The Way to a Man's Heart...

Chapter 1:

“The One Where Ginny gets a Job at Malfoy Mannor”

Disclaimer:

I obviously own none these characters because I am broke!

In the years it took her to achieve this Hermione Granger never expected the outcome to be so extreme. Of course, it was a liberation of sorts, the house elves leaving their homes in retaliation for years of service without pay. Some chose to stay for meager allowances that scarcely justified their services to the family, but those cases were few and far in between. There were half way houses being set up for the homeless elves making their transition into individual members of the magical community. Some wizards were happy about this, saying it was a long time and coming. More were sending howlers and, um, other things to Ms. Granger’s office. It was fast becoming a necessity to move the young witch to a place that was unplotable. This, in turn, caused many difficulties for her flat mate, Ginny Weasley.

“Hermione, dear, did you have to do all that now while we’re still young enough to enjoy a happy and healthy life? Couldn’t you have waited to free the elves until, well, after I died, got married, moved out, what ever comes last?!?” Ginny screamed, throwing the bag of letters and howlers that were owled in this morning at her roomie’s door. “You better come out and face this, I hope that you have an alternate source of funds available because I just got sacked from my job today for merely knowing you, let alone living with you. My boss had three house elves he lost due to your amendment and was not to pleased. Hermione, will you answer me please!”

Slowly the letter battered door opened and out stepped Hermione, only it was not a Hermione that Ginny was used to. This Hermione had red rimmed eyes and (oh my god, please don’t laugh, do not laugh GINNY!) ears and mouth that better suited Dobby.

“Who did this to you?”

Hermione sniffed and her nose fluctuated to that of a house elf and back to her normal pointed one. “I opened a letter. It looked like our monthly rent bill but it was, well, something else. I’ve reversed most of the effects, but I can’t seem to get rid of this!” she wildly waved her arms towards her face and burst into tears once more. Ginny sighed. At least her day had not been as dreadful as her friend’s.

“I’ll floo Mum. She may be able to do something.”

* * *

By the end of the night Hermione’s ears and mouth were back to normal, but the problem with her nose had yet to be solved. Ginny had found the source of the hex laying on the desk in the study. It contained one sentence:

Maybe now you will be more suitable to your affiliates.

Ginny almost laughed when she saw this, thinking of what a perfect prank this would be if it was pulled by Fred and George. She could almost see it now on the shelf at their shop, right next to the ant antennae suckers:

Lost your house elf and in dire need of a replacement? Come to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and pick up a supply of instant elf, the one hex guaranteed to turn the recipient into a fully operational house elf.

Ginny crumbled the note and tossed it in the small waste bin next to the desk. She fumbled around the room for a few minutes looking for the morning’s Daily Profit for the want ads. With Ron’s wedding coming up she desperately needed to not be unemployed for long amounts of time. She was supposed to be Luna’s maid of honor and that required a dress, accessories, and throwing a bacholorette party. All those things require and abundance of disposable income which Ginny did not have in her possession. After a few more minutes searching she found what she was looking for. The her surprise this morning’s edition was thicker than usual. Upon further inspection it was revealed that this was due to the large number of job openings in the fields of housekeeper, butler, maid, gardener, and (the most appealing to Ginny) chef. There was even an address to owl a resume to that would find you employment suitable for you in the ever expanding (translation being ‘house elf vacant‘) field of home services. Ginny quickly charmed a quill to write her resume along with her current immediate availability for work and left the room to find her owl, Pig.

Three hours later a small and fidgety owl deposited a rather extensive resume on the desk of the proprietor of Zabini Employment. The dark haired man behind the desk fed the small creature a treat and picked up the letter to scan it’s contents. A mischievous smirk appeared on his face when he read the name.

Blaise laughed. “Ms. Weasley, I know exactly where you will be most needed, and immediately as well.”

***

Narcissa Malfoy was not in a good mood. She had just lost her second house elf this year do to another of Draco’s old school mates. In addition she had missed her morning massage, three visitors (no one had answered the door and she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it), and every meal. No one had cooked. Once she realized the problem she immediately flooed her son Draco at his job in the Ministry of Magic to fix it. Although he looked slightly irritated he coolly informed her he had contacted an agency that would be taking care of everything and it should be back to normal by dinner tonight. He wouldn’t be home until late so she would have to see to the particulars and cousin Blaise would be by to assist her. Have a nice day.

Oh, and he also informed her she would have to answer the door, it was probably Blaise she was ignoring.

Narcissa sat in the foyer for the rest of the day. Her shoulders ached, her stomach made obscene noises, and she noticed dust on the table and sofa in the room. When the visitor came again she rushed to the door and flung it open, a look of hope and expectation on her face. Standing before her was son’s third cousin Blaise Zabini and he had with him an entourage of three. One was a balding middle aged wizard with pale blue eyes and gray hair. The next was slightly younger than the male, a witch with black hair and a pudgy build. The third was a small wisp of a girl, looking barely older than 17 with her flame red hair pulled back into quite a severe bun. On her young angelic face she wore no make up and her ears and neck were naked of any adornments. She was dressed in black robes that reminded Narcissa of her son’s old school uniform. She placed her attention back on Blaise. “Come in and situate the staff. I would like a short introduction to each and I will inform them of what their duties shall be.” Narcissa stepped to the side to allow her new employees in, each meeting her eyes as they entered, each offering a faint smile. Each, except for the last. The pale red haired girl kept her eyes glued to the floor, seemingly mesmerized by the spacing in between each marble tile.

“Girl, what is your name?’ She directly addressed the child. Honey brown eyes looked up at her and the child opened her mouth to speak, but Blaise jumped in between the two females.

“This is your new chef. She has references from Le Martinique and one very personal one from a family friend of my mother’s. She also has had extensive training in apparation and disapparation of inanimate objects, such as your meals, Mrs. Malfoy. In short, you will never know she is here, her presence will never be required anywhere but your kitchen.”

Narcissa looked perplexed for a minute, her brows furled, and her mouth went into a hard line. The look she bore was as if something of importance were eluding her, her grasp was nearly there, but not quite. Then her expression cleared and she let whatever was (or in her case, was not) going on in her head go. She looked to Ginny and smiled.

“The kitchen is to my right through the hall and around the corner. Dinner is served promptly at 7:30 in the Malfoy household and I expect a three course meal every night. Neither I nor my son enjoy salads so you can skip that, and my son does not particularly enjoy ham. Breakfast is at 10:30, and lunch at 3 in the afternoon. I live in a late rising schedule and my meals accommodate such. The only meal my son shares with me is dinner, so I prefer it to be impressive, to say the least. And without interruptions.” Narcissa motioned to her right with her hand in a lax gesture of giving an order. “Go to it girl. I have not eaten all day and it is almost three.”

Ginny nodded and nearly ran to the kitchen, tears stinging her eyes. At that moment she knew why the Malfoys were notorious for their treatment of their subordinates. In that woman’s eyes Ginny was so far below her on the social scale that she didn’t even recognize her.

* * *

Blaise lead the staff through their duties. Kaenery was the maid and overall head of house. She would see that Ginny got all the supplies she needed in the kitchen; it was Ginny’s duty to provide her with a list on Sunday morning for the rest of the week. Conner, the butler, took care of guests and general house cleaning with Kaenery. While Ginny and Conner were allowed to leave after their duties were over, Kaenery was to reside on the property in a guest room. If they needed time off or a vacation Blaise would see to a temporary replacement for that time. Mrs. Malfoy had one order she had given to all three. They were not to be seen unless called for.

The pay was substantial, and wanting to impress her new boss with her culinary skills Ginny made a light and airy spinach and sun dried tomato soufflé with cream cheese and mozzarella. For the protein of the meal she sautéed prong shrimp with scallops in a pinot grigio butter sauce. She then garnished the plate with a bit of fresh rosemary and ground chipotle. At exactly three p.m. Ginny waved her wand over the dish and watched as her masterpiece disappeared in front of her. With that done Ginny began her exploration of the cabinets and cooler of the Malfoy kitchen. She smiled to herself. With everything that this place had stocked she would be able to wow her employers for months, but most especially tonight.

Ginny removed her most prized possession from her robes, a cook book that was nothing but hand written recipes. Some were her mother’s (personal favorites of Ginny‘s). Others were a combination of things that she and Hermione had come up with, desserts, appetizers, some just drunken girls splattering the pages with flour and wine in an attempt to make something tasty, or in the least edible. Most were her own personal creations. What she wanted to prepare tonight was one of her favorites, but very simple. From the cooler she removed about two pounds of chicken breast and began to cut it up into centimeter thick slices. When she was done she placed the chicken in a bowl and added two tablespoons of worcestershire sauce, two table spoons of Italian seasoning and one teaspoon of jerk seasoning. She tossed the chicken in the bowl until it was evenly coated with the marinate and placed a chilling spell on the bowl so that it could set thoroughly.

This kitchen had one accessory that Ginny absolutely adored. When she would sit and dream about her big house fantasies and how she would decorate every room, the kitchen was the only room she saw clearly. It always had a marble island in the middle, but it also had the pots and pans hanging from a wire rack suspended from the ceiling. A gasp left her slightly parted red lips in utter awe. Ginny removed a small sauce pan from the rack and placed it on a simmering heat on the stove. She then added about a tablespoon of butter to the pan and waited for it to melt. As she did this she finely chopped green onions and minced a clove of garlic. By the time she was done the butter was sizzling. She sautéed the onions and garlic until the onions were a dark green. Ginny peered toward the cooler, eyeing what she needed.

“Accio cream,” and then added one cup of heavy whipping cream to the mixture. She left it to simmer at the lowest possible heat. She noted that the time was already six. Taking out a package of mozzarella she cast her wand to the table to do it the good, old-fashioned muggle way. She began shredding the cheese. When she had about a cup full she added it to the cream butter sauce. Now 6:30. Sighing that she’d have to use more magic than she wished to (Ginny was a hands on sort of girl, it was something she picked up from Hermione and their cooking nights) she set a spoon to continuously stir the sauce to melt, but not burn the cheese. Looking up again she picked another sauce pan, this one shallow and perfect for pan frying and searing. “Accio olive oil”, and then coated the bottom of the pan with a small layer. Setting that to medium heat she accio-ed the chicken as well. Once the oil moved smother than water over the pan she began to cook the chicken a few pieces at a time. Pan searing chicken gave a wonderful crisp texture to the poultry while locking in the moisture on the inside. She checked on the sauce and smirked to herself, it was smoothing out wonderfully. Ginny then flipped the pieces of chicken and went about shredding another cup of cheese.

* * *

Draco Malfoy’s steady steps could be heard only in the immediate area, so soft were his footfalls. He was familiar with his mother’s propensity to nap this time of the day and wished not to disturb her with his early return home. He noted with some interest that the furniture was cleaner than when he left, and the plants his mother loved to fill the house with since his father’s imprisonment had been watered. Also, no one greeted him at the door. Blaise must have done a good job picking the new help. On his way up the stairs to his room to bathe Draco left his work robe on the resting chair. He would check to see if it had been picked up before dinner.

* * *

Ginny surveyed her handiwork. She had filled up the bottom of two small casserole dishes with baby spinach leaves. On top of that she had placed the chicken and then covered it with cream sauce. Her chocolate chip cheese cake had come out of the oven thirty minutes before and she was finished preparing the apple and brown sugar dipping sauce she would be serving with the crab rangoon appetizer. With about 20 minutes left to go she topped both dishes with the extra shredded mozzarella and a light sprinkling of unsalted sunflower seeds. At seven thirty on the dot she sent out the rangoon and put the chicken dish into broil so that the top cheese would turn a tasty golden brown and also reheat the entire dish. She knew Conner had set a bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio out as well as water to match the meal. The wine was one of Ginny’s favorites and she knew it complimented the meal.

Watching the cheese color carefully she removed the chicken from the oven. Waving her wand and muttering a soft wingardium leviosa she transferred the ensemble to another plate. She topped the meal off with crumbled feta cheese and recalled the appetizer plates and smiled to herself when she found them both void of even the smallest crumb. Another quick wave of her wand and she sent the main course off for the Malfoy’s approval. She had been told by Kaenery to wait at least thirty minutes before serving dessert due to the fact that the mother and son spent a good bit of their time talking during their meal. Ginny couldn’t imagine what either of them had to say to each other.

“Dear, how was your hair today?”

“Fine mother, it stayed slicked back and perfect for the past twenty years, today was no different. How was your day?”

“Fine, I made the Weasley girl feel lacking by merely existing such as I do, and I brushed by hair until I fell asleep on the terrace.”

Ginny laughed at her imaginary conversation. As if those two had anything of merit to say to one another.

* * *

“Have you heard from your father? The new Minister has pushed to let prisoners send owls to members of their family as long as they are previewed by an Auror first.”

Draco tried to keep the look of disgust from appearing on his face at the mention of his father. Spending these past two years with out his presence since Voldemort’s demise had actually been quite pleasant for Draco. No longer in his father’s shadow he had taken control of many of the Malfoy businesses and made them more lucrative than his father ever could have. His only regret was protecting his mother from all his father’s deeds. If he had let her know from the start his father’s true role in the darker parts of the war she wouldn’t still have him on a pedestal the way she did.

He sighed, “No, mother, I have not heard from father. I’m sure he is quite busy in Azkaban.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes, “What, pray tell, do you think he does Draco? Twiddle his thumbs and sing ‘I’m a little tea pot?’”

“Particularly good dinner, don’t you agree mother? Who is out new cook again?”

“Very well, I will drop the subject for now. I didn’t catch her name, but she seems young, too young if you ask me. Very nondescript in her clothing. And shy, wouldn’t truly meet my eye. I almost told Blaise to send her back but he said she was a family friend of his mother’s. I wonder who, though.”

Draco noticed the look of emptiness in his mother’s eyes. She got this way when she was reminiscing about her life before his father. He knew Blaise’s mother and his had been friends at Hogwarts, but besides that his mother never mentioned any other old acquaintances. He knew he would have to ask Blaise for more information, or he could go right to the chef and ask her himself. Just then his empty dinner plate disappeared and was replaced with the most succulent dessert he had ever seen. This woman had managed to combine his two loves…. cheesecake and chocolate. The white square plate the slice sat on was adorned with chocolate syrup stripes and accented with raspberries. His wine had been replaced with a cappuccino and a glass of iced milk. Slowly, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful picture in front of him Draco delicately broke the top layer of his cheesecake with his dessert spoon and raised the bite to his mouth. Almighty Merlin, it was still warm. He risked a glance across the table to his mother. Her eyes were closed with absolute bliss. He knew that was the end of talk of his father tonight. He also knew he was going to meet to the cook as soon as he was done.

A/N: I wrote this for the LJ D/G contest The Feast. Unfortunately the version I submitted wasn’t completed or edited. I haven’t had this beta-ed so the mistakes are my own. Also, the food is real and good, nothing was invented (except by me in my kitchen).

I am a wino, the wine I mention is one of my favorites and runs about 20 a bottle, I highly suggest it.

Chapter 2:

“The One where Draco Meets the Chef”

Discalimer: I already did one in chapter 1, my situation has not changed. Oh, and I must give Beyonce credit for the lyrics I borrowed.

Ginny sat in her favorite chair gazing out the snowy window. Christmas was upon them and she had already survived her first two months at the Malfoy’s. On her first day she had left early to appease Hermione’s continuous Flooing the kitchen fireplace to check on her. She hadn’t realized the Malfoy’s dined that late and her flat mate was worried. She had sworn Hermione to secrecy about her new job so no one else but Hermione knew she was even there. She was at Malfoy Manor for Merlin’s sake! By the grace of her worried friend she had narrowly avoid a ‘ferret sighting’ as she later jokingly called it. Kaenery informed her the next day that the young Mister Malfoy had sought her out. He requested that she bake the cheesecake once a week at least. This brought a great deal of pride to Ginny.

Today was her off day. Technically. On Sunday morning all Ginny had to do was drop off her supply list to Kaenery and prep the food for the day. Usually for dinner she made a refrigerated desert the night before and the rest was bake and send. She gave Kaenery cooking lessons on Saturday nights and the two women usually enjoyed some wine and laughter while Ginny explained a few tricks that made some things come along simpler and tastier than traditional methods. As a result Kaenery cooked Sunday breakfast while Ginny gave instructions on how to set out dinner. The woman was a powerhouse that reminded her much of her own mother at home taking care of a house full of children and one decidedly flighty husband. She had, to Ginny’s dismay, not been at the Manor today. Conner said a family emergency occurred and she would be gone for the remainder of the week. He would be stepping in her position in the mean time and was fine to let Ginny continue to have her Sunday off. She also let Conner have Wednesdays off since it was the day the Malfoy home was the quietest. All in all Ginny was satisfied with her job. Her few objections to being placed in Malfoy Manor were smoothed over by Blaise. After assuring her that past the first day she would have little to no contact with the family he had also told her that Draco wouldn’t even recognize her should their paths cross. Then he made a very strategic move, he stroked her ego.

“The truth is, Ms. Weasley, no one else who applied is as qualified for the job as you are.”

Ginny smiled at the memory. I was nice to be told that you were the most qualified, even if the position was as a personal chef to the Malfoy family.

The sound of a creaking door jarred Ginny from her thoughts. Hermione made her way into the study and seated herself in the chair across from Ginny.

“How’s work?”

“Great. Ditto to you?”

Hermione shifted in her chair, “Still no luck. No one will hire me. I am Miss Hermione Granger, the witch who dispersed the house elves. I can’t go anywhere without being hexed, or at least being yelled at. I’m considering taking a Muggle holiday.”

Ginny nearly did a double take at this. A Muggle holiday was something she and her friend often joked about, getting a flat in London and partying down until the sun came up or later. It was just that, a joke. Ginny could see from the stress lines that had taken residence on her friend’s face all the drama was getting to her. Maybe it would be for the best.

“So how long are you going to be gone for? Until this whole house elf thing blows over?”

“Yeah. I know it’s very un-Gryffindor of me, but there’s a difference between bravery and just being fed up. I’m at the end of my tether with this Ginny. Any more and I may just snap one day and hex a room full of people with elf ears.”

“Are you going to tell Harry before you leave?”

Hermione’s answer was so low Ginny had to strain to hear it.

“I haven’t spoken to him since he moved in with Ron.”

“Translation being since he moved out. Bloody hell, Hermione, what happened between the two of you? I’ve asked my brother and he said two people as close as you and Harry shouldn’t live together, but they do just fine and so do we. Harry changes the subject whenever I bring up your name and you’re no better. What’s the big secret that I can’t know?”

“I made a mistake, a big one, and we need time.” Hermione sighed, her eyes closing as a bitter smile crossed her lips. “If even time is enough to fix it.”

Ginny knew she had gotten as far as she could on the subject, but it was further than she had gotten before. About four months prior Hermione had showed up at the Burrow with an offer Ginny could not refuse. Harry had moved out and she was in need of a flat mate, pronto. Ginny jumped on the offer only to find out later from her brother that Harry had moved out not from the pressures of living with a girl (as Ginny had figured, bras and hair stuff everywhere would drive any guy nutters) but because he and Hermione had a fight. A big one. One that Ron didn’t even know the reason of. Harry refused, although very politely, any attempts Ginny made to have him over. Hermione wouldn’t visit Ron at home, instead met she him out for lunch twice a week to catch up. They were at a stalemate, neither former roomies would budge.

“You can’t leave yet, we have to have one last weekend, you and me, a night with the girls. Saturday, we’ll go to a Muggle club in city that no one will know us at. We’ll rent a room and get insanely sloshed and sleep it off there. We can go just after I get off of work, I’ll even bring my clothes with me and meet you there.”

Hermione perked up a little. “Sounds great. I can endure five more days of hiding in shadows.”

* * *

Draco made his way to the kitchen strait from coming home from work. Monday was always a bad day, he had the weekend’s profits from the Malfoy businesses to review and reports to turn in. The only thought that had seen him through his hectic day was cheesecake, more precisely the one he could have made for him fresh at home. With his mother on vacation to visit her family (some distant cousin whose saving grace was a villa in the south of France) he had no need for a formal dinner. Just cheesecake, and lots of it. Narcissa had Flooed him shortly after four to inform him that she was leaving, a last minute decision. A week, or a few more, without his mother in the house was Draco’s idea of a vacation. He was near vomiting with her constant requests to write his father. Whenever he would ask why if she wouldn’t write her own husband why did he have to do it, she would stammer off into something about ‘not having the proper words.’ Whatever those were. Draco’s musing were interrupted by a sight he never expected to see in his house (or anywhere else) when he opened the kitchen door.

There was a woman, not a child the way his mother had described her. On the counter was an odd shaped sort of thing with buttons and dials everywhere that was emitting music into the room. Music the woman was dancing to. Her red hair hung down her back in waves to the top of her arse, swaying with her movement. He had never seen a chef move like this. Dressed in a short black skirt and a loose fitting black sweater the woman moved in tune with the music, in one hand she held a whisk which she used as a microphone to sing into. Draco was mesmerized my her curvy trim legs that were fully on display.

“I’m feeling sexy, I wanna hear you say my name, boy.” She turned to face him, her eyes closed, she dipped down to the floor and raised herself in timing with the tempo. She turned around again and this time Draco could see a flash of a tight stomach and delicately curved waist from the slight lifting of the top. His breath caught in his throat. She was familiar, but Draco couldn’t place her.

“If you can reach me, you can feel my burning flame,” at this she turned around again. This time her eyes were completely open.

Shocked, Ginny dropped the whisk, her mouth frozen in an O of horror. Then, as if she had evaluated the situation and thought better of her present stance, stood up strait, smiled, and reached her hand out to shake his.

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Malfoy, I am your chef, Ginny Weasley.”

If a pin would have dropped in the room at that moment it would have been heard across the entire house, had it not been for the sound from the button and dial music maker.

“I want cheesecake for dinner. And milk. And coffee. My mother will not be here. Um, chocolate cheesecake. Warm, uh, understood?”

Ginny flashed him a dazzling smile. Once again for the second time in five minutes he found it difficult to breathe. “What ever you desire Mr. Malfoy. Anything else you wish me to prepare for you?” Ginny placed a look of mock obedience on her face, her mind racing a kilometer a minute. She needed this job and he hated her family.

Draco looked around the kitchen. He focused on the button thingie.

“Turn that off, it will distract you while you make my cheesecake.”

Ginny smiled, “Of course. Your dessert will be ready in little over an hour,” and she turned around to continue what she was doing in between her singing and dancing. A slightly bewildered Draco left the kitchen feeling as if he had just been dismissed from a room in his own house. Walking down the hallway he paused mid-step as a sudden realization hit him. With a loud crack he was gone from his house one second and in the next standing in front of Blaise Zabini.

* * *

Blaise looked up from his desk to see his very irate cousin. He smiled a wide mischievous smile.

“I see you have discovered Ms. Weasley’s employment at your humble abode.”

Draco looked about ready to breathe fire.

“What were you thinking? Hiring a Weasley to work for me, to stay over long periods of time at my house, to prepare my food!”

“You did once say that she was ‘the only not completely hopeless spawn of the Weasley gene pool‘, if I remember correctly, in our seventh year no less. I didn’t think you’d completely find fault in my decision. Besides, the witch is a near goddess in the kitchen, or do you disagree?” Blaise raised one eyebrow questioningly as he tried desperately to keep the mirth from his face. His cousin right now was truly priceless.

“You did this on purpose, as a joke, to torment me? I wager you think you were so clever doing this. Has your little prank played out as well as you hoped?”

“Even better. Revenge, a dish best served cold. In your case you get mine with a side of asparagus topped with béarnaise sauce.”

For a moment Draco looked perplexed. Then realization hit him. “You cannot be serious, for that?”

Blaise smiled, triumph gleaming in his eyes.

“Yes, dear cousin, for that.”

* * *

Ginny cut the cake into eighths separating individual slices by a mere inch. In between each slice she placed one raspberry and filled in the remaining emptiness with chocolate shavings. She grinned mischievously at her work. From what she remembered of ferret boy from her Hogwarts days his sweet tooth was like an obsession to him. Her first few weeks she had been touch and go to her regarding her employment, but now she felt stable. She was sure Malfoy would justify employing her in his head as she was his inferior on the social ladder, but as long as her salary did not decrease she was not moving. Ginny loved her job.

The grandfather clock in the den could be heard in every room of the house. At the chime of seven thirty Ginny waved her wand over the cake and watched as it disappeared along with the milk and coffee, both cups magically charmed to refill the moment the glass became level.

Monday. A long week ahead of her where she would only be cooking for Malfoy according to Conner. Maybe longer if Narcissa saw fit to stay in France. Ginny caught the thoughts in her mind for a minute and wondered why she was so comfortable calling Narcissa by her first name and Malfoy by, well, Malfoy (or Ferret Boy). Her brief run in with the matriarch was rude and condescending in tone, her moment with Malfoy was him stammering in pure shock where Ginny knew she had the upper hand. She smiled to herself, her mind went to what she was doing at the time. It wasn’t the first time in the last hour she had wondered if it was her being a Weasley that had unsettled him, or the display he had walked in on. Just getting off the Floo network with Hermione about their night out Saturday she was in a dancing mood. Ginny had been told on more than forty occasions about her moves, a few times by non-partial (homosexual) witnesses and had every confidence that she was desirable.

Blaise had already told her Narcissa said she would ‘famish to nothing and a dull bronzed knut’ if she did not gain substance on from non other than the wunderkind girl cook. Ginny was curious. Was she able to push the limits of a Malfoy, one young male one unparticular?

* * *

Draco could not touch the cheese cake. He tried. His fork had grazed it’s edges, peeled away a small layer of warm creaminess. Her hands had made it. What bothered him was not the usual ‘Oh, Muggle loving Weasley hands’. He had gotten over that long ago when he was not constantly faced with the amazing trio every day. It was the same hands he had seen skim up her sides as she sang and slightly twitched her hips with the music. Not so much a twist, he mused, as a sway, her small waist rotating in unison with the outward curve her hips made with the dip of her legs. He then remembered Blaise’s parting advice to him:

“Get over yourself and get over what you expect her to be. You may be surprised. If you decide to keep your head firmly implanted up your arse, please refrain from making her life hell. She’s above you, and she’s certainly above the position she keeps in your house.”

Draco picked up the cake plate and walked to the kitchen. In the back corner of his mind he hoped to find her dancing, but then he’d have to berate her for disobeying him. What he found was her perched on the counter with her legs crossed at her knees, the damnable skirt bunched at the apex of her legs revealing more leg than was proper in his kitchen, or anywhere else in his house. Ginny looked to him and quirked a delicately arched cinnamon colored eyebrow.

“I tried to recall the plate but nothing happened. Was something remiss with your, um, ‘dinner’?”

“I’m not used to eating alone, at least not here. I’ll finish later when I find it convenient.”

Ginny nodded, a smirk on her lips. “When you have company? If you have a dinner guest at any time other than your mother let me know and I can whip up a ravishing meal. I do an excellent job with crème brulee. It would be advantageous to you to make a display of licking the spoon in such an event.”

She was flirting. He knew it.

Draco stepped up to her, his eyes locked into hers and without preamble let the plate fall to the counter. Neither flinched when the sharp sound of porcelain meeting marble rudely disturbed the silence of the room.

“That would be nice for tomorrow night, I will be having a guest. Please dress accordingly.”

Draco left the kitchen, a certain lazy grace accented his walk, the sway of his body and legs. Ginny wondered what he looked like when he danced, if he ever danced. Then it hit her…

Dress accordingly?

* * *

Seven thirty on the mark she sent the appetizer out, two small plates of shrimp almandine made with extra amaretto to appeal to Malfoy’s sweet palate. Ten minutes later when she recalled the plates they were both untouched. More than just a bit perplexed Ginny let out a frustrated growl. She knew the shrimp were perfect, she had tasted them herself to be sure. Taking both plates in hand she made a bee line for the dinning hall, her three inch heels making angry echoes sound through the hall. She could see a faint light flickering through the open door. Sealing herself against his sure insults (had he set this up to insult her in front of a guest?) she stepped through the door.

Draco was the lone occupant of the room. Reclining in his usual chair he had the airs of a king, or at least a brat prince. With an almost bored sigh Malfoy gestured to the chair across from him.

“I’ve been waiting. Sit.”

Ginny was confused.

Not knowing what else to do, Ginny sat in the suggested chair. Conner came from the shadows somewhere behind her and took the shrimp out of her hands and placed one plate in front of her and the other in front of his employer. Already poured in a crystal balloon glasses was a canary tinted white wine. Malfoy lifted his glass and took a sip.

“Fine choice, I assumed it’s one of yours, it’s not one that was kept in stock here previous to your employment. Use it to cook much?”

“Not really, more of a suggestion.” Oh Merlin, was Draco ‘Ferret Boy’ Malfoy really making small talk with her?

“Thank you for dressing appropriately for dinner. Do you always wear black?”

“Having red hair it’s difficult to find a color to suit me. White does well, but not in winter, I seem to get washed out with all the snow.”

Draco looked her over, from the crown of her head to her stomach, which was the last thing available to his perusal. She wore a flowing black dress that had a high neck and empire waist line. Classic, not dramatic, as his mother usually chose to dress for their dinners. Her hair was in a tight twist at the nape of her neck and she wore no makeup. Adult hood had done Ginny Weasley well, her high cheek bones held a healthy blush (probably from her earlier anger). In Hogwarts her face had always held that innocent child look with a cherub mouth and wide eyes those features had matured with the loss of baby fat to a woman’s face. How his mother could have ever mistaken her for a child was beyond him.

Ginny refused to shrink under his assessment of her. Instead she returned the favor. Draco’s pale looks were complimented by his white button dress shirt. His hair was cut short and fell in soft waves about his brow. Even relaxing he still managed to look aristocratic. The most unnerving thing about him was his eyes, a gray that bordered on silver. She could almost hear him snicker at her description ‘Platinum Weasley, silver is below a Malfoy.’

“How did you learn to cook?”

Small talk again.

“My mother mostly. Being the only girl we are really close. She would show me all kinds of tricks and her special cook books and recipes she only used on holidays. Eventually I started to experiment myself with different things. I also would sneak down to Hogwarts kitchens and have the house elves teach me their technique. When Fleur married Bill she suggested I apprentice at Le Martinque, her brother’s place, under him. That’s about it.”

“Your don’t cook like that place. I’ve eaten there a few times on business. Your style is a little more, what’s the word I’m searching for? Eclectic. The chef there tended to stay with one genre of food.”

“I like to experiment. Boredom does strange things to you when all you have at your disposal is a large kitchen and everything a chef could ever desire at her fingertips.”

Draco smiled, accepting her compliment. A warm sensation settled in Ginny’s stomach. Why was he being so accommodating, so bloody charming?

“Do you miss the energy of working there? You must have fits of lethargy here.”

“I prefer this. I don’t feel stifled. Are were going to eat? This warming charm won’t last forever.”

“By all means, I’ve been waiting for you to get started.”

* * *

They ate their meal with small topics of conversation keeping the mood pleasant. He asked of her opinion on new witch dress robe fashions (not risqué enough, she liked the Muggle trends as of late) and she inquired of his busy schedule and if he ever get any weekends off (he was away on weekends checking on businesses in lower Britain, and his ministry work kept him busy during the week). The main course was a pan fried redfish served with lump crab meat covered in white wine cream sauce and grilled asparagus. Ginny had asked Conner to fetch her wand from the kitchen and she conjured up the dishes for them when they were done with the shrimp. Draco was impressed. She clarified her proficiency with Apparation of food came from the Hogwarts house elves.

Dessert was crème brulee as promised. When the dessert appeared the top did a small sizzle as flame magically erupted.

“Once again, much impressed. I suppose you had it charmed to do that on appearance?”

She blushed, his compliments on her skills more than she was used to. “Of course, how else could it be as perfect as I claimed?”

After dinner Ginny rose from her seat and Draco rose with her. The gentlemanly manner was not lost on Ginny but she felt out of place with it. This behavior was not what she expected from him.

“Will you join me tomorrow? I don’t wish to eat alone when I don’t have to. I enjoyed your company.”

If anyone else had been making the request but him Ginny would have complied. She was about to tell him no when he said something that stopped her.

“Please.”

Not a question, a statement. Just a way of making his request more polite. Ginny nodded and left to clean the rest of the kitchen. It would be an interesting week.

* * *

As pleasant as the conversation was Ginny was feeling uncomfortable. She had gotten over her ‘Ferret Boy complex’ as Hermione called it, and now was taking in an assessment of him. Draco was attractive. When he smiled, which seemed to be often, Ginny blushed. When she went on a passionate tangent of her preference (usually cooking, music, or her discussions with Hermione on house elves) he listened. Not the polite nodding of his head and agreeing at the right spots, but he actually listened to her, making valid points and observations of her opinions when she was done. He was equally passionate about his businesses, feeling that they were the only way to save the Malfoy family name from the tarnish his father had placed on it. Ginny was enthralled. She learned that Narcissa didn’t know the extent of his father’s crimes and on the whole believed Lucius was framed.

Ginny was beginning to care. The Draco she was getting to know was different from the hateful child she had known at Hogwarts. Still arrogant and vain, but somehow his edges were softer. Ginny was seeing him as human.

It was on their forth dinner together that she told him she could not dine with him anymore. Her excuse was that the dinners were not ‘professional’.

A/N: Le Martinque is a restaurant here in New Orleans that specializes in Caribbean/French food. I have never gotten a chance to go there but am hoping to, if I ever get a night off of work.

The meal Draco and Ginny share is comprised of three of my favorite things that we used to serve in my restaurant. The menu was changed since I wrote this and those slimy gits took the best things off the menu.

*Chapter 3 *

“The One Where Draco likes Red Lace.”


The plate was full.

Was this a ploy to get her to join him for dinner? He knew she had pride in her work and would take it as a personal insult if he did not even try her food. Ginny stared at the plate, menacing thoughts sparking behind her eyes. She turned her wand on the entrée and sent it out. If he didn’t eat this, he could starve, and that was not her problem.

The plate was full.

Ginny grabbed the wineglass containing the key lime custard with floating meringue island and headed to the dining room with every intention of depositing the glass’ contents on Draco.

Imagine her surprise when she saw the room was empty.

Not one to let perplexity disrupt hostile intentions, Ginny began searching every room of Malfoy Manor. She found him in the third room she checked, which should have been the first. His room was only lit by one candle burning on the bedside table. Ginny noticed the elegant and starch cleanliness of his room before she noticed him. Draco was seated on the floor supported by the table and his bed. His legs were drawn to his chest with his head resting on his knees. Slack arms took their place on the floor, clutched in his right hand was a parchment. He had not moved or made any other indication that he knew of her presence in his room. All her riotous anger deflated in the face of his obvious distress.

Ginny came towards him, careful in her approach not to be too fast or make her steps too loud. She knew he was trying to find peace and she did not want to disrupt it if he had found it. Kneeling down beside him she put the glass on the table and reached for the parchment. The note was short, and to the point. Ginny leaned into Draco until her face was level with his. Gently she touched her hand to his chin, trying to make him look at her without being forceful. With little resistance he turned and let his gaze lock into hers. What she saw there made the bottom fall out of her stomach. A mixture of confusions, regret, and sadness was evident from the slight part in his red lower lip to the glassy look in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to tell her. How can I tell her? What do I tell her?” His voice was barely above a whisper. Ginny’s heart ached for him. Not for the man lost, if Lucius Malfoy felt it necessary to attempt escape from
Azkaban he deserved his fate, but she couldn’t imagine dying by a fifteen story drop to be anything less than painful. Her heart ached for the lost man sitting next to her who refused to shed his tears even in the face of a loss so great. Ginny couldn’t even begin to phantom life without one of her parents.

“You tell her nothing right now. She’s in France, she doesn’t need this right now and you are in no condition to tell her.”

Draco grunted. The sound seemed alien in his throat after the whispered comments in the room.

“Then tell me little one, what ‘condition’ am I in right now?”

Ginny tenderly brushed the strands of hair away from his eyes. She seemed to have a need to comfort him, to take the wall away from him and hold it hostage until he relented to his grief. She knew of only one way to remove walls, as well as any inhibitions.

“You’re in the condition to get smashed.”


* * *


After rummaging through Draco’s room to find him suitable club wear, she left him to dress while she changed. After waiting thirty minutes, she went upstairs to find him dressed in his black slacks and gray dress shirt (it was the closest Muggle outfit he had), but staring at the dessert on the nightstand. She smiled and flicked her wand towards the table and a spoon appeared next to the glass. Instead of eating like she thought he would, he focused his eyes on the floor and left the room, grabbing her hand as he left. Shocked by the gesture, Ginny figured it was the want of human closeness that drove him to touching her so she didn’t let go. He lead her to a spot in the garden and Apparated them to a room in the Leaky Cauldron that was designated for such drop-ins. When she noticed Draco had reached the end of his tether of initiative she led the way to the street below where she hailed a taxi.

“The Metropolitan please,” and the driver sped on to the club and all the drinks and glittering lights awaited them.

The club was packed. Hermione had only given Ginny a brief questioning look when she saw her hand holding Draco’s, but she quickly mouthed I’ll explain later and Hermione left it alone. Ginny made her way through the crowd with Draco in tow towards the bar.

“What’s your poison of choice?”

“Fire Whiskey, strait up.”

Ginny turned to the bartender, a cute short guy with dirty blond hair and a generous smile.

“What can I get you?”

“Two double Jack strait up and four cosmos.” The bartender nodded and set about his task. While they waited for the drinks, she studied Draco. His eyes were wide with fascination, mouth slightly ajar, body ramrod stiff. She had a sneaking suspicion that if he had not been in his state of shock over his father she never would have gotten him around anything Muggle, much less a Muggle dance club. She knew the want for non-existence, to disappear from your world while the mess settles. A night out of the Wizarding world would probably do him good.

“Ma’am?” The bartender caught Ginny’s attention away from her musings with the drinks. Hermione appeared besides her, a smile on her face.

“This was a great idea, just what I needed. I just did a shot with a few people at the upper bar I grew up with in my parent’s neighborhood. They seemed glad to hear I’d be back in the area for a while.”

Ginny handed her a cosmo and Draco his first drink. Taking hers in hand, she lifted her glass.

“I propose a toast. Not all who wander are lost…”

“And not all who are found want to be,” Hermione finished. They downed the drinks, Ginny’s gaze fixed on Draco’s reaction to the Jack Daniels. Not fazed by the taste he reached for the next glass and downed it too.

“Trying to get drunk?”

“Isn’t that the condition I’m currently best suited for?”

Hermione jumped at the start of a new tune and wrapped her arms around Ginny’s waist. “Oh, I love this song, dance with me. Lets give them all something to look at.”

Oh, yeah, Ginny thought, she’s on her way to smashed.

Hermione lead her to the floor, grin on her face, sway in her steps. Ginny looked back at Draco worried, but she shouldn’t have been. His awe of his surrounding keeping him implanted at the bar. A tall nearly black haired brunette stepped behind Hermione and grabbed her hips moving her body in turn with his to the beat. Hermione slid her hands down his arms and dipped down. Ginny took the reprieve from her to dash to the bar and grab Draco.

“Dance with me.”

He looked around uncertain. “Here? I don’t know the music or any of this. It all seems a debauchery of sorts.”

Ginny managed to get him on the dance floor. She pressed the front of her body close to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. Lifting herself to his ear she whispered, “But that’s the entertainment of the evening.
That’s the distraction.” Her mouth was a hair’s space from his skin.

Smiling and thinking she had unnerved him, Ginny withdrew to see the expression on his face. What struck her first were his eyes, they were nearly black.

Miscellaneous memories shifted through her head. One in particular stood out, reading one of Hermione’s Muggle romance novels and a phrase that was brought up in the text. Ginny felt her breath catch in the back of her throat and the atmosphere that surrounded her seemed to still. His hands were at her waist. Her arms were still at his neck. His fingers trailed up her spine.

“Are you going to show me how to dance to this or leave me standing here like an imbecile?”

Ginny took the challenge and she ground her hips into his. “Move with me,” and he did. Tentative at first, he grew more confident and his body slide into sink with hers. Ginny turned around so that her back was to his chest. Stooping a little, he let his hands caress her legs and then travel the path up her skirt.

“Isn’t it the style here to be as risqué as possible?” and his fingertips went to boundaries of her lace knickers. Ginny jerked away and looked at him.

“I think we need more drinks.” Just as Ginny was about to make her way to the bar, Hermione came up behind her with another round.

“Drink up, fuck three sheets to the wind I want to be about fifteen when I stumble out of here.” Ginny grimaced at her words. Hermione only swore when she was smashed and the girl’s giddy expression and laxness around
Draco made her situation evident. She handed Draco his drink and then Ginny hers, simultaneously grabbing her around the waist. “Dance with me, these blokes can’t seem to keep up.”

Giving Draco an apologetic look, she was dragged to the floor by her inebriated roomie. The beat picked up for the next song and Ginny was quick to see her spot replaced by some blond. The girl’s coloring matched Draco’s exactly and she felt a slight twinge of jealousy as she noticed how well they complimented each other. Then the girl placed her hands on his hips and began to move him. Ginny downed her drink and grabbed Hermione’s and finished it as well. Being jealous over Ferret Boy did not sit well with her.

While they were there Ginny lost track of how many drinks she had or how many men she had danced with. Draco passed in and out of her view, usually with a drink in his hand. Closer to three in the morning she noticed it was no longer Hermione she was dancing with and had no idea where the girl had gone. She had left Ginny before (in fact had several times after Ginny had yelled at her that she was a big girl and could take care of herself). Deciding she had enough of the evening’s festivities, she went in search of Draco.

The same pretty blond from earlier was talking him up in a dark corner of the club. His face held the expression of someone who was drunkenly bored. Sloshed as she was, Ginny wanted to make the blond feel a piece of what she had felt earlier when she had seen the two dancing. Adding extra sway to her hips, Ginny plastered the biggest smile on her face as she approached him.

“Draco, darling, where have you been? I’ve wanted to leave for forever but couldn’t seem to find you.” She turned to face the blond, fake pleasantness smeared like bad makeup on her face. “Thank you for keeping him safe for me sweetie but we really have to go now.” Linking her arm through Draco’s, she led him out of the club, not turning to see the dumfounded expression on her face.

“Where’s your friend, the elf liberator?”

“Elsewhere. Ready to go?”

Draco nodded, his eyelids dropping as of their own violation. He was at Hermione’s goal of fifteen sheets.

“We need to Floo; you’re in no condition to Apparate.”

“Have I met my desired condition?”

Ginny laughed, “To completion.”

The way out the club was hindered by the crowd of people. When they reached the outside, Ginny hailed a cab and gave the address to the Leaky Cauldron. Once there she asked the barkeep to use the Floo network in the rear room and he gave her a small bag of Floo powder.

“Malfoy Manor,“ Ginny said into the green flames. Draco grumbled something beside her that Ginny did not quite hear. When they stepped in the flames and appeared the next moment in his room, she was vaguely surprised.
Draco stumbled his way to his bed and began to remove his shoes.

“I asked for my room.”

Noticing the trouble he was having with his shoes, Ginny came to help him. No sooner did she step close to him than he took that opportunity to grab her wrist and pull her closer. Nuzzling his nose and lips to her neck, he breathed deeply.

“You smell good.”

He kissed her neck, his tongue darting out to lick the pulse point.

“You taste good too.”

Too stunned to move, Ginny was still for the first few seconds of his nipping and sucking at her neck. Then she realized what he was doing and she couldn’t stop the moan from leaving her throat. Ginny tilted her head back to give him better access and slid her hands up his arms to his scalp, slightly digging her fingertips into his skin.

“Very nice,” Draco whispered as he pulled the bottom of her ear into his mouth. “Now let’s see what else you can do.”

Turning her around and pushing her back on the bed, he lay on top of her and continued to kiss his way to her collarbones, gently biting the delicate skin. He used his hands to pin her hips down, feeling the sharp edges of her bones as he did so. Not wanting him to be the sole participant in this, Ginny wrapped her right leg around his waist and pulled his body closer into hers. She punctuated her actions with words.

“Your clothes are in the way. So are mine. Take care of it.”

Draco let his hands slide down to her thighs until they were under her dress. Lifting himself slightly he began to move the dress upward and off of her body. He felt again the lace knickers that had caught his attention earlier and grew noticeably hard against her thigh. Ginny moaned and rotated her hips to brush against him. Forgetting the slow tease of removing her dress as he had intended, Draco roughly pulled the dress off of her, small tearing sounds coinciding with this.

Since her dress had been backless, Ginny had gone without a bra. The feeling of his starched shirt against her bare breast and nipples was torture. Reaching between them, Ginny began to unbutton his shirt, her hands shaking with drunken nervousness and lust. Draco pulled his shirt over his head and it joined her dress on the floor. She bent her head to capture one of his nipples in her mouth, biting it slightly.

“You’re still overdressed.”

Standing, Draco kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his slacks.

“Everything. I want to see you.”

He looked to Ginny to see her sitting up on the bed, her weight supported by her arms behind her. Her lithe body was only accented by the faintest amount of honey colored freckles, none evident on her taunt stomach. Her small round breasts were adorned with cotton candy pink nipples. Her skin seemed luminescent in the moonlight. Draco finally got to see the color of her knickers. They were red to match her hair. Her legs had been on display earlier with the short length of her outfit, but they seemed to be even longer now in the high cut lace. She still wore her black heels. He immediately removed all his clothing (more for the necessity of comfort than her request).

Draco watched Ginny’s perusal of his body. He had stood before many women nude and was accustomed to their admiring gaze. His body was muscular and cut, but not to the point it was intimidating. His legs were tightly muscled from years of playing Quidditch. While her study of him did not unnerve him, what struck him as out of place was that it was just that, a study.

“Better?”

Unconsciously, Ginny licked her lips. Seeing her pink tongue dart out her mouth made his body respond in a way that made her smile.

“Much, now come join me.” Ginny shifted on the bed until she was lying down with her head on the pillows. Thinking better of her poise, she turned on her side facing him and lifted her knees to her chest so that she could remove her shoes. Draco lay on the bed next to her. Looking into her eyes he moved his hand to join hers at her ankle.

“Leave them on. I like them.”

Ginny smiled in acquiescence and moved her hand. Draco began to move his hand up the back her calf towards her thigh. Reaching her hip, he pushed her on her back and covered her in one fluid movement. With her legs at his trim waist, Ginny could feel his erection pressed against her knickers, lost her breath briefly, and her body tingled, particularly in one area that left the said red lace wet. Draco noticed her reaction to him immediately and it turned him on more.

Bringing his hands to hers, he pinned Ginny’s arms at her sides.

“Lets see what else gets that reaction out of you Ginevra.”

Ginny felt the heat of his mouth on her neck first, his tongue twisting circles on her skin. Draco left wet kisses on her skin leading to her breast. When his mouth closed on her nipple, she arched her back in pleasure and dug her heels into his back. In return Draco nipped at the hardened peak of her nipple.

“Anytime I do something you like feel free be rough with me; I like it. I like the feeling I just got when you pressed your heels into me and the way the lace of your knickers felt when you pressed your hips to my stomach. I’m about to do a lot more to you that you’re going to enjoy even more than this. I want that reaction out of you every time.”

The last part of Ginny’s mind that was capable of coherent thought mussed that it was just like Draco to keep with the Malfoy smugness and dominance in bed. All thought left her when his mouth continued his attention to one breast, as his hand came to fondle the other. Ginny gasped and ground her hips into his stomach, small begging noises leaving her throat unbeknownst to her. With her free hand she pressed his head harder to her body, the sensation of his mouth too glorious to comprehend.

Draco let his other hand run up her body from her hip to her throat, tilting her head back with force, and back down again. Now both her hands were tangled in his hair and she was squirming underneath him. Leaving her breast, he made his way to her stomach biting the bottom ridges of her ribcage with care. He used his teeth and nimble tongue on her stomach and was rewarded with goose bumps across her flesh.

“Now let’s see how much you want me, how ready you are to feel me inside you.”

His words were impossibly erotic and obscene to Ginny. Then his hand went to her knickers and under them. Ginny pressed herself against him, the want of his touch something she hadn’t even thought about, but just reacted to. He inserted two fingers into her, his thumb playing with her clit.

“Very good.”

Nearly mindless by how wet and hot she was on his hand, Draco pushed his fingers in further and stopped. Withdrawing, he pulled himself away and tried to regain his composure.

“Get your clothes and leave Ginny. This is not a place you belong.”

Confused, Ginny tried to think through the haze of desire and understand what he was saying. “Draco, wha… Why?”

“Did you not hear me? Get your clothes and leave. You do not belong here.”

Ginny scrambled off the bed, gracelessly pawing for her dress on the floor. When she found it she pulled it over her head, wiping some of her tears away with the fabric as she did so. Straightening herself she tossed some Floo powder from the suspended bowl and said with as much confidence as she could muster in her voice, “Twenty two twenty one Fascination Street.”

Luckily she was home and the green flames gone before the first real sob made its appearance. After the first sob they just didn’t seem to stop, and neither did the tears. On the way to her bedroom she noticed that Hermione’s door had a red X across the bottom. Apparently she had made her way home safe and not alone. Ginny closed her door gently incase Hermione had forgotten a silencing charm. She then cast one of her own and cried her heart out in earnest.

* * *


An hour later, Ginny was washing her face in her adjourning loo. Still embarrassed and confused she had begun to take refuge in the other emotion that had started to make it’s appearance about thirty minutes before – Anger.

How dare that smug bastard shun me like that? How fucking dare he presume he could just push me away because of his mental bloody caste social system he lives by? Did he just want to show me he was above me by making me want him and showing me how much he could never want someone lower than him? No Weasley takes treatment like that, especially this one!

Her decision made, Ginny said a quick spell and flicked her wand to remove the puffiness and redness from her eyes that her mum had taught her years ago when Fred and George’s teasing would sometimes get the better of her.

She put her heels back on and Apparated to the garden of Malfoy Manor. Using the unlocking spell she had been given Ginny entered the mansion and went to Draco’s room, determined to prove her point. She might have been inexperienced in the actual intercourse part of sex, but she was knowledgeable in every other. For some reason that she couldn’t phantom (most likely all the liquor) Ginny had wanted to fill in the holes of her knowledge with Draco earlier. High blood alcohol content levels had lowered her inhibitions, but it was anger that fueled her to brazenly pull the dress from her body the moment she entered his room.

Draco was asleep. Silently she approached and climbed on the bed, very much like a lioness stalking its prey. She didn’t want him to know she was here until she was ready. He was sleeping on his back with his arms tucked under his pillow, which aided her plan. Slowly she pulled the thick down comforter off him until he was fully exposed. Ginny smiled mischievously. He either slept naked or hadn’t put any clothes on after she left. Straddling his hips with her knees, she leaned down and put both her hands on the sides of his face to support her. Careful to not touch him with any other part of her body, Ginny leaned down and traced her tongue along the curve of his ear. Draco’s breath quickened in his sleep.

Continuing her attention to his ear brought the desired response below her. Ginny smirked. This would be over quicker than she thought if he was easily aroused in his sleep.

Moving to his neck, Ginny used her teeth sparingly and gently enough to not wake him. Small involuntary moans passed through his parted lips; his heart beat so quickly that Ginny was sure she couldn’t keep up with the pulse movement in his throat. Moving herself so that she was more in position with his chest, Ginny lowered her mouth to his nipple. At first she made her circular movements light and feathery, every now and again flicking the peak. As his hips began to move involuntarily beneath her, she applied more pressure and finally bit down, not hard, but enough to wake him.

Draco’s eyes snapped open at the same time Ginny let the weight of her body lower onto his. With her knees still propping her rear up to avoid his erection, her arms crossed over his chest and an innocent expression
on her face, she made quite the erotic sight and she knew it.

“What are you doing here?”

Lust and grogginess made his voice crack. In place of words Ginny put her mouth to his nipple again and continued to do what woke him.

Draco pressed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes. He was awakened by a very sexual dream involving the same witch that now was poised over him. Her hands softly went to his sides, under his arms. After another moment of nipping and licking at his chest, she dug her fingers in and scratched him slowly down him, his body rose to meet up with her nails. When she reached his hips he arched his body so that the tip of his erection touched her knickers, the contrast of the lace and his overly sensitive skin caused a hiss to leave him.

Ginny moved herself to his side so that she could move her bites to his stomach. Digging her thumbs into the hard muscle of his hips she punctuated her bite to the area right below his belly button.

“Merlin, woman, I thought I told you to leave,” he rasped out.

“Do you really want me to?”

“Ye…” His answer was cut off when she took him into her mouth.

Draco heard the blood pounding in his ears as he looked toward her. Her head slowly bobbed up and down in his lap, but she only teased the tip. Her glorious red hair was laid out across various parts of his stomach and some on the bed. The color contrast on his pale skin was intensely carnal.

Ginny picked that exact moment to look up at him. Making sure he watched her, Ginny licked his cock from the base to the tip and took him in her mouth again, going as far down as she could, which turned out not to be very far to her satisfaction. Improvising, Ginny used her hands to move in motion with her mouth over the area she couldn’t take in.

Draco gripped the sheets behind his head to stop himself from grabbing her head and moving her. She went so bloody slow that Draco was sure she came to torture him. And then she decided to make it worse by forming a tight ‘o’ with her thumb and index finger and moved all the way up; her fingers squeezed the ridge of his head as she left him completely and then went back down again, swirling her tongue as she went. Draco’s hips jerked at the sensation.

Raising herself, Ginny crawled back up to his face where she had started.

“I see that you want me, how ready you are to be inside me.”

Draco barely registered that she was giving him a twisted form of his earlier words.

“Now I want you to say it to me. I want you to tell me you want me, and I want you to tell me how badly you want to be inside me.”

“Why?”

Ginny leaned down to kiss him. In all their actions over the night this was the first kiss, and it was shattering. With all the passion she could put into a kiss, Ginny took possession of his mouth. Draco was so shocked by the power that he was slow in getting his tongue to meet hers. Pulling her body as close to his as was allowed, he rolled them over until he was on top of her.

“I want you. I want to be inside of you,” Draco groaned against her mouth.

“How much?”

Draco’s mind skimmed the list of phrases he had used on other women before, statements that just didn’t seem to fit this situation. “I changed my sheets after you left because the short time you were in my bed earlier had them smelling of your perfume and I couldn’t sleep. Does that tell you anything?”

Ginny seemed to be in deep thought, “Only that poor, tired Draco Malfoy couldn’t close his eyes because of the cheap scent of a Weasley? Am I right?” she batted her eyes innocently.

Grabbing her face with his hands, Draco kissed her. For a while Ginny forgot why she was doing this, and why it was so important she made him beg, or at least admit that he was wrong. His lips were so soft and his mouth tasted like bourbon and chocolate. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered a little, the small sound giving Draco permission to let his hands slide to her hips and his fingers slip under her knickers. He tried to pull them off and jarred her from the distraction of his mouth.

“It reminded me of how stupid I had been earlier when I made you leave. Instead I could have had you under me making sound like that one, only louder.”

Ginny pushed him off of her and left the bed. Smiling prettily, she found her dress and put it on, this time taking care to do it slowly and let the dress fall the way it should.

“What are you doing?”

Ginny considered leaving Draco in his confusion, but then what good was everything she had done if he didn’t know why?

“That’s all I came here for, to hear you say that you were wrong. That I was worth wanting.”

Draco took a minute to digest the information that he had been purposely thoroughly turned on and was now being left. Was that what she had came for? Was she that daft that she had to prove that she was desirable? He thought his earlier actions proved that.

Ginny was at the fireplace, Floo powder in hand.

“Where are you going?”

“Home, I’m done here. While I’m still listening to whatever you have to say, any preferences for dinner and your dessert tomorrow?”

Moving so fast Ginny could have sworn he Apparated, Draco came between her and the fireplace, and blocked her way.

“You propped up on my kitchen counter with me between your legs. You’re not leaving. Why the bloody hell do you want to? Why did you come back here and do this if all you were going to do was leave?”

“Why did you make me leave before?”

Ginny took notice of her state of dress and his state of, well, undress. A naked, agitated and fully erect Draco Malfoy was a beautiful sight to behold. Ginny reached out and traced her finger around his hip-bone and then down his thigh and back up again.

“Virgins don’t belong in my bed.”

It had nothing to do with her, or more specifically, her background, the way she had thought. She immediately felt embarrassed.

“Oh, um, I’ll go now.”

Draco held his place blocking her way. “No, you’re not. You’re going to kiss me again, and then I’m going to rip that dress of you so that you can’t put it back on or even use Reparo to fix it. Then we’re going to finish what you came here and started. I may only have a few morals, but even those only stretch so far before they break.”

He kissed her. Ginny barely registered his hands coming to her back and ripping the dress from the seam at her waist, to the flimsy shear fabric at the bottom. Her arms at her sides made it easy for him to remove her ruined clothes. Picking her up by her waist, Draco lifted her to the bed, never once breaking the kiss. When he stopped kissing her lips, it was to move his mouth elsewhere. Her neck, her collarbones, her breasts and then stomach, forcing her down with each press of his body to hers until she lay down. Approaching her knickers, he used the pressure of his fingers on her arse to tell her to lift her hips and she did. Sliding them over her legs and then shoes (Merlin, he was happy to see those still on), Draco kissed her legs from ankles to knees. Reaching her thighs, he spread her legs to give him better access.

Ginny bit her lip to stop the making wanton sounds as Draco devoured her with his mouth and tongue. This was not how she intended this to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice any complaints. One of his hands found its way to her stomach and began to tickle her ribcage. Ginny smiled and gasped. Draco used one finger to enter her as he continued to work her with his mouth.

Wanting to fill her completely, Draco tickled her again to distract her as her slid another finger into her. She was tight, wet, and gyrated her hips under his mouth. Any woman who would enter his bedroom the way she did, arouse him the way she did, and expect it to stop there was beyond mental. Draco let his thumb brush over her clit in between strokes of his tongue, the new sensation causing Ginny to grab his hair and push him harder against her. As far as Draco was concerned, virgin or not, Ginny Weasley had crossed the point of no return long ago.

His hair was soft between her fingers. Nights studying him and wanting to touch him had caused her to make many speculations about certain aspects of Draco Malfoy. She had never wondered what his hair felt like, always assuming that it was coarse and brittle due to all the gel he must put in it. It felt so nice between her fingers and he was…

Ginny arched her back off the bed, her hands leaving Draco’s hair to explore the fabric of the sheets above her head as she came. Draco kissed his way up to her mouth as he positioned himself at her entrance. Kissing her hard enough to bruise, Draco tried to calm her erratic breathing with words. Unfortunately the words that left his mouth were not the intended words.

“You are so bloody fucking sexy. Next time I’m going to devour every piece of you until there is nothing left.”

Incoherent from her mind-obliterating orgasm and his words Ginny kissed Draco with all the possessiveness for him that she felt at that moment. Just at that moment he was hers.

As if reading her mind, Draco whispered the same words against her lips as he entered her.

If it hadn’t had been for the already relaxed and languid stated her body was in Ginny would have minded the intrusion more. Already buried to the hilt inside her, Draco steadied himself, careful not to move until she was ready. After the sharp pain that had brought her to more alertness dulled, Ginny noticed a more pleasant sensation. She felt complete. Draco moved to her neck and gave her soft, comforting kisses.

“Just tell me when and what you want me to do.”

Ginny waited a few moments to enjoy the new feeling of him inside her. For Merlin’s sake, Draco Malfoy was inside her! His chest was pressed into hers and she could feel the slight hair of his legs against her thighs.
Wrapping her legs around him Ginny pulled him in deeper causing a moan of pleasure from him and a soft sigh from her.

“Move, slow at first, and keep kissing me.”

Complying with her order, Draco began to slowly pull himself out of her. She was about to beg him to come back when he slid just as slowly back in. Moving his mouth to hers, Draco kept up his rhythm in turn with the thrusting of his tongue. Ginny began to anticipate each inward thrust when she learned the style of his kiss. Eventually the pace became torture, and her body wanted more of him in quicker intervals.

“Faster, I need more of you.”

Draco nearly cursed. It was killing him to go as slow as she wanted; yet if he went faster, he knew it would be over in no time. Her body clung to him so tightly with every thrust that he didn’t want to leave; he wanted to be buried inside her for as long as she would allow. Refusing to finish without her, Draco put his hand between their bodies and touched her clit, rubbing it slowly and every now and then brushing her where he joined her. Satisfied to hear her quickening breath and satisfied to know that she wasn’t far behind him, Draco sped up his pumping, her gasps and moans spurring him on more than any woman’s ever had before. She was different; he knew this was unpracticed and unrehearsed. Her nails dug into the small of his back and scratched him upwards, burying themselves in his hair and forcing his mouth harder on hers. Ginny was now lifting her hips to meet him with every thrust, her legs clinched so tight around him he could barely move. He continued his rhythm until she threw her head back from his mouth and made a small sound that he was sure must have been his name in some foreign tongue. Only when he knew she had came did he let himself go, thrusting so hard into her that bruises would be visible the next morning.

Draco collapsed on top of her, and his weight was somehow delicious. Neither of them wanted to speak, afraid to break whatever enchantment had briefly passed over them. Kisses over various parts of each other’s faces were shared, but not whispered endearments of love. Hands began to wander again and Ginny wondered how many times in one night could one do this without dying (like she felt she had just did). More kissing and more hands everywhere and she began to feel him grow hard inside her again. Figuring she wasn’t quite ready for another round, Draco began to pull out of her. Ginny realized his intent and tightened her legs around him, pulling him back in.

“No, again.”

And they did, several more times before morning.

A/N: There are two obscure references are in this. One that is easy to guess is The Cure’s Fascination Street, the other was me messing with a J. R. R. Tolkien quote. Also, sorry to say, but I’m taking time off of this fic to start posting my H/Hr companion piece. It starts at least a few months before The Way to a Man’s Heart and then finishes shortly after this chapter. I don’t want to give away the ending of that story by going further with this one. When I have the next chapter finished I will be posting it on my Yahoo group that can be found here for those of you who either don’t like to read H/Hr and want to finish this, or just don’t care about ruined endings and just want a story. I’ve got some other stuff there, too, but I just started it so don’t expect too much…. Yet :P

Special thanks to my wonderful new beta (yea! I finally got one!) Lady Endymion.