Unofficial Portkey Archive

Keep It Unclean

Chapter Eight

'So,' Hermione said slowly, 'when did all of this start arriving?'

Ginny looked around her kitchen wearily. 'Oh, hours ago. Some ungodly hour like seven in the morning I think. All I really remember is being rudely awoken by a rather large owl practically pecking a hole through my bedroom window.'

'Wow.'

'Yes. I was quite impressed too.'

They lapsed into an awe filled silence, neither one quite sure of what to say. It wasn't every day that a girl was faced with this kind of situation and Ginny was sure she should be savouring it while it lasted. Of course the intention was not lost on her. A fairy tale was being created on her behalf but she couldn't help feeling more than a little uncomfortable.

'And all of this was triggered by seeing you at the bar?' Hermione eventually ventured. 'It seems like a bit of an extreme reaction.'

'I believe he's trying to tell me something.'

'He's not exactly discreet or subtle is he?' Hermione smiled slightly. 'There are enough flowers in here to sink an entire fleet. In fact the smell is beginning to make me feel more than a little bit nauseous.'

Hermione had a point. The entire kitchen was crammed full of a colourful array of flowers, each one attractively clashing with the other. So numerous were the floral displays, the air was saturated with their sweet scents. It was a good job Ginny didn't suffer from hay fever otherwise she would have had to leave the flat entirely. She had a sinking feeling that, now she'd filled one room, the flowers weren't going to stop. Already the gifts were starting to become increasingly odd.

'If he wants to waste money on buying me pointless gifts, than who am I to stop him?' Ginny asked unconvincingly. 'After all he is a full grown man with a mind of his own.'

'Pointless? I thought that was exactly the opposite to all of this,' Hermione gestured around her. 'I'm afraid this stinks of having purpose and meaning - both of which are far from pointless.'

She nodded despondently. 'Well it's not going to achieve anything.'

Hermione released a gentle sigh. 'Even you have to admit that this is all rather romantic. Men never bombard me with flowers and presents. The closest I've ever got is a cheap box of chocolates and a sloppy kiss behind the broom shed from Ron when we at school.'

'Let's face it, Hermione,' Ginny raised her eyes to the ceiling, 'Ron was never blessed with much imagination. That was probably his most successful overblown romantic gesture. Just be glad in the knowledge that it most likely went downhill from there.'

'That's a great comfort,' she giggled.

'Harry was always rubbish in that department too. He once bought me a stuffed cat.'

'Why?'

'Something about scaring away mice without being inhumane,' Ginny frowned slightly at the memory. 'I did try and explain that stuffing a dead cat was probably more offensive, but he didn't seem to quite grasp the concept. Seemed to think it would act like a scarecrow. You wouldn't think he had qualifications, would you? Needless to say it was completely useless and the least romantic thing I've ever been given.'

'They do say that it's the thought that counts,' Hermione said in her most sage tone.

'That's the thing though,' she stabbed her finger on the table top decisively, 'I don't think he put the thoughts he's meant to put into all of this. He's trying to prove a point, which only makes this more contrived than if it were for real.'

'You don't think he's in love with you then?'

Ginny snorted with laughter. 'I think I can safely say that love is the last thing on his mind.'

'What makes you so sure? Yes, Malfoy is a bit of a shit but that doesn't mean he's incapable of human emotion,' Hermione asked, a little unsure of the last part of her theory. 'For all you know he could be madly in love with you and this is the only way he can express it.'

'You're forgetting that Malfoy is emotionally stunted. Plus he told me he didn't love me and I know he's a brutally honest person. He has absolutely no scruples as to telling you his opinion, the only question is whether or not he decides to be polite in his delivery of it.'

'It could all be a ruse. A double bluff.'

'No. It was the truth,' she replied frankly, fiddling with a strand of hair. 'I wouldn't want him to love me anyway. That's not how it works.'

'Well explain to me then why he's sending you all these extravagant things?' Hermione said with a hint of frustration. 'Because I'm very confused by the whole thing.'

'Okay. I'll start from the beginning…'

***

Having left the Malfoy residence, irritated and determined to do something rebellious, Ginny found herself wandering into Diagon Alley. The road was filled with aggravated mothers dragging their offspring behind them, trying to buy this and that without too many complications. People milled around chatting; the working day was over and a blanket of relief seemed to have settled over everyone. Ginny darted between the people unsure of which direction to take. Should she go home, drink some butter beer and settle down for a night of wallowing? Maybe drop by on Hermione to dissect the days events? Or should she go out and try out her new theories on many unsuspecting men?

It wasn't that she was scared. Not in the least. The idea of approaching strange men and selling herself wasn't making her heart shudder with fear. It wasn't giving her sweaty palms. Nope.

Okay, she admitted to herself, so maybe she was more than a little terrified. In theory it seemed like the right direction to go in, but putting it into practise was another thing altogether. She knew exactly what would happen; at some point during the night her natural impulse for self-preservation would kick in and she'd be unable to follow through. Even though she had a goal in mind, she would stumble over words, flush bright pink and eventually excuse herself.

Slowly, but surely, Ginny managed to put herself off the idea. There was no need to put herself in that position just to prove a point. Instead she would go home, curl up with the dog and contemplate her manuscript.

However, when she was walking past 'The Ugly Bug Bar' something happened to change her mind. She had always held the belief that there was such a thing as fate guiding her through life. A consequence of this was that she also believed in signs. This particular sign read "Free Drinks Before Six!" in flashing green lights. Well, she couldn't really turn down a free drink, could she?

As she walked in she was struck by the lack of people inside. 'No wonder they're giving it away,' she mumbled to herself as she walked over to the bar.

Once there it didn't take her long to locate a seat next to a hulk of a man with long dusty blonde hair and a very tight t-shirt. He was exactly the stereotype she needed. As she pulled herself up onto the bar stool, he glanced in her direction with interest; it wasn't exactly busy and there were plenty of empty seats. She met his eyes and smiled broadly.

'Buy me a drink?' she asked in what she hoped was a seductive tone.

'Erm…' he mumbled. 'Their free…'

'Oh. Right…'

'We could pretend though? I'll order for you?' he smiled softly.

'That would be lovely,' Ginny said biting her lip nervously. 'Thank you. I'm Ginny, by the way.'

'Johan.'

An hour passed with little to comment on; they discussed the weather, their dislike of onions and the way people are intolerant of others. All in all, it was going along swimmingly and Ginny could feel herself getting swept away by the potential of a new acquaintance. However, she had known something would go wrong - it was inevitable when things were going so well. She knew the moment she felt a presence behind her and saw a small frown appear on Johan's face. And then the voice…

'Weasley,' Draco murmured slyly, placing a protective hand on her hip, 'I've been looking all over for you.'

What followed was a horrific moment of silence. Ginny looked at Malfoy who in turn seemed to be giving Johan a look that could curdle milk. The shock was apparent from his face and she knew, just knew, that he was beginning to panic. Any second now he was going to hold his hands up, deny the fact that he'd had any interest in her and run away.

'Oh right…' Johan said, his face registering recognition of Malfoy. 'I didn't realise you…I mean, this seat was taken. Erm. It was nice meeting you. Both.' He turned quickly and fled from the scene, his tail firmly between his legs.

'What on earth did you do that for?' Ginny asked as she pushed his hand off her.

'He wasn't worth the effort Weasley if he's going to crumble so easily under competition.'

'There is no competition.'

'I know,' he raised an eyebrow cheekily. 'I would win hands down and he knew that.'

Ginny let out a small, slightly hysterical, shriek of irritation. 'Of all the arrogance! Why do you insist on torturing me like this? I distinctly remember making it clear that I had no interest in continuing our…' she floundered for a word, 'relationship, but here you are. Following me around like some lost puppy. It's pathetic.'

Malfoy smiled to himself and rested his elbows on the bar in front of him. 'Be honest now. Don't hold back.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Oh, don't think I'm going to feel bad about this. It isn't going to happen. Shall I tell you why? Because you're stalking me!'

'Not really. I just happened to be in the same place at the same time. A happy coincidence some would say,' he said smoothly. 'One which has given me the opportunity to speak with you about what happened earlier.'

'I don't think so, Malfoy,' she jumped off her stool quickly to make an exit but was stopped by his hand tightly gripped around her wrist.

'You're going to listen to what I've come to say and then you may go,' he said with discomforting quietness. 'Okay?'

'No. It's not okay.'

'Tough.'

Ginny stared at him incredulously. 'Are you going to force me to listen to you?'

'Needs must.'

She released a long sigh and looked down at his hand around her wrist. There was always the option of causing a scene, but was it really worth it? Ultimately it would probably be a waste of time. Anyway deep down she was curious as to what he had to say. It couldn't hurt to hear him out, could it?

'Fine,' she said eventually. 'Speak.'

He let go of her cautiously. 'I realise that I hurt your pride earlier…'

Ginny snorted in a way she hoped conveyed that she couldn't care less about what occurred. The last thing she wanted was for him to think he'd had any effect on her.

'However, I stand by my decision to stop what was happening,' he continued, ignoring her outburst. 'I think it would have been wrong for us to shag. Against the grain and all that. This aside, I hate to admit that I have been more than a little troubled by what you said about switching places. It would appear that my good intentions have changed your own outlook on the whole romance, love thing.'

***

'Hang on! Did you just say "shag"?!' Hermione interrupted abruptly.

'Yeah,' Ginny said slowly. 'There's probably something I should have told you beforehand…'

'Did you…?' she asked with a horrified look. 'You know…with Malfoy?'

'Almost,' Ginny conceded uncomfortably. 'It was all very sudden.'

Hermione pursed her lips. 'And this fact just happened to slip your mind?'

'Do you want to hear the story, or not?'

'Go on then,' she rolled her eyes, 'but I expect a full explanation when you've finished.'

***

It was beginning to unnerve her that he was being so formal; she had the impression that he'd been practising this speech for some time.

'Then it occurred to me that I had made a promise to you.'

'You did?'

'Yes,' he said slowly, obviously irritated at being interrupted again. 'I promised never to agree with you.'

'But that was just a joke…an off-hand comment. There was no meaning to it.'

'I think it's mutated into something else. You see the thought of my own opinion being identical with your own…well, frankly it both repulses and disturbs me.'

'Be honest now,' she mimicked irritably, flailing her hands about. 'Don't hold back.'

'The thought that this frigid romantic should decide that she was wrong the whole time,' he persevered, 'that there was in fact no reason to hope for a Mr. Right, and that promiscuous sex was the best way to go - it doesn't sit well with me. I feel somewhat guilty and, let's be honest, it isn't something I feel frequently.'

'I'm not frigid!' Ginny insisted. 'I'm just not!'

'You can't blame me for being honest when you're the one who told me not to hold back,' he said with a sly smile. 'Really, you must learn to control yourself. First trying to seduce me and now this. Shocking.'

Ginny's eyes narrowed. 'I did not try and seduce you!'

'Oh really?' he rested his head on one hand and regarded her disbelievingly. 'You could have fooled me. All that pent up sexual frustration and angst. The cute little glare. Forcing yourself into my house. Practically ripping my shirt off at the first chance. Complaining when you didn't have your wicked way. The evidence all seems pretty damning I'm afraid.'

'I…' she spluttered. 'You know very well that my intention wasn't anything of the sort! If anything you were trying to seduce me!'

'How?' Malfoy said with lazy amusement. 'Explain exactly how I started it.'

'Erm…you kissed me first!' she said triumphantly, jabbing her finger down onto the surface of the bar. 'And there was definitely some heavy groping on your part. Oh, and you were…well, you didn't seem entirely unhappy to see me.'

'Actually I think you'll find that you kissed me first,' he drawled. 'Although the groping I'll admit to.'

She blushed at the memory of her own recklessness. 'You asked me to,' she hissed quietly so no-one else would hear. 'I distinctly remember.'

'You didn't have to comply, Weasley. I hate to break it to you but you did that yourself.'

Ginny crossed her arms and let out a huff of exasperation. She knew she'd lost this argument and it was killing her. The embarrassment was almost crippling. Her eyes focused on the drinks board and she pretended to be absorbed in it.

'Anyway this is not the time for finger pointing, even though I'm right and you're wrong,' Malfoy said apparently not put off by her avoidance. 'Do you know why I agreed to these meetings? You caught me in a bored moment. That's one of the worst things about being who I am - nothing ever really excites me anymore. Sometimes it seems like I've done everything already. Then when you came in, begging for help, needy and generally desperate, I couldn't help myself. Listening to some of the tripe you came out with was fascinating. And the best bit was that I could never get a handle on you! Were you playing the mourning widow, the prudish aunt or the moral nun? So I told you everything; every single sordid detail. I really wanted to shock you with my insight. Except it didn't pan out how I planned. I realised that it wasn't just a bored moment, it was a bored life. You meet a woman, maybe you have the best sex of your life, but then what? A house, mortgage and three kids? It's not what I want.' He stopped and seemed to be contemplating what to say next.

The moment he started speaking Ginny's attention had been captured. She turned to look at him and frowned slightly. This wasn't how it was supposed to be - she was supposed to be the one using him. It shouldn't have been about providing entertainment for himself. Then again what had she thought? That he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart? Nope. She had been too wrapped up in her own problems to see that it wasn't simply arrogance.

'Then you try to seduce me,' he laughed to himself coldly. 'On one hand you would have been a nice little conquest - I would have loved rubbing it in Potter's face - but on the other…'

'Oh, please!' she interrupted rolling her eyes. 'I don't believe that for one second. It's far too cliché to think that you would shag me just because of a school grudge.'

He smiled slightly. 'You really have that much faith in my being a decent person?'

'You're many things, Malfoy, but decent isn't one of them. I know you're far too scheming to do something so predictable. If you really cared you would have thought of something else. Something that would have hurt him far more than sexual jealousy.'

'Like?'

'Dirtying his good name in the press? A well-timed vicious rumour about his abilities in the bedroom? I don't know!' she giggled softly. 'All I know is that you would have thought of something suitably underhand and devious. After all you have a reputation to uphold.'

Malfoy smirked. 'True.'

'I didn't try and seduce you though,' she said firmly.

'Fine,' he conceded. 'We'll say that it was a joint effort.'

'That's better,' she agreed with a smile. Ginny was surprised by the ease in which their attitude towards one another had changed again. One minute they were at one another's throats and now what? Friends?

'Anyway, my point is that I don't think you should be prostituting yourself to muscle-clad Scandinavian types in places of questionable reputation. It would change the whole balance of things. I would actually have to make an effort at monogamy!'

'Hang on a second,' she laughed. 'Weren't you the one that introduced me to this bar?'

'Exactly. It's where I pick up all my floosies,' he nodded sagely.

They smiled at one another. Ginny felt slightly uneasy at their sudden amiability. She looked away and casually scanned the room. The last thing she wanted was for Malfoy to sense her hesitation. In some respects she would rather they were arguing. At least that way she would know where she stood. There was only one thing to do.

'Have you finished your little speech then?' she asked off-hand. 'Because I'd quite like to find Johan and pick up where we left off.'

Take matters into her own hands.

Malfoy heaved a sigh. 'You really are the most irritating wench, you realise that don't you?'

'Bugger off Malfoy. You're not one to preach,' she said harshly. 'I'm a big girl now and I can look after myself. Whatever happened to you having no right to interfere? It doesn't seem to be bothering you like it was earlier.'

All of a sudden his hand had snaked its way back round her wrist. The tips of his fingers dug into her flesh and she squirmed beneath his grip. 'Let go,' she said angrily.

'I will make you change your mind,' he said with a cold firmness. 'I'm going to make you see that this isn't what you want.'

'How would you know what it is I want?' she asked.

He released her hand with a devious little smile. 'Because, Weasley, I've read your manuscript.'

***

'…and then he swaggered off as if he owned the place. Bastard.'

Hermione leant forward in her chair, her lips parted in shock. 'And that was all he said? That he'd read the book?'

Ginny nodded. 'Then when I woke up this morning it was to find myself bombarded by romantic messages, flowers and so forth.'

'Wow. How do you know it's all from him? Couldn't it be from Harry…' Hermione asked curiously, then quickly added, 'or someone else?'

'Ah,' Ginny rose from where she was perched on the kitchen counter. Padding across the kitchen, she picked up a box that was by the bread bin and passed it to her friend. 'This came about an hour before you arrived. Before I had thought that it might be Harry reacting to what he saw happen between me and Malfoy, but this confirmed otherwise.'

She watched as Hermione slowly and cautiously turned the small box in her hands. It was a blue and incredibly plain - neither attractive nor ugly. 'You would have thought he could have splashed out on a better package,' Hermione murmured critically. 'I wouldn't be won over by this.'

'You're not reading enough into it,' Ginny couldn't help but smile. 'It's simple. It doesn't need to be dramatic or flamboyant. Basically it's symbolic of my desire for true love. Remember, it's what's on the inside that counts.'

'Yeah…' Hermione replied flatly. 'How could I have missed that?'

'Open it.'

Hermione slipped her nails under the lid and popped it off. Inside there was a bright silver watch nestled in cotton wool. She picked it up, flipped it over and examined the inscription on the back of the face. 'Gosh, it's a Xelor. That's probably the most expensive brand of watch you can buy,' she ran her fingers over the polished metal. 'I know Harry isn't into material things, but he could have afforded something like this.'

Ginny shook her head and plucked the watch from her friends hand. For a second she allowed herself to revel in the gorgeous design on the face and the comforting weight of it in her hand. 'No. Malfoy is obsessed by time. He's always looking at his wrist to see what time it is. This is his watch.'

'Are you sure?'

She looked up from the watch with a smirk. 'You haven't read the note yet.'

Turning her attention back to the box, Hermione pulled a scrap of paper out of the mass of cotton wool. She cleared her throat and squinted to read the writing. '"How can I keep the time when every second away from you is an eternity?" Merlin, that's cheesy.'

'Precisely. Unadulterated cheese. It's cheese that has its own range of sentimental greeting cards,' she sighed wearily. 'But that's not the worst of it. I'm pretty sure it's a play on a line from my book.'

'Eurgh,' her friend pulled a face. 'What did you write?'

Ginny clicked her tongue. She hated telling people she knew about her book. It always made her feel slightly violated and judged. They would be unable to relate the Ginny before them to the Ginny who writes about grand romance. They would see past the words and know, just know, what it was that hid behind her cynical exterior. Just like Malfoy had.

'Erm. It really has to be in context,' she said eventually. 'You wouldn't understand.'

'Tell me!' Hermione demanded bossily. 'You know I hate it when you avoid questions. It's just plain rude.'

'Alright,' she cringed slightly. 'Handsome is in the woods with Emerald, his arm's been severed by a maniacal pink flamingo who's been trained by an evil carpenter to attack anyone who enters the area. As he lies on a fallen tree trunk, bleeding to death, he says "How can I go on living when every moment on this earth with you prepares me for heaven itself."'

'That's…sweet,' Hermione reassured uncertainly. 'But how on earth did a flamingo sever his arm?'

'Razor-sharp beak,' Ginny confessed guiltily. 'His mate, Enrique, was being held captive by the carpenter. He had to do as he was told otherwise the other flamingo would be slaughtered.'

'He's a gay flamingo?'

'Yes.'

'I see. A gay flamingo, with a razor-sharp beak and anthropomorphic tendencies?'

'Uh-huh.'

'A homosexual…'

'Yes! Get over it!' Ginny interrupted loudly. 'You're missing the point. Malfoy is using my own book against me!'

They lapsed into silence, Ginny embarrassed by the way she'd made her plot sound and Hermione because she'd laugh otherwise. Unfortunately she was unable to control the building pressure in her throat. A giggle escaped her lips, but was quickly silenced. Ginny glared at her friend. 'What was that?'

'Nothing.'

'You were laughing! At Francois the gay flamingo!' Ginny pointed an accusing finger at Hermione. 'How could you?!'

'I'm sorry Ginny,' she buried her head in her hands and shook with suppressed laugh. 'A French gay flamingo!'

'Merlin, you're no bloody good at helping me, are you? I'm being stalked by a sex-crazed, misogynistic millionaire and all you can do is lay about, laughing your head off about my hard work! I'd like to see you try and write a book. Honestly, I'm shocked by this behaviour.' Whilst speaking Ginny held back the urge to laugh at her own absurdity. She wouldn't give Hermione the satisfaction.

'I'm so sorry. Really I am. I don't know what came over me…' Hermione's face emerged from her hands blotched and flushed from laughter. 'Maybe it's all these flowers going to my head.'

Ginny let out a snort of laughter. 'Yeah right.'

Hermione smoothed her hair out with her hands and fanned her face. Shaking herself firmly, she straightened her back and placed a business-like look on her face. 'I've got it under control now. Won't happen again.'

Walking across the kitchen, Ginny drew her wand from the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and summoned up a couple of mugs of coffee. Picking up her own mug, she took a deep gulp and held it in her mouth, allowing the warmth to gently burn the roof of her mouth. She was tired and the stress of receiving gifts was beginning to grind on her nerves. It had always been one of those things that she had never been able to accept graciously; whenever people bought her things she was filled with a sense of guilt. Should she buy them something in return? Or simply say "thanks" and forget about it? The awful thing was that at some point she would have to dispose of the item, for one reason or another, but at the back of her head she would remember who/where/when and feel bad about it all.

'I think you should just tell him that he's wasting his time. You're not interested in pursuing a relationship with him, so what's the point of him lavishing you with all this attention,' Hermione said suddenly, taking her own mug from the work top. 'It's just bad manners.'

Ginny shook her head gently. 'It's not about having a relationship. If anything it's about the opposite.'

'I still don't understand…'

'It's like this,' she said softly. 'When you start reading a book you expect certain things to happen. For example the protagonist will always find what they're looking for, whether it be buried treasure or love. If that didn't occur we'd want a refund - it would be offensive to our own artistic and disillusioned nature. Happy endings aren't always required but are preferred. Taking this into consideration, I think it's fair to say that we can always see the hero coming a mile off. It seems so obvious to us!

'Real life however leaves a lot to be desired in comparison. There aren't any perfect sunsets, raging storms or ultimate love because these things are all creations of the mind. A sunset is ultimately a sunset, a storm is always a storm and love… It's all about the degree to which you take something. For example, I loved Harry but he used to fold our clothes and put them in a neat pile before making love. Don't you think that's weird? But it didn't matter. I loved him more than I loved myself because that's how I wanted it to be. I'd read the books, seen the plays, heard the poetry. I took all the evidence in, examined it and reached the conclusion that it must be love. What I didn't realise is that love cannot be restrained to well-meaning words, sincere looks and meaningful touches.

'Malfoy knows I'm not interested in him. Likewise he holds no real interest in me. Unfortunately he's like a dog with a bone and he insists on being difficult. He believes that sex, lust, desire, passion and attraction are paramount to every other emotion and that romance is contrived. By trying to prove that point of view he somehow won me over.'

'I wonder how that happened,' Hermione cut in sarcastically. 'Oh, yes, I remember! You two almost had sex!'

'Hush you,' Ginny scolded affectionately, slapping her friend's arm. 'Nothing really happened. We just sort of grappled with one another for a couple of minutes.'

'Grappled? Such a pleasant choice of words,' Hermione remarked.

'It's been awhile. Sometimes a person, especially one who's feeling particularly vulnerable, can be victim to their own innate sexual urges. I'd like to think that the fact it was Malfoy was irrelevant…he just happened to be in the right place, at the right time…'

'In other words you were desperate.'

Ginny sighed. 'I prefer the word…frisky.'

Hermione smiled slightly and took a slow sip from her mug. Ginny looked at her expectantly. Surely there was some sort of witty retort to come? Maybe a sound telling-off? After a couple of minutes it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything else.

'Anyway…' Ginny began, trying to break the silence. 'My point is that Malfoy wants me to want all of this. It's his way of reminding the romantic part of me what I most desire.'

'Well, it all seems rather bizarre to me!' Hermione said finally. 'This isn't normal behaviour. Men don't go to these extremes unless they want something - I guess to that extent I fully agree with his theory on romance. There must be an ulterior motive at play here! There must!'

Ginny pursed her lips and considered the point. To her it all seemed blatantly clear, like looking out from the top of a mountain and seeing everything spread before her. It seemed the only rational - no, irrational - explanation. Malfoy was simply trying to be clever in his approach to the challenge. He was determined to remind her of what it was she truly wanted; flowers, chocolates, sacrifices and noble courtship. To her mind's eye she could see him planning everything out, reading over her book and picking out all the pieces that were her and discarding all the dressings. She felt exposed, naked and vulnerable. That book was an extension of her very soul and for it to be used in such a manner felt like a violation of the highest order.

It was just a good job it wasn't meant to be real…wasn't it?