CHAPTER 1 Sneaking Out
It didn't take long for Ginny Weasley to grow tired of the seemingly endless receiving line at Harry's graduation. The muscles in her cheeks ached from smiling, and she felt a bit ridiculous standing between Harry and Ron, with Hermione just on the other side, acting like she too had graduated. True, other 7th year students had their girlfriends or boyfriends next to them, but no one was getting as much attention as Harry. Of course, just three weeks ago, he had defeated the Dark Lord - for good - and had already been offered a spot in the Auror training school's fall session.
Harry squeezed her hand enthusiastically as the tail end of her family moved on to congratulate Hermione. "I never thought I'd make it this far."
Ginny nodded in agreement, and as her eyes scanned the room, she noticed Draco Malfoy, edging quietly out of the Great Hall. Ever since his father had died earlier in the year, he had been a different person. No longer did he sulk around with his two bodyguards at his side, but he spent much of his time alone. Ginny hadn't seen him sneer in ages; instead his face was always a hard mask, blank and unreadable. She had heard rumors that he was there, helping the Order in the very end, but she didn't know all the details, as she wasn't there when Harry took down the Dark Lord, and he wasn't too keen to talk about it either.
As more people shuffled forward, she made sure her best smile was plastered in place and began hugging people again, the teachers, the students, the families. Finally, after what felt like hours, she slipped out of Harry's grip. "I'm gonna run to the loo."
"Okay," he nodded, kissing her cheek. "Hurry back."
The truth was, she had absolutely no intentions of coming back at all. She knew exactly what Harry wanted that night, and she wasn't quite sure she was ready to give it up. Harry was tempting, but being tempted to do something and actually doing it were two very different stories, at least in her book. Besides, she didn't know if she even wanted to lose her virginity to The Boy Who Lived. Twice.
She drew in a breath of cool air as she stepped into the empty entrance hall. She moved forward and pressed her nose against the window and glanced out, surveying the dark grounds and then pulled back to see the smudge her nose had left. The darkness had settled quickly over the grounds, even though it was technically summer, and Ginny could see the spotted lights from the stars above them, twinkling and watching her as if they knew her secrets and couldn't wait to see them unfold.
"Tired of being overshadowed?" a voice asked in the darkness.
Ginny's head swiveled towards the sound, and in the shadows, she could make out Draco Malfoy, sitting under a window.
"Something like that," she replied easily, and without thinking, moved towards him, sitting at his side.
He looked at her with surprise, but said nothing.
"So why aren't you in there? That's your celebration."
"Mother already left," he shrugged, "but it feels too early for bed."
Several moments of silence passed before she spoke again. "So what will you do when you leave here?" The silence between them was a comfortable one, the way she felt with her brothers, but never with Harry. If they were silent, something had to fill the void, especially when they were alone, so there was homework and Quidditch and a million other subjects to keep them from becoming uncomfortable. Truth be told, sometimes she appreciated silence. Silence was nice, sometimes, to just sit and be peaceful and calm, especially with all that had gone on this year.
"Not sure yet. I'll think about it for the summer and then decided." There was another pause, and Ginny found herself fascinated by the way the moonlight reflected off his hair, giving him a halo. "And why aren't you in there?" he asked finally. "It's your boy's big day."
"Oh." She tried to keep her expression from dropping.
"You know . . . it's just . . ."
"Just what?"
"He's with his friends," she finished lamely, not wanting to reveal the real reason.
"Why do I get the feeling there's more to it than that?"
"Well, there is."
"You didn't look like you were having a row," he commented dryly.
"We're not," she answered, smoothing the front of her robes. "But I don't really want to talk about it."
Draco eyed her and the corners of his lips began to twitch upward. "Potter trying to get you in bed?"
Ginny looked at him with her mouth gaping. "How-" then she stopped. "I said I don't want to talk about it!"
"So what do you want to talk about?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't want to go back in there."
A laugh escaped his lips. "Well, come on then, Weasley."
Ginny glanced towards the still shut oak doors of the Great Hall. She could hear the happy voices filtering into the entrance hall, and she wanted no part of it. Without another though, she stood to her feet. "Right then."
She followed him down to the dungeons, where he forced her into the shadows and muttered something to the wall. The wall slid open and Draco stuck his head in. "All clear." He grabbed Ginny's wrist and led her into the Slytherin common room.
"What are we doing here?" she hissed. "I don't fancy getting caught!"
"Come on!" Draco rolled his eyes. "You're the one sneaking out of the Great Hall."
They headed up a winding stair case and Draco stopped again to mutter another password to a large portrait, and when it swung open, she saw the Head Boy's private quarters. They were exactly like Hermione's, with the large bed, the desk, the two comfortable chairs, and a fireplace, except his room was done in the green and silver colors of Slytherin instead of red and gold.
"You know," she said, glancing around and cracking a smile, "just because I didn't want to shag Potter doesn't mean I want to shag you."
Draco smirked and opened his bureau. "That's not why I brought you up here." He pulled out a tall bottle filled with a bright red liquid and two small silver goblets.
"Is that-"
"Firewhiskey?" he finished. "Yeah. Let's celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" she glanced at him suspiciously. Was he doing this to get back at Harry? Or was he as bored as she was, and she was simply worrying too much? Draco had never been exactly straight out mean to her, but he had never been her friend, or even acquaintance, either.
"Would you calm down, Weasley?" Draco snorted as he filled the two glasses. "You're the one who left your boyfriend! Besides, don't you think if I wanted you, I'd just ask?"
Ginny gaped at him. "I, I, I'm sorry." She accepted the small goblet now steaming with Firewhiskey, sniffed it and tossed it back. An immediate burn filled Ginny's throat and spread to her stomach and then through her veins. She nearly fell off her chair choking.
When she caught her breath, she saw Draco shaking with silent laughter. "I'm so glad you find my near death experience amusing," she grumbled.
"Come on Weasley!" he gasped with laughter. "You've never had Firewhiskey before?"
"Obviously not, Malfoy," she retorted, pouring another shot into her cup. She watched with narrowed eyes as he emptied his goblet in one smooth gulp and refilled it. She realized with some strange sense of satisfaction that it was the first time she'd seen him smile all year.
"You can call me Draco," he told her.
"Then you can call me Ginny."
"Right, Ginny." He held up his goblet. "Here's to . . . you and Potter and lots of children . . . once you decide to shag him!"
"I am not drinking to that!"
Draco snorted. "Then what?"
"How about to . . . Harry not trying to shag me?" Her face turned crimson the moment she spoke, but Draco smiled.
"I can drink to that."
By the time Ginny had downed her fourth shot of the night and was staring over the top of the fifth, she had confessed to Draco more than she had ever told one single person.
"So, why exactly are you dating Potter?" he asked after listening to Ginny's progressively drunker monologue.
"I don't know," she answered, giggling at her slurred words. "Because everyone expects me to. Because mum approves and I would expect she's already got my bloody wedding dress picked out."
"So?" he demanded.
"So, I don't know." She sighed and stood to her feet. "Merlin! It's hot in here!" She unbuttoned her purple blouse and tossed it to the floor, kicking off her shoes and then her socks.
"Weasley, what in the bloody hell are you doing?" he demanded, shooting to his feet and shoving the shirt back at her.
"Calm down," she told him flippantly. "I've got other clothes on! And you're supposed to be calling me Ginny."
"Right," he nodded, sitting back down and tipping back the contents of his goblet, watching as she adjusted the straps of her gray tank top.
"Sorry if I told you too much," she groaned, downing another drink. "This makes my tongue loose."
"I don't mind. It's been a while since I've really talked to anyone."
"But I did all the talking."
Draco shrugged. "So what do you want me to talk about?"
"Anything," she waved, listening to the faint footsteps and voices go by this room. "Like how I'm gonna get out of here without getting caught!"
Another wicked smile lit his face. "Guess you'll have to wait until they go to bed."
She let out a laugh that turned into a hiccup. "Harry'll be thrilled!"
"Now you don't have to worry about him trying to shag you."
"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes and fastened her hair into a messy bun. "That's so funny."
"So what have you got against Potter anyways?"
"Nothing obviously. I'm dating him, aren't I?"
"Is he bad in bed?"
"I dunno," she slurred, amused that she was talking to Draco Malfoy about her non existent sex life. "I guess I'm just not ready."
"Not ready?" His eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared underneath his hair. "Don't tell me you're a virgin. Let me guess. You're saving yourself for marriage."
"Yes, yes," she retorted dismissively, finishing her fifth shot, pouring a sixth and downing that one also.
"Slow down!" he demanded, snatching the bottle. "I don't want to have to explain how Potter's girlfriend got sick in my room!"
"Merlin! It's hot in here!" she gasped. "Do you have shorts or something I could borrow?"
Draco watched with unashamed interest as she began to undo her trousers.
"Come on, Draco! Please?"
"Fine." He opened his trunk and tossed her a pair of dark green boxers.
She caught them with one hand and held them up for inspection. "Are these . . . silk?"
"So?" he demanded, his defenses high.
"So I've never met anyone who actually wears silk knickers! At least, no one that I know of."
"They're boxer shorts, not knickers! Besides, do you go around asking blokes what kind they wear?"
"Well no." She shrugged. "Turn around. I can't change with you watching."
Draco raised an eyebrow, but complied and when he turned back around, Ginny was laying on the edge of his bed.
"Tell me about yourself Draco," she requested sleepily. "I practically told you my life story."
Draco eyed the girl stretched across his bed, dressed in his underwear, with her eyes half closed, and her slurred words. "What do you want to know?"
"Tell me why you were so mean to us for such a long time and now you're not."
Draco stared at her for several minutes, trying to come up with an answer, but before he spoke, he realized her breathing was even and steady. He took one more shot of Firewhiskey and then put up the glasses, the bottle, piled her clothes on an empty chair and reached across her for the spare pillow.
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