Taste

You get to know the feeling of someone's skin through time. The rough parts on the elbows and the soft skin on the inner thigh are all like stops on a map. He used to let his fingertips graze softly against her cheekbones before he would kiss her. Over the years, she noticed as the calluses developed on hands that were unused to work. The touch itself never changed, still the same light brush that went up to her hair and then followed by his lips on hers, but the skin did. Sometimes she cried when he left. Sometimes she wondered if he did too.

His skin never bothered him. Too much work took away the flawlessness of his hands. His wand had been broken years ago and he had never bothered to get another one. It had been offered to him once, a proposal of friendship from someone he despised. He had insulted him rather than accept his kindness. Whenever he thought of magic, a cold sweat covered his skin. He preferred tasks that required only his own limbs. Muggle work, his father would have called it. He called it a reprieve.

******

He had been living at Number 12, Grimmauld place for only a few months when Potter came back for an overnight visit. He had been in the house before, but never for more than a couple of hours. Draco would have to sit and watch as he walked around importantly, talking to Lupin, Snape, or whoever else he had come to see that day.

Draco would watch as he ignored Ginny.

At first he had thought that all the cuddling and snogging he had seen them do in Hogwarts had been an act. The way they acted around each other now was nothing of the enamored couple he remembered. Then they had reminded him of himself and Pansy before he decided he was too important for the likes of her.

Now it reminded him even more, since Potter would ignore Ginny as she would stare after him longingly. Her eyes would follow him across the room and out the door as he left. She never followed him herself. As far as Draco knew she took a certain care to ensure that they were never alone for his brief visits home, but this night it appeared that she would not have a choice. Ginny's room was two doors down from Draco’s, and while walking down the hall that night he had seen Potter walking through her door. The next morning Ginny's eyes were red and Potter didn't touch his breakfast. He left soon after. Draco didn't feel like watching another round of Potter ignoring her when Draco had been trying for months to get Ginny to even notice that he lived in the same house as her.

******

Their house was small. She never complained that he hadn't made a respectable witch out of her and married her. She never nagged that he was never home to help out. She didn't even complain when he did cook and he burned the food. She never even commented that when they slept it was with his back to her.

The marriage would never happen because Draco couldn't afford the ring or the ceremony. His father's money was still in Gringotts, never touched. If Draco had his way it would stay there to rust.

He was never home because he worked from sunrise to sunset most days. Any job that would take him in and pay him under the table he would do. He didn't have a way to become a member of Muggle society so he just skirted along its edges.

The food would always burn because he couldn't cook. His mother and Dobby had taught him cooking charms when he was younger but he refused to use them. He hated everything magic because it was what his family stood for, and he refused to be apart of it anymore.

He slept with his back to her because the most protected he had ever felt in his life was when Ginny closed the space between his body and hers by wrapping her arms around his chest. He wouldn’t sleep until she kissed the small hairs on the back of his neck twice.

******

It'd been a week since their fight. At least that's what Draco kept telling himself – that they fought. She barely ate. He peeled the skin off of red apples for her and she nodded a thank you before taking a small bite and throwing it away. She used to love apples. He would sit in the kitchen pretending to read and watch out the corners of his eyes as she peeled the apple with a small knife all in one twist. It took him dozens of apples before he got it perfect enough to give to her. For the first one he got a small smile. The second barely a lift of the corners of her lips. For the others he only received nods.

On the eight day he tried an orange. She looked at him strangely and smiled again. Draco felt his stomach jump into his throat.

She noticed him.

******

When he opened the door that night Ginny threw her arms around him. For a moment, Draco remembered what it had been like when things for them were happy and they didn't have to contend with anyone else, just each other. They had fought. They had passion. Now there was just a lull where his days fell into a pattern of sweat and sunburns and hers were healing spells and sleep draughts for patients.

She was kissing him and Draco was only too happy to kiss her back. His arms ached, his legs were sore, and he was severely under slept. She seemed almost giddy. Almost sixteen again.

"What's this all about?"

Ginny smirked.

Draco recognized the look as one of his own.

"I got a promotion. No more long hours, no more midnight calls. In office appointments only. You can stop working so much. We can go on vacation. We can even-"

Draco hurried up and kissed her again. They had gone so long without ever discussing their (or, more honestly, her) hopes for the future that he didn't want to start now.

He was terrified of not being able to fulfill them.

Later, after the kissing and the sex, Draco wasn't able to stop her from voicing her desires for them. She even said the word 'need' once, although he didn't think she noticed. With every comment, phrase, and smile that possessed her mouth Draco felt his world crashing. He was inadequate to meet her needs.

He told her that right as the word “family” slipped past her lips.

******

She wouldn't get angry. She wouldn't laugh. Draco wasn't sure if she could feel anymore. She ate a bit, but more than anything she just lounged around in the study chair with a book in her lap. The Ginny he remembered from school was active, alive, and brash. This one was morose and lethargic. That day he brought her a mango.

"Something different today," she said as she reached for it.

Before he could think to stop himself Draco said the only thing that came to mind.

"Very."

He bent down and kissed her. Not a kiss really; it was more like a slight brush of his lips on hers. He didn't close his eyes and neither did she. Nor did he pull away when it was over. His position was uncomfortable but the fact that he could tell she was breathing quicker due to the proximity of their faces made him dizzy.

"What was that?"

Draco smirked. "Something different."

And she laughed. Draco would have been more startled by the laugh but he was too shocked by Ginny kissing him to process it. It was a kiss, really.

******

She hadn't spoken to him in days. When he came home she slammed pots in the kitchen. She used magic more frequently in the house when he was around, even to open the door when he came home. When they sat down for dinner she had his glass self-refilling and his plate disappeared as soon as it was empty. She even dressed for bed with magic and tucked them in by flicking her wand.

She didn't wrap her arms around him anymore and he couldn't sleep at all for other things she had stopped doing.

******

She laughed at breakfast with her mum and when her brothers came to visit. When no one was paying attention to them they would simply stare at each other. When no one was around, Draco didn't think her body could get any closer to his unless there was a lack of clothing involved. When he would think about Ginny lacking clothing he would usually distance her mouth from his. That's when they would talk.

Occasionally he would find himself laughing over stories of her and the Weasel. Every time he referred to Ron that way Ginny would jab him in the arm. Eventually he started to call her brother by his name. They seemed to know which topics were not to be brought up. He never told her about his childhood and she never asked. He never brought up Potter and she never offered.

Sometimes she would knock on his door at night. They would sneak downstairs to the kitchen and make some hot cocoa or steal some Fire Whiskey from the back of the pantry where it was supposed to be hidden. On these nights their snogging sessions were much more intense and uninhibited. Many times he would have to bring Ginny to her room and go to his just to have distance. With a room between them he still couldn't stop thinking about Ginny and a lack of clothing.

The night came where she didn't motion for him to leave his room but instead entered his. Every detail of that night burned into his mind as it happened. She kissed him before he could protest. They fell on his bed because she pulled him down. When he slid into her it was because she pulled at his hips and angled hers. Every time she looked as if she was about to say something Draco tried something to make her moan more or to distract her. It was the first time he was terrified of what she might say. Of whose name might come out of her mouth. He knew he was not her first choice but he would be damned if he was a consolation.

When she finally did make an understandable word it wasn't just a word, but a name said so soft he wouldn't have heard it except at the moment she said it his face was buried in the curve of her neck and her mouth was at his ear.

"Draco."

For some reason five years later and he was still terrified of what Ginny wanted. Even if it was him.

******

When he came home her things was gone. Basically everything in their small home was hers, but there were some things that were just hers. They were gone. Pictures, clothes, a blanket knitted by her mum, everything down to the stray hair pins that had fallen by the sink long ago… all nowhere to be found. He waited three days before going to work again. Then he waited for two weeks. Then he started to rip the place apart. In the drawer next to her side of the bed was a parchment with her messy scribble.

I want to move forward but you just don't move at all. Back would be fine now. Anything but this stagnation.
~Ginny

He crumbled the note because it meant that she wasn't coming back. He dropped it to the floor because he couldn't touch the truth, that he was to blame. When he looked at it again, the paper burst into flames.

The next morning Draco walked into Malfoy Manor for the first time in almost six years. The layers of dust were just like freshly fallen snow, except snow never made him sneeze. He had been to the Burrow earlier and no one knew where she was. Her job had recieved her Owl of resignation the night before. He only had one option open to him.

His clothes were no where even close to fitting him; after all, he had grown in the past five years. It was his father's robes that fell just right across the width of his shoulders and the right length at his feet. A cold chill passed over him when he examined his reflection in the mirror.

"Dearie, you're his spitting image," the mirror said in a cracked voice. The thing probably hadn't spoken in years.

Draco cut his knuckles when he broke it.

He walked into Gringotts with the authority of a man who knew he was important. Heads turned and Draco ignored them all. He presented his key, was shown his vault, and with drew money - galleons of it. There were whispers behind him as he left. As far as the Wizarding world knew Draco Malfoy had completely disappeared.

Detectives were paid discreetly and house elves were hired to clean up the manor. Ginny would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't pay them because Hermione would never let her hear the end of it either. After a few months of nothing, Draco started to overtake the business he had left in the hands of distant cousins and began to branch it out internationally. He visited every place as it was set up and searched everywhere for her.

Years can pass without any realization.

He checked all the hospitals in the area, all the Mediwitch offices and clinics. No one knew of a young Mediwitch with red hair, cinnamon eyes and a taste for apples. His life was consumed with searching for her. He would forget appointments and meetings. People would cover for his absence and no one cared. They would all reschedule for a Malfoy.

He didn't come back to England for three years. He cut his knuckles on another mirror his first day back in Malfoy Manor. It wasn't that the mirror had said anything. Draco though he had seen his father.

It was his thirtieth birthday before he heard word of her. A small island off the coast of Florida in America where there was a rather large Magic population had closed a deal with Malfoy Inc. as their main distributor of healing potions and other Mediwitch needs. As per the contract that was signed with the hospital's head every employee of the facility was interviewed "so that Malfoy Inc. can become personal with all our clients". There was one witch who seemed to remember a year or so ago after a massive storm a small woman with long red hair and talented hands had come in to help the injured wizards and Muggles alike.

Draco apparated right out of his office to the hospital. They immediately provided him with her name and address - Mary Winters, 2221 Shore Drive - and led him to a Floo point in the building. Putting his head in the fire Draco called out. A woman's voice answered back.

"Come on through. I'll be out in a minute."

Her home was small and plain. There were no pictures on the walls, no flowers or books lying helter skelter. Her home was what a hotel home would look like. Devoid of personality. Draco began to dust the ash off his robes when a petite brunette witch entered the room in a white t-shirt and faded jeans. There was nothing extraordinary about her. Draco wouldn't have noticed her in a group of people. He stuck out his hand to introduce himself.

"Hello. I'm Draco Malfoy. Recently you were interviewed due to a merger between my company and your job. You said some thing that I found of interest. Can I ask you a few questions?"

The woman looked a little nervous. She began to twist her should length hair between her fingers like she was curling it. "What would you like to know? I've had five years experience at this hospital and previous to this I was a home nurse for a family in Washington . They were Muggles, but they paid well and I was able to take care of their aging Grandmother and relieve a lot of her pain. It was a simple job."

"Well, it's not so much your back ground as much as it's someone you may have met. Do you remember the red haired witch how came to help you out a year ago?"

Mary smiled, but only slightly. "Yeah, she said her name was Ginny."

Draco felt as his a sledgehammer had collided with his chest.

"Are you alright sir? You look rather pale all of a sudden."

He could hear the genuine concern in her voice. Her face showed it even more. Draco noticed that her eyes were really quite pretty. A soft brown.

"Fine. I just used to know her, I think. Could you tell me a bit more?"

Mary sighed, crossed her arms and sat on her sofa. "She said she was here for a visit. She didn't talk much, she just worked. Did what was needed without being told. Then she was gone in three days. Like she was never there. Nothing besides that."

"Ms. Winters, my employees interviewed all your coworkers. You're the only one who even remembers her."

She shrugged. "It was busy. No one really questioned much where help came from, they just accepted it."

Draco was perplexed. "Then why do you remember her?"

Mary's eyes met his and she glared at him strait on. "Why do you need to know so bad?"

The couch and love seat were burgundy. Wood, light oak.

"There are things about life that I don't think others always realize. One is that standing out doesn't always get you somewhere great," she told him.

There was a black cordless telephone hanging on the wall next to the kitchen.

"Another is that hiding from problems and pushing away life doesn't make anything go away."

The carpet was beige. Mary wore no shoes.

"And the last is that sometimes people are happy with just being mundane,” she continued. “That not everyone needs the words of love, flowers, or even a person that sleeps pressed to their back every night. They need to know that life is moving the way it should. Forward. Towards something more than just-"

"Stagnation."

And her eyes weren't a soft brown. They were cinnamon colored.

"Exactly. I think she knew that. That's why I noticed her. Are we done here Mr. Malfoy? I'm due to have lunch with some friends and, although I understand apparently this meeting was important to your company, I am late."

Draco shook his head to clear the haze that had just covered his mind.

"Just one more thing. Are you happy here?"

Mary surveyed her surroundings. The tidiness and lack of personality in her home. Then she smiled. "Yes, I am. I know where I'm at, not where I'm not. It's a more secure feeling."

Draco nodded to her.

"Thank you. I won't keep you anymore. Good day Ms. Winters."

As the last of him was pulled threw the Floo he heard her say goodbye.

******

The days after the first time they made love were the happiest of Ginny's life.

Then everything came crashing down. Ron was taken by the Death Eaters, Draco's father included in them, and Lord Voldemort wanted Harry in exchange. Ginny wanted to go and was adamant that she would not take no for an answer.

"He's my brother Draco. I don't care what my family's concerns are or how much you're worried. I'm going. You can come or you can stay. There are things more important than us right now."

He argued with her and told her that nothing was more important. Later he got his wand and snuck out with her. She was going and he would be damned if it was without him.

That night the inevitable happened. Harry killed Lord Voldemort. Death Eaters killed Order members and vice versa. Lucius Malfoy died at the aim or Remus Lupin.

Draco broke his wand when he watched as Professor Snape deflected an Avada Kedavra that was meant for him. It was his mother who sent it.

Everyone rejoiced.

Ron was safe, Harry saved the world. That night when Harry went into Ginny's room it was he who left with red eyes.

Ginny ran into Draco's arms and stayed there for years, until she couldn't take the waiting anymore. She waited for him to wake up and see her. At night she cuddled up next to him and wished that he could see them the way she did.

They were dying and she was dying with him.

Sometimes she thought about Harry. Not about wanting to be with him (because she didn't) but what she had missed out on. Life. It didn't need to be flashy or exciting, but she need more than staying still. The dying, the rotting, becoming dormant. When Harry had asked her why Draco, she told him it was because he showed her something different. He told her it was madness.

"When love is not madness, it is not love." Then she laughed.

"So, you're in love?" Harry's eyes had been huge and he looked like he was about to cry.

She knew it must hurt him, but for some reason she couldn't stop smiling. "Yeah, I am."

The night they had fought and he told her she needed to look elsewhere for her future because it couldn't be with him she had tried to hurt him with words. She told him that one day he would wake up and realize that she wasn't waiting for him anymore, that she was elsewhere where he couldn't get to her.

Thirteen years later as she Scourgify-ed the soot off her beige carpet next to her burgundy couch where Draco had stood she though about how true that statement had turned out to be for not only for Harry at that time but later for Draco.

For some reason her lunch that afternoon tasted like sand from the beach.

A/N: Thanks to my lovely beta Jessakitty who did this fairly quick. Writen for livejournal’s dgficexchange I was finally allowed to claim it so I thought I would archive it here.