Author's Notes:
Okay, here's Chapter 5. I hope it doesn't choke anyone going down. Thanks for reading and for the many kind reviews. - fallenwitch
Chapter 5
Those Bastards Are Too Physical For Her
Draco looked up and over, startled by the sound of her laughter floating down the crowded table. He could count the number of times he had heard that delightful sound on one hand. Blaise was leaning over the table and into Ginny's face, talking up a storm, stopping only long enough to allow her to catch her breath between fits of giddy laughter.
The pair was ensconced at one end of a long table at The Leaky Cauldron where the Quidditch team had gathered for supper after their usual Saturday afternoon match. Draco watched them from the comfort of his luxury seat, squashed between McMillan and Hill, both talking trash, at the other end of the table.
A full month had passed since the fiasco at the Three Broomsticks. Draco and Blaise had reconciled with a truce, brokered by Ginny, who had an inexplicable affection for her one-time escort. Blaise agreed not to be an irresponsible, drunken arsehole around Ginny, and Draco agreed to allow the irascible Slytherin back into her life.
"Hey, Malfoy," Hill said, knocking Draco in the shoulder, "you in or not?"
"Huh?" Draco turned around, staring dumbly.
"You in for a round or two?" Draco shook his head.
"No. I've got to take Ginny home." Hill shrugged his shoulders.
"Looks like Zabini's all over that one." Snorting, Draco stood and went to collect his piece of property, the one that Blaise was entertaining the hell out of.
"Draco!" Blaise called out as he approached.
"Come on, Ginny. It's time to go." Ginny nodded and stood, gathering her cloak in a rush. Blaise had one hand on her arm.
"Ah, come on, Gin, stay awhile. I'll take you home later." Blaise looked over at Draco. "I'll be on my best sober behavior, I promise." Ginny looked up at Draco, who shook his head. Blaise rolled his eyes. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, cut the witch some slack."
Draco held out his hand, and Ginny hurried to take it. "Not tonight, Blaise. I've got to work, and Sam's off."
"What am I? A stinking piece of Muggle trash? I'll look after her." When Draco shook his head, Blaise threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Hold a bloody grudge for rest of your life, Draco."
Sighing, Draco looked at Ginny. "Blaise," she said with one hand on his shoulder, "I'm tired. I'll see you next week." Blaise put his hand on hers.
"Alright, love," then he turned his eyes to Draco, "and don't let that git push you around in the meantime." Ginny looked over at Draco.
"He doesn't push me around, honestly." Blaise snorted and let go of her hand. He doesn't push you around, my arse, Blaise thought, looking for the magical leash Draco had around her neck. If he yanked the damn thing any harder, he would strangle the bloody witch to death.
----- ----- ------
A week later, Draco followed his piece of property, the one he had taken out for a bit of night air, into the Zabini foyer and stood while the usual house elves descended on them, taking their cloaks. Ginny hung onto the bottle of wine they had brought for the Quidditch team dinner.
When Blaise owl'd the invitation, he addressed it to Ginny with a thoughtfully added postscript saying that Draco was welcome to accompany her; however, he didn't give a damn if the team Seeker showed up or not. Typical.
Draco made a mental note that afternoon to speak with Blaise about his shitty attitude, the one demanding equal rights and a liberated lifestyle for the crimson ball and chain around his Malfoy neck. Who the hell would have guessed that Blaise, of all the goddamn wizards in the universe, would be pounding at his floo, trying to knock the damn thing down to get to Ginny? She wasn't his type. Not even close. Blaise preferred hardheaded, independent types with buxom, knockout good looks and a desire to party and shag at least equal to his own, no easy task.
Why didn't he let Zabini have at her? Because Blaise wasn't the monogamous, marrying kind, that's why. When Draco let go of Ginny, he decided it would be to marry a wizard worthy of her. What about his original plan, the one involving any member of his Quidditch team? He had long ago abandoned that one. Why? Because it stank, that's why, so bugger off.
"Master Zabini is expecting you," his butler said, before throwing open the double doors to the main sitting room on the first floor. Draco continued to follow his piece of property, right until the moment he crashed into her after she stopped abruptly in front of him. The room was dark. What the hell? A roaring flash of blinding lights came on.
"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DRACO!"
Draco looked up from behind Ginny's shoulder to see over two hundred of the wizarding world's finest, young elite, dressed to the hilt, smiling back at him. Fuck. No, fucked - totally, royally fucked. A forced smile came over his horrified face.
CRASH!
Merlin. Ginny didn't realize she had dropped the bottle of wine until she heard its shattering holler and the collective gasp. She looked down at the spoiled vintage splattered across the bottom of her dress robes and across the floor.
Blaise stepped forward, laughing and slapping Draco on the shoulder, before giving him a hearty handshake. "Happy Birthday, mate! Knew you wouldn't let her come alone." Then he went for Ginny, kissing her on the cheek. "Don't worry about that, love. The elves will take care of it."
Before Draco could blink or breathe or aspirate on his own fluids, Blaise whisked Ginny away. No, he didn't have time to grab a hold of her. Instead, he was left land locked in a sea of well-wishers. Unbelievable. Unfuckingbelievable. Would one of these well-wishing arseholes kindly step forward and Avada him from this godforsaken nightmare?
Ginny stood in the Zabini library, off the main hall, with a fleet of elves cleaning and repairing her soiled robes. Blaise stuck his head in the door before plopping down on the sofa and throwing his dress boots on top of the coffee table. He waited patiently for five minutes.
"Enough! Enough! Out!" Then he stood and held out his hand for Ginny. "Come on, love. You look ravishing. Why don't you give me the first dance?" Ginny shook her head and took two steps back, almost landing in the fireplace. Blaise grabbed her. "Careful." He looked at her, tense and worried. "What's wrong?"
"Take me home, Blaise."
"What?"
"Please, take me home. I can't stay here. I need to go home," she pleaded. He shook his head.
"Absolutely not." Ginny glanced around and noted no alternate exits. "Merlin, Ginny, it's not Draco you're worried about, is it?"
She nodded.
"Forget that git. Come on. Let's go kick up our heels a bit. When this night is over, you won't even remember his name." Wrapping his arm around her waist, Blaise escorted Ginny's stiff and unwilling figure down the hall and back into the ballroom, where a wizarding band was softly floating music across the room. Blaise was chatting away, but Ginny heard nothing. Instead, in the middle of a crush of people, she deftly dislodged herself from his grasp and took off.
"Ginny. Ginny, no!" Blaise cried, watching her escape from his disappointed grasp. She paid him no heed, nimbly weaving her way through the crush of partygoers. Sighing, he watched her go.
Oh, bloody hell. By the time he realized her destination and took off after her, he was too late. She had already cleared the set of double French doors leading to the grounds, where she picked up the bottom of her robes and made a frantic dash through the gardens, dodging hedges and trees and dense foliage.
Shit. Blaise recklessly pushed and shoved his way through the crowded room before bursting out those damn garden doors. She was fast, but he was faster and familiar with the territory they were racing through.
"Ginny! Ginny, stop! Wait!" She was crazed, possessed. "Ginny, please!"
Rounding the outer edge of the gardens, Blaise was forced to make a spectacular running tackle to stop her. They came crashing down, robes ripping and skin scrapping as she continued to struggle against him, beating and kicking him. He didn't give a damn. No, Blaise locked his arms firmly around her, refusing to let go.
"Ginny. Ginny," he said in a soothing voice, "don't. What's wrong, love?"
When she was too exhausted to fight him, she collapsed, and he held her in his arms, cradling her shaking form to his.
"Shhh… it's okay. We don't have to go back in if you don't want to, alright?" He felt her nodding against his chest as her rigid body went limp. "We'll stay right here." She nodded again, attempting to stifle a relieved cry.
Blaise looked at the fragile, crying witch in his arms. What the hell did he do to bring this on? Good lord, they couldn't go back in now. Draco would bloody Crucio him. If not now, then when he found out, he would.
----- ----- -----
Where the hell was she? Draco scanned the miserable room a dozen times before he broke out of the claustrophobic crowd surrounding him and went in search of her awol arse.
"Oi, Malfoy, Happy Birthday to you!" Tom wrapped his arms around Draco in an enormous, drunken bear hug.
"Thanks, Tom. Have you seen Ginny?"
"'Course I saw her. How could I miss her?"
"Where is she?"
"Zabini ran her off. That's where she is," Tom said in a huff.
"What?" Draco stared at the drunken Irishman.
"He ran off me Ginny. I saw him chase her right out those doors." Tom pointed one thick finger at the double French doors across the room. Draco followed his line of sight right into the darkened gardens outside.
"Are you sure?" Draco grabbed Tom by the collar of his robes. "This isn't some kind of a bloody joke, is it? Did Zabini go out those doors with Ginny or not?"
"It's no ruddy joke. Do I look like I'm bloody laughing?" Tom pushed Draco's hands off of him. "I would have gone after him myself, but I'm in no shape for that tonight." Feeling panic rising in his constricting throat, Draco scanned the packed room and saw no sign of Blaise or Ginny.
What the hell was going on? Blaise chasing Ginny anywhere, much less at this type of affair, was ludicrous. If Blaise wanted her, he wouldn't be stupid enough to stalk her in front of the entire wizarding world in such a vulgar fashion. Did she see someone? Did someone say something to her? Hell, did someone go after her?
Where the fuck was Sam when you needed him? The last goddamn thing he needed was Ginny out wandering the Zabini grounds, alone and vulnerable, with no protection. Taking an unsteady breath, Draco looked back at the crowded room and out into the darkened gardens again.
Oh, fuck it. If he wasn't mistaken, it was his arse on the line out there, wasn't it? If this turned out to be a glorified snogging session, there would be hell to pay. What did he have to do, put a goddamn leash on the witch to keep her by his side? Snatching his wand out from his robes and cursing mightily under his breath, Draco ran out into the gardens in search of Ginny. The crowd inside stared at him as he inexplicably plunged into the night, alone. The only evidence of his path was the tip of his wand lighting the way.
----- ----- -----
"Ginny, why don't you let me Apparate you up to one of the rooms. You can clean up there, and then I'll take you home." Ginny nodded and felt Blaise's arms wrap around her again.
When her feet hit the floor, Ginny spied a crackling fireplace across the room and stepped over to warm her frozen appendages. Blaise stepped up beside her to do the same.
"Ginny, I never meant to upset you with Draco's party. I honestly thought you would enjoy yourself. You know how he never lets you out." She glanced over at him, the fireplace throwing golden flecks into his remorseful dark eyes.
"I know, Blaise. But I don't think Draco would want me at a party like this. This isn't the place for someone like me." Draco would bloody Crucio her if he found his piece of property exposed and mingling with the young elite of the wizarding world. Either that or something worse, he'd sell her or marry her off.
"What are you talking about? It's exactly the place for someone like you." She shook her head and looked back into the fire.
"Draco's been very generous with me. I wouldn't want to abuse that or embarrass him in anyway." Blaise let out a weary sigh.
"What is it with you two? He's overprotective, and you let him push you around." When she didn't respond to this, he continued, "Ginny, you're a beautiful, funny, spirited witch and a helluva Quidditch player. Any wizard would be crazy not to want you on his arm." No, he couldn't see her flushing pink in the shadows of the room, but he refused to let her ignore him. Blaise took Ginny's arm and forced her to look him in the eyes. "That includes Draco and me."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The doors to every room on the floor began to fly open, one after another, knocking loudly against the walls. Ginny and Blaise both looked up.
"What the hell's going on out there?" Ginny followed Blaise into the hallway where they met a panic-stricken Draco at the head of the grand spiral staircase.
Draco took one look at Ginny, at her torn and soiled robes, at her skinned knee and forearm, at her tear-streaked face and tousled hair, and all reason left his enraged body. Without waiting, he reached back and slammed his fist into Blaise, causing his teammate to double over, moaning.
"Draco, no!" Ginny screamed, rushing over to block Draco's follow-up punch. Her hands were on Draco's shoulders, attempting to hold him back, but he shoved her aside and took another swing.
Blaise deftly dodged the punch, and then reached back to slam an infuriated fist into Draco. Ginny threw herself at Draco to stop the fighting just as he stepped aside to avoid Blaise's fist. Instead of making contact with Draco's chest, her hands flailed out against nothing but air, and Ginny went tumbling, headfirst, down the two-story staircase. Her piercing scream turned eerily silent as her body crumpled into a still pool of green robes at the bottom of the staircase.
"Ginny!" they shouted in unison.
No, the two wizards didn't hear the horrified collective shudder or the shattering silence that fell over the partygoers who were watching the scene from below. They were too busy racing to the bottom of the staircase to notice anything other than the battered and motionless body of the witch who held the eyes of everyone in the grand foyer.
"Ginny, no," Draco cried, dropping to his knees beside the fallen witch. Blaise transfigured a stretcher, and they lifted her broken body onto it, attempting to move her as little as possible. Then the two wizards, now moving as one, held the unconscious witch between them and Disapparated her to St. Mungos.
----- ----- -----
Hours later, Draco and Blaise were sitting across from each other in the small waiting room at St. Mungos. Neither had spoken while they waited to receive word on her condition and prognosis.
"It wasn't what it looked like, Draco," Blaise said. Draco glanced up.
"Then you do know what it looked like." Blaise sighed.
"Of course, I bloody well know what it looked like." He shook his head. "I didn't lay a hand on Ginny, I swear." Draco snorted.
"Really? Then how the hell did she get into that condition?"
"I tackled her."
"You what?"
"I said `I tackled her' to the ground. That's how she got into that condition, alright?"
"You didn't lay a hand on her. You laid your whole fucking body on her." Draco was glaring at Blaise, incensed. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"Because she was running away from your birthday party, that's why. I didn't want her to go beyond the gardens and into the forest. She could have gotten eaten alive in there with all the dangerous creatures my stepfather keeps in there."
"Why was she running away in the first place?"
"Because I refused to take her home, and she didn't think you wanted her there, that's why. She said she didn't want to embarrass you. You tell me what that's all about. How could a witch like Ginny embarrass you, you arsehole?" Draco ran a tired hand over his face.
"She said that, did she?"
"Yes, she did," Blaise said, staring at Draco.
Draco sighed. He knew exactly why she said that. "The only place she'll go with me is to those damn Quidditch matches."
"Then why don't you let her play?" Draco shrugged his useless shoulders.
"I didn't want her to get hurt. Those bastards are too physical for her." They both looked at each other and fell silent again.
"What is it with the two of you, Draco? Why is she so damn deferential to you? The Ginny Weasley I remember would have spit in your face first then asked questions later. What the hell happened to her?"
Draco shook his head. "It's a long story, Blaise, and none of your goddamn business. That's between Ginny and me. Period."
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