Warning: Draco's potty mouth dead ahead. Please slow down and turn around if this type of thing offends.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Marcia for the beta.
Chapter 2
His Alcoholically Annihilated Memory
She saw him across the deserted, dimly lit Muggle pub. He was holed up in a corner booth, slouched over a tumbler of some concoction of alcohol. His trademark platinum blond locks were uncharacteristically long, almost covering his eyes. Not that she could see his eyes. They were firmly planted in the direction of his particular toxin. One elegant hand was on his forehead.
The Slytherin had not graced her life in over five years, not since the time he unceremoniously kicked her out, but she had heard about him. His nefarious exploits, from Dumbledore's murder to his constantly shifting allegiances, were well known. It all ended with Voldemort's death three years ago. How he had managed to keep his arse permanently out of Azkaban was a secret known only to Harry and the Wizengamot. When he was acquitted of his war crime charges a year and a half ago, he vanished.
There were a dozen or more rumours about his whereabouts and constant talk of his role in the current Death Eater insurrection, but it was all speculation. Even the most persistent of the Rita Skeeters of the world had not managed to track him down. But here he was slumming in a Muggle pub in downtown London, alone.
Draco had had enough. He shoved the wretched tumbler across the table, stood and began making his way to the door. Shite. Halfway there he stopped, spun around and went back to retrieve his bloody Muggle jacket. The last thing he needed was to replace another goddamn jacket because he was too damn drunk to hold onto it. What a royal pain in his arse.
He grabbed the uncooperative jacket, threw it on and made a try for the door again. This time around he saw her, his former vision of red silk and freckles, sitting alone at a table. His eyes locked in on the sight of her and refused to let go.
Ginny turned away in a panic when she saw the Slytherin leaving his booth. What was he doing? Merlin, he wasn't approaching her table, was he? She placed one hand along the side of her face in an attempt to hide from him.
"Ginny?"
She reluctantly tore her hand from her face and turned slowly around. Unsure of what to expect from the infamous wizard, Ginny slid her chair back until it hit the wall and refused to move any further. Then she stared at him.
Had he not had the sense knocked out of him by a pint or two too many, Draco never would have approached her, but all that alcohol had taken down his normal defences, leaving him drunk and unexpectedly vulnerable. When he saw the fear and repulsion etched in her face, he was taken aback.
"Ginny," he said softly, pulling up a chair next to hers. "No." He reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of her face in an incredibly gentle fashion. "Don't. I would never hurt you."
Ginny placed a hand on his arm, staying his hand from touching her any further. He immediately withdrew his touch and instead took to staring at her.
"Draco, I think you should be going now."
To her surprise, he nodded and reluctantly stood.
"Come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me, Ginny." She shook her head. "Look, I'm too damn drunk to do anything, which I wouldn't even if I wasn't." Before she could stop him, he had her hand firmly in his and was pulling her out of her chair.
"Draco, no. Where do you think you're taking me?" Ginny was already on her feet and stumbling out the door by the time she managed to get this out of her startled mouth.
"To my place or your place or anyplace."
Yes, she could have yanked her hand out of his hand, and she knew she should have yanked it and yanked it hard, but she didn't. Instead, she tagged along behind the Slytherin while he strode down the pavement, around the corner and into the darkened alleyway. Of course it was stupid and ridiculous and downright dangerous, but that didn't stop her. She stood there while he drew her into his arms and swiftly Disapparated them.
Ginny checked all four limbs, as well as the rest of her anatomy, to make sure no vital body parts had been splinched. As drunk as he was, Merlin only knew what could have happened. After reassuring herself that she was indeed intact, Ginny took a look around.
Well, living in pseudo-exile certainly hadn't hurt the snake's lifestyle, she thought, glancing around the exquisitely furnished flat.
"My place," he said with a sweep of his arm.
Ginny walked around the enormous main room, drawn to the three picture windows flanking one wall and overlooking the London skyline. Other than the stacks of books which hugged the walls, there were no personal items of any kind. Even the walls were blank - no pictures, paintings or mirrors. She didn't know what she expected, but this wasn't it.
"Have a seat, Ginny." She turned around, took off her coat and sat down. Draco collapsed on the sofa next to her.
"So this is where you've been living."
"Yes, this is the current prison cell."
"Why do you call it that?"
He turned and looked over at her. "How've you been, Ginny?"
"Why do you call it a prison cell?"
"I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about you."
Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He was staring at her again. "I don't want to talk about me."
"Alright, we won't talk." Draco reached over, pulled her to him and placed his warm, alcohol tinged lips on hers. Of course, she didn't respond to his insistent and gentle movements, not even when he walked a tender trail of biting kisses down the side of her face and onto her neck.
"Draco," she said, attempting to push him away.
"Shhh…" he whispered, taking her into his arms and cradling her hesitant form to his. "We're not talking." Then he laid down on the sofa, taking her with him.
"Draco... "
He put a silencing finger to her lips. "Shhh..." Then he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. No, she didn't struggle. What was the point? Although he was drunk and had no idea of what he was doing, he wasn't particularly malignant or dangerous in his current state. She let him hold her until he fell asleep minutes later before carefully untangling her limbs from his and standing.
In his sleep-induced state, he didn't look all that different from the boy she once knew, peaceful and dreamy with those platinum locks in his eyes. She reached over and gently pushed them out of his face. As she did this, she ran her hand down his cheek. Why was it that this part of his body was so unexpectedly soft when everything else was chiselled hard and solid?
She bent down and kissed his marvellously soft cheek before withdrawing her wand. Then with one last look at her magnificent former wizard sleeping off a drunken stupor, Ginny attempted to Disapparate three times and failed spectacularly.
No, her wand wasn't malfunctioning. His wards were preventing her from leaving. Merlin, who had wards which prevented someone from Disapparating? In, yes, but out? Ginny stared at Draco while trying to decide on the best course of action.
She began making her way around his flat, opening doors and looking around. Five doors later, she found it. Placing a levitating charm on his body, she moved him to his bed. Should she leave him in his current state or take pity on the drunken fool and undress him? In the end, she removed his shoes, his jacket and his jumper. That was as far as she was willing to go, former lover or not.
During the entire process, Draco did not approach consciousness, not even close. Instead, he remained in a sleep fit for the dead. Ginny briefly toyed with the idea of shaking him until he was awake enough to take down his wards but decided he was too drunk to be trusted. She would rather not end the night splinched or otherwise impaled by his partially removed wards. What a mess.
As she turned to leave, something on his bedside table caught her attention. It was a picture frame.
"Lumos."
She walked over and picked it up. A witch with wind-blown rosy cheeks was laughing and smiling and waving. She was a naive young thing and so obviously in love. It was Ginny in a picture taken years ago at Hogwarts with Draco's Slytherin green scarf wrapped around her neck. She sat down on the bed and held the picture in the dazzling light of her wand.
Much later, she stood and walked around Draco's bedroom in search of the other personal things he surrounded himself with. There was nothing else. The only thing that connected this wizard to anyone else in the world was the picture by his bedside.
----- ----- -----
He woke up a little before noon dying again. It was a struggle to open his eyes. He debated the merits of not getting up at all. What difference did it make? It made no goddamn difference at all. So, he lay there attempting to calm the pounding pulsing inside his skull, sloshing what was left of his brain back and forth.
Where the hell was it? He reached for his wand on the bedside table and miraculously produced a summoning charm, beckoning his vial of anti-hangover potion. This was a hangover, was it not? Merlin, he hoped so because if it wasn't, he was royally screwed, and he had no potion for that particular affliction. With one swift gulp, he downed the bitter-tasting liquid and felt it scorch and sear its way down to the pit of his stomach. Then he fell back in bed and closed his eyes. Some minutes later, the pounding and the aching pain blissfully relented. All was quiet on the Slytherin's front lines.
He sat up, sighed and headed for the bathroom. When he emerged, dripping wet with a towel thrown around his waist, he flung open his bedroom door and headed for the kitchen. Seconds later, he was gulping down a large cup of ice water. He was so dehydrated from all the Muggle alcohol it was a wonder he hadn't blown away in the night.
"Draco?"
He startled and swung around. When he saw her, the water going down his throat reversed course and landed in his windpipe. Not only did he start coughing and choking, but he also dropped his cup, which landed with a shattering holler.
"Merlin, Draco, are you alright?" After casting a quick "Reparo", Ginny crossed the kitchen and started pounding on his back.
Draco held out a hand to stop the beating. It took him awhile, but he finally regained control of his breathing and his voice. "Ginny? What are you doing here?"
She casually put the cup back on the kitchen counter. "You brought me here."
"I did?"
"Yes, you did. Last night." She waited while he searched his vacant memory for an inkling of the previous evening.
When he came up predictably empty, he looked at her. "Did I do anything else?"
"Yes, but I think we should continue this conversation after you're dressed." Draco looked down and nodded before brushing past Ginny and into the security of his bedroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit. And more shit. Draco began pilfering his room for clothes as he cursed his alcoholically annihilated memory for being a worthless piece of garbage. Praying that he hadn't kidnapped the witch, he threw on his shirt and began buttoning in haste. He hadn't attempted to seduce her, had he? The miserable wizard pulled on his robes. What if he, heaven forbid, uttered completely inappropriate comments of questionable emotional content? He shoved his boots on and groaned.
Well, she hadn't hexed him on sight, and that was saying something with a witch like Ginny. If he had done anything inappropriate, she would have had her wand out in less than a Thestral's heartbeat. He noted no hex marks in the shower that morning. Of course, he really didn't check for those marks seeing as he had no idea he was at risk for such a thing.
When Draco dragged his sorry arse out of the bedroom, she was sitting on a chair in front of the cold fireplace waiting for him. Her wand, he noted gratefully, was nowhere in sight. He ran an anxious hand over his face before sitting down in the chair opposite hers.
"Well, Ginny, what's the damage?" She smiled and shook her head. He raised an eyebrow at this. "No damage?"
"No, no damage."
Could she hear the relief flooding every magical cell in his body? "Why don't you tell me what happened last night."
"Alright." Ginny recounted the events of the previous evening. Well, almost all the events. She conveniently left out the part where he kissed her and fell asleep with his arms in firm possession of her. She did include levitating him to his room so she could take the sofa. "That's it."
Draco nodded and studied her face. "You should have taken the bed."
She shook her head. "No, it's your bed. Besides, I know how much you hate the early morning sun." She gestured at the mid-day light streaming into every nook and cranny of the room.
He fell silent at this.
"I had no idea you were living in London," she said.
He looked up and stared at her before changing the subject. "Care for some breakfast or lunch?"
"No, thanks. I should be going."
"Of course." Draco stood, withdrew his wand and took down his wards for her.
Ginny lingered a moment or two, waiting for some sign from him. There was none. He made no movement toward her. She sighed, threw her arms around him and kissed his remarkably soft cheek. He did little more than brush her back with his steadying hands.
"It was good to see you again."
"Take care, Ginny."
Ginny took one last look at her former wizard before Disapparating. He stood there, long after she had vanished, staring at the place which no longer held his vision of red silk and freckles. Then he collapsed onto the sofa and hung his head in his hands.
----- ----- -----
He didn't find it until the early morning hours when he was crawling into bed. It was dark. He was exhausted and the cool sheets were welcoming to his overheated body. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling of his miserable prison cell before reaching over and grabbing her picture with one familiar gesture.
That's when he heard something flutter to the floor. He reached for his wand. "Lumos." Hanging off the bed, he picked up the parchment. By the brilliant light of his wand, he read the note written in her handwriting. It contained only her address. Nothing more.
Draco stared at the piece of parchment for several long moments. Then with one simple "Incendio", it was gone. He put back her picture, cast off his light, pulled up the covers and closed his eyes.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. - fallenwitch
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