CHAPTER 6
Draco went back to work at Malfoy Holdings, and Ginny found herself plunging back into boredom. She curled up on the Mahogany empire bed that was the centerpiece of the library, with its sleighed edges and plush sage green covering, and read every book the library held in just a few weeks.
After that, she re-explored the Manor, searching out the details she hadn't noticed. She found a room across the hall from Draco's suite that held the most magnificent bed she had ever laid eyes on. The bed itself was larger than her room at the Burrow and was made of a dark, carved wood, inlaid with gold Oriental accents. The bed was almost like a room, in that it had four walls, an opening for a doorway and three other openings for windows, a roof and a floor. The bed was at the very back of the structure, the front half almost like an entry way. The bed itself was covered in thick red linens, and the windows had matching curtains.
She couldn't imagine the work it had taken to get the bed inside the room.
Ginny stretched out on the bed, and for a brief moment, imagined Draco next to her. She felt her hand sliding down her stomach when she realized what she was doing. Even though she was alone, a blush crept over her cheeks.
"Draco?" she asked at dinner.
"Mm?" he glanced up from his stack of papers.
"I saw a room today . . . it was the one across from your room?"
He paused in his eating.
"Who does," she fumbled her words nervously, unsure of what to say. He was looking at her oddly. "Whose bed is it?"
"Just a family bed," he answered finally.
"Do you think I could move in that room?"
Draco took a large swallow of his wine before answering. "That's a Chinese Wedding bed."
Ginny nodded.
"Have you ever heard of one?"
"No."
He smirked slightly. "I suppose if you had, you wouldn't be asking me."
"What do you mean?"
"Real Chinese Wedding beds were quite popular with witches and wizards around the 19th century, particularly in the Ch'ing Dynasty. Permanent spells were cast on them."
"What kind of spells?"
"What happened when you touched the bed?"
Ginny bit her lower lip uncertainly. She wasn't about to tell him what she had thought of - that she had nearly touched herself, and walked out of that room with her panties wet. "Nothing really."
He smirked again, and she knew that he could see through her lie. "That bed was made so that the person who slept in it would find more passion than they had ever known with their lover."
"So," she began apprehensively, "what happens if just one person sleeps in it?"
"Doesn't matter. It causes the same dreams."
"What if the person doesn't have a lover?"
Draco shrugged. "It reveals desires."
Ginny stared at her fork and felt the flames of mortification licking her cheeks.
"It reveals other things too."
She couldn't bring herself to respond.
"If someone willingly sleeps with you in that bed, they will be yours forever."
"What do you mean?"
"That's part of the spells. If I was in that bed and you came in there and we slept together, you would belong to me forever."
Don't I already? her mind wanted to ask. "Oh."
She could feel his eyes burning into her. "I said willing, Ginny."
"I know."
"So you still want to move in there?"
"No."
Draco went back to his papers.
Ginny couldn't stop thinking about the bed, but she refused to let herself go in that room again. Draco Malfoy was not her lover. Draco Malfoy had kidnapped her and she was supposed to hate him.
Supposed to, but she didn't. She should, but she couldn't. She swore to herself she didn't think of him as her lover, but she didn't hate him. She tried to convince herself that it was simply because he was the only person she had seen in almost a year, but she rather enjoyed his company.
When exploring the house became tedious, Ginny attempted cooking, but the kitchen elves chased her out and reminded her that they were there to cook everything her heart desired and clean up afterwards. She settled on the gardens, and spent fruitless hours looking for weeds that weren't there and trying to remove invisible dust from leaves and petals.
Finally, Sully came to her. "Missus, I is not trying to offend, but we is feeling that we is not good enough for you."
Ginny sighed and flopped guiltily into the lounge chair. "I'm sorry. I'm just bored."
Sully handed her a tall glass of watermelon lime juice, and with her first swallow, Ginny could taste the heavy, sweet liquor.
"What's in this?"
"Just a drink, Missus."
"Can I have another one?" She licked at the rim, tasting the freshly cracked pepper and sea salt.
Sully nodded and was gone with a pop.
Ginny downed her glass and slumped lower in her chair. May had come on hot and sticky. She wondered what her family was doing. Her dad would be at work. And the twins, they would be at their shop. Percy would be strutting importantly around the Ministry, and Bill would probably be making plans to leave Gringotts early to see Fleur. Charlie, he'd be taming a dragon, and Ron would be . . . She didn't know what Ron would be doing now that school was over. Maybe he'd gone with Harry to be an Auror. Or maybe he was the vice president of S.P.E.W. School. She should be taking her N.E.W.T.s right now, or giggling with her friends over what to wear and who was cute. And her mum, her mum should be bustling around the Burrow. But she wasn't.
Ginny fiercely wiped her tears with the back of her hand and eyed the moat and pond that ran along side the Manor. Maybe the sticky heat of May wasn't so bad after all. She stripped her clothes as she ran, leaving a trail of garments as she reached the edge of the moat.
She threw herself into the water, only to find it was less than 4 feet deep. Nevertheless, she submerged her head, and when she reappeared, Sully was there.
"Here you is, Missus." Sully placed a silver tray with a pitcher and two glasses on the grass.
"Is Draco coming?" Ginny asked, instantly alarmed when she spotted the two crystal goblets.
"Tonight he is."
"Oh. What time is it?"
"It is nearly four, Missus."
"Oh. Okay. Thank you."
Ginny poured another glass and went back to her floating. I've been here a year, her mind kept whispering. A year.
It doesn't matter, she argued with herself. This is my new life. I've accepted it. Aren't you supposed to accept the things you cannot change?
Fine, fine, take the easy way out. Your mum is dead and you're thinking about snogging the Death Eater who probably killed her. But you're right. Just accept it.
Go away.
"I'm going nutters. I'm really going mad," she muttered aloud.
"I hope not."
Ginny's eyes shot open to see Draco, sitting on the bank, a glass in hand.
"Having fun?"
She quickly tried to lower herself beneath the water, even though she was positive he'd had an eyeful already. "Um, yes."
"Then I'll join you."
Ginny couldn't help but blush and turn her head as he set his glass back down and began to undo his shirt. She could feel his eyes on her, and the quiet rustle of clothing as he stripped. She saw the water ripple as he stepped in, but couldn't bring herself to turn around.
"You can look now," he said after a moment, a laugh in his voice.
Slowly Ginny turned around, relieved to see that the water came well above his waist, but mortified at the sight of his smooth chest and the knowledge that they were less than two feet apart and naked.
He shut his eyes and leaned back, and Ginny felt hot flames lap at her skin.
Oh gods, I can almost see . . . I can see that Mark.
"Ginny?"
"Hmm?" She was desperately trying to keep her body under water and at the same time appear casual, and not stare at him or his Dark Mark.
He stretched for the two glasses on the bank and she couldn't help but notice the curve of his lower back. He handed her a glass. "Do you still hate me?"
"No," she whispered honestly.
"Do you like me, or have you just moved to toleration?"
"I, I don't know."
"You don't?"
Ginny swore he had moved closer, closing the space between them. "I don't know you," she said desperately. "I don't know who you are outside of here. I don't even know what you do when you go to work each day." She paused. "And I don't know what you do when you leave here at night either."
"Maybe there are things you shouldn't know about a person." He was definitely closer.
"Then how can I know if I like you or not?"
"I think you already know." He was mere inches away.
Ginny's heart was panting frantically against her skin, begging her, warning her. "I don't think . . ."
He took the glass from her hand and placed it back on the tray. His hand made its way slowly up her arm, trailed across her shoulder, and stopped under her chin. "Look at me." He tilted her face up.
Ginny nearly turned and swam away, but she steadied herself and managed to look up. She could feel his skin pressed so lightly, and yet so heavily, into her own; she could feel things she hadn't felt before, things she hadn't even allowed herself to think about before.
"Are you happy here?" His lips were so close to her ear, she could feel the heat and alcohol on his breath.
"Sometimes."
He brought his lips to hers and kissed her. It wasn't like the kiss they had shared more than a month ago, whisper soft and delicate. It was hard and needy, and his tongue was sweeping through her mouth. She could feel him, feel his hardness pressed into her belly, and without thinking, she let her hands wrap around his back, urging him closer to her.
With his fingers, he swept her hair back from her face and kissed her chin, and then moved to her neck and ear, and Ginny dropped her head back and allowed a small sigh to escape her lips. She was standing upright now, the water barely reaching her chest, but for that one moment, she didn't care.
Her bare chest was pressed firmly against his, and she was gasping for air.
"Sir?" a squeaky voice interrupted.
Ginny backed away quickly, but Draco looked at the house elf with murder in his eyes.
"I is sorry sir, but we is getting owls, and now howlers, sir. From your father, sir," the elf quaked.
Draco closed his eyes, and looked as though he was trying not to explode. "Very well," he said finally. "I will be right there."
Ginny crossed her arms uncomfortably over her chest.
"Please bring us Ginny's clothes."
The elf nodded and scurried off.
"Shall we?" Draco held out his hand.
She reached for his hand and tried not to notice where he was staring, and how his eyes were sweeping over her.
She tried to pretend like she wasn't watching him as they dressed.
As they walked back across the grass, he picked up her hand again. "I'll go get ready for dinner," Ginny mumbled as they reached the house.
Even as she made her way up the stairs, she could hear Lucius's voice echoing from the Howler. "Leaving work early, all the Floo shut off at your home, what is going on?"
***
"Draco?" Ginny called several nights later. "Do you want to-" She stopped short, finding him in the entrance hall. "Where are you going?"
Draco sighed and continued fastening his cufflinks.
She had seen him when he had to leave because his Mark burned. He simply clutched his arm, nodded her a silent goodbye, and apparated away. He never dressed up for that.
"Look," he told her, "I won't lie to you. I'll be entertaining a client tonight."
"A client?" She hated the way her voice wavered so pathetically.
"Don't you think people wonder why the Malfoy heir never dates? Why he isn't engaged already? I can't have people getting suspicious."
His voice was tinged with bitterness, but she didn't care. "Oh. Okay then." She turned on her heel and tried to casually walk away, but she couldn't stop herself from walking just a little too fast.
"Gin, wait."
She ignored him and kept going until she reached her room.
Oh how she hated herself for being so truly pathetic. She sat at the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands, catching her tears as they fell.
I'm so stupid.
Part of her wished he would come running into the room and tell her he wasn't going. Another part of her, a small part that was quickly fading, hoped he fell for the "client" and left her alone.
She forced herself to sit still for thirty full minutes, and when Draco didn't come groveling, she stood to her feet and had a fit.
She picked up a heavy vase - the same one she'd thrown at him almost a year ago - and smashed it on the floor. With a piece of the China, she began to gouge the posts of her oak bed until they were discolored and marred. She considered smashing the telly, but quickly decided against it. She wasn't quite sure if Muggle objects could be fixed with magic, and she'd grown fairly attached to it.
She gave a start when a sharp corner of the china pierced her palm. She stared at the tiny dot of blood that escaped her puncture, and a new thought occurred to her. I could really hurt myself with this. Tentatively, she raised her left arm, and with a shaking hand, drew the sharp China down the inside of her arm. It wasn't enough to do very much damage, just a nasty scratch, really, but the blood that leaked out made her stomach churn. Hurriedly, she rushed to her bathroom and held one of the lush white towels against her forearm. When she was sure the bleeding had stopped, she threw the towel to the floor and went down the two flights of stairs to the wine cellar.
It was Sully who found her, completely intoxicated, but still awake, a half empty bottle of Muggle rum tucked between her legs.
Sully clucked her tongue. "I believes it is you bedtime, Missus."
"No," Ginny mumbled, her head lolling to the side. "I'm gonna sit here till I bloody well pass out."
"The moment yous head touches your pillow, yous will!" the elf said rather crossly. She handed Ginny a small vial. "Drink this."
"No," she slurred.
"It's not to sober ups," Sully informed her. "Although you could use it. It's so you will nots be sick in the morning."
"Maybe I will be sick, and Draco can clean it up," she snorted.
"Take it," Draco's voice came to her from the doorway.
She tried to focus her eyes on him, but they kept sliding across his blurry figure. Ginny snatched the vial from Sully and swallowed quickly, and then pushed herself to her feet. Swaying, she tried to stomp from the room, and as she pushed past Draco, she hissed, "Fuck you. I do hate you."
She stumbled up the stairs, and pushed the door to her room open. It took a minute, but she focused on the mess and changed her mind. She didn't remember yanking the bedclothes from the bed, but she must have.
"Sod it," she muttered. She balanced herself against the wall and staggered to the room she had found weeks ago. She threw the door open and sloppily stripped off her clothes, and then let herself crawl into the absolute luxuriousness of the Chinese Wedding bed.
~~~~~~
A/N: I finally sat down and wrote out an outline for this story, and there's a lot of stuff to cover, so I've opted for longer chapters. However, that is not set in stone. Let me know what you would prefer, the longer chapters or short chapters that get updated a bit quicker. Also, if you are interested in plot bunnies for this site, you can go to http://www.livejournal.com/users/ginnyweasley100. That's my community for everything Ginny & I've been putting plot bunnies in there recently. Join up, join up!
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