, was a very nice pillow.
"You have to be gone in the morning," he said languidly, unhappily, pajama-pant-covered cock lodged securely between her damp thighs.
"I know," she sighed, breath tickling his skin.
He rested his cheek against the cushion of her hair. If betraying family pride was this sinful, he'd sign up to have his head buried between Ginny Weasley's thighs -- right in front of his father.
***
He woke when she reluctantly left, pressing a kiss to the valley between her breasts as she struggled to move her stiff body off his. He dozed for several more hours, then finally let wakefulness suffuse him. His cock stood proudly as he remembered the events of hours barely past. As he stroked himself to sweet release, he pictured them lolling in his bed, locked in a heady soixante-neuf. Hot streams of release spurted onto his chest as he made one last upward pull, a lazy smile curling his lips.
Dressing and purposely not bothering to shower or wash beforehand, he strolled into the kitchen where Lupin, Snape, and Bill Weasley were eating. Lupin was closest, and his head was already turned when Draco entered, his eyes hard and accusing, nose lifted slightly. The werewolf's ugly snarl softened when Ginny walked in moments later.
Delighting in watching the confused beast, Draco saw Lupin's head snap toward Ginny, then back to Draco, obviously not sure why he smelled Ginny on Draco, but not Draco on Ginny.
Before taking his seat, Draco quirked an eyebrow at the furious professor and smirked.
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