Author's Notes: A special thank you to Marcia for the wonderful beta. - fallenwitch
Chapter 3
A Civilized Wizard
Maybe he should charm a goddamn rut into the middle of his living room floor. Draco stopped his pacing long enough to run a frustrated hand through his too long platinum locks. Since when had she taken to frequenting Muggle pubs? Or for that matter, since when had she taken to imbibing any alcoholic beverages at all, Muggle or wizard? Wasn't she the one who laughed at his secret stock of Firewhiskey?
The incident with his former witch was one of a number of missteps, miscalculations and decisions gone bad. If the Slytherin could close his eyes and make it all go away, he would. But no physical darkness could wipe out the shadow that had long ago befallen his soul.
When he'd pushed her out of his fast sinking world, he was still a boy, and the Dark Lord was calling him in a way he could not refuse. She was the one and only thing he chose to protect. He did this by giving up his heart's only desire.
Draco groaned and leaned his weary forehead against the wall. He would have slit his own throat if he had known the truth of the fateful and irreversible trade-off he was making, but he didn't know. He had no way of knowing that it was a one-way street with no going back.
When he closed his eyes, there she was, right in the middle of his flat, so close he could have reached out and touched her marvellously exhaling breath. Just touched her. Why hadn't the witch shoved a stake through the centre of his heart and put him out of his goddamn misery while she was at it?
He collapsed into the nearest chair and hung his head in his hands. She was stalking him, goddamn stalking him until he thought he would go mad. Not just mad but truly, fucking insane. No sleeping. No eating. No concentrating. Nothing. All he could see was her. All he could hear was her. All he could taste was her. All he wanted was her. Her. Her. Her.
She wasn't a bloody troll. She knew. She had found the picture and left her miserable address. Why did she go and leave that wretched parchment? He didn't know and didn't want to know. Couldn't she see that? He had purposely kept her as far away from the reality of his everyday life as he could. Why did she have to stick her bloody Gryffindor nose into his pathetic life? Was there no goddamn privacy in all of England?
She should have hexed him into next week rather than letting him take her home to his flat. The witch he remembered would have flattened him at the mere suggestion of such an expedition. Instead, they had sauntered off on the bloody field trip to hell, together. Draco groaned realizing he had jumped on the first lift available heading directly to Hades with no stopping points along the way. He was now lost in a place where living was dying.
Draco stood and stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door as he went. Then he threw his frustrated body onto the bed and stared at the ceiling of his previously miserable, now just plain hellish, prison cell.
----- ----- -----
Cursing himself for his terminal weakness, the fully cloaked and hooded Slytherin stood outside an unassuming flat in Godric's Hollow. It had been three endless months to the day since he had seen her last, and he was damned if he could stop himself from seeing her one more time.
He raised one elegant hand and knocked. Then he exhaled, took a step back and waited. No response. It was early evening, and he was sure the witch who occupied this particular flat was home. He knocked again, this time louder and longer. It wasn't until the third try that he had affirmation of life inside the place.
"Merlin, hang on. I'm coming." The door flew open, but all he saw was the back of her bathrobe walking in the opposite direction. "Why don't you floo like any other civilized wizard would?" she yelled while disappearing down a hallway. Moments later, he heard a door slam closed.
The Slytherin took this as an invitation to come inside. He stepped over her magical threshold and quietly shut the door. Then he closed her Floo, threw up his own considerable wards, and took off his cloak.
It was a modest but tastefully decorated flat. It held her warmth as well as her tendency toward clutter. Scattered owls, stacks of parchment and books covered her small writing desk. Her winter cloak was casually thrown over the back of the sofa.
He rubbed his hands together. It was bloody freezing in her place. Looking around, he spied the cold fireplace.
"Incendio."
That was better. Now, where was that witch? He studied the small hallway. There were only two rooms leading off of it. One was a bathroom. The other had its door closed.
His boots echoed off the wooden floor as he walked down the hall and approached her door. He stopped and knocked lightly.
No response.
He knocked again.
"Go away."
He hesitated. Clearly this wasn't the best time for her but what the hell? If he left now, he wasn't coming back.
He knocked again. When he got no response, he tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. The door swung open at his lightest touch. He peered inside.
It was completely dark. There was no seepage of moonlight through the cracks and crevices of the bedroom. Her nighttime spell was holding firm. Looking over, he saw a tiny bundle in the middle of an enormous bed, swathed in bedcovers. She was facing away from him and her head was underneath her pillow. He could see the faintest shimmer of red peeking out from underneath the feather mound.
"Ginny?" He heard her sigh in frustration.
"How many times do I have to tell you no? Please leave me alone. Merlin." She didn't move as she said this. He glanced around for her wand but couldn't see much in the darkness of her room. As insurance, he held his own in the palm of his right hand. Then he approached her bedside.
"It's been a long time since someone described me as civilized. Would you like me to leave?" First the pillow came off, then she rolled over and looked up. When she saw his unmistakable figure standing before her, she sat up and continued staring at him. He knelt in front of her. "I've come at a bad time, haven't I?" She shook her head. "Are you sure?" She nodded. "I'll wait out here for you." When he left, he closed the door quietly behind him.
Many minutes later, she silently appeared out of the hallway. She was dressed in black robes with her crimson tresses long and loose around her face. He noticed she wore a pair of white socks in lieu of boots. As soon as she neared the room, her wand was out, and she lowered all the lights. It was now extremely dim. He stood.
"I thought you weren't coming," she said softly, taking a seat on the sofa.
"I wasn't." He sat down next to her.
She didn't look at him but took to staring at the brightly burning fireplace across the room. He noticed the wavering splashes of light created amber highlights in her spun silk.
"But you're here," she said, now looking at her intertwining fingers.
"Yes, I'm here."
When she fell silent, he did not interrupt her.
"Are you leaving again? Don't stay if you're leaving again."
He sighed. "Ginny..."
She turned and placed a swift hand to his lips. "Don't." She shook her head and cast her tired eyes on his. "Don't say it. I don't want to hear it." Her hand slowly released itself from his lips.
"Ginny... " It was back again. She held her delicate hand firmly to his lips as she crawled onto the sofa and knelt beside him.
"No, Draco. Shhh…" This time when she slowly removed her hand from his lips, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into her crazy world. Then she buried her face in the nape of his neck and exhaled. That tickling of warmth against his neck sent Draco over the edge.
Groaning, he threw his aching arms around her, pulling her into his lap and flush against him. Then he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the wonder of her marvellous presence. He was instantly transported back to a girl he once knew, to a boy who no longer existed, to a place long since destroyed. It was this lost world that he dreamed about and longed for.
He hung on, refusing to let her go. It was only when she began placing gentle kisses on his neck and throat that he loosened his hold enough to meet her hungry lips with his own. Her hands were in his hair, on his face, his back, then pushing his robes and his shirt aside. His heart nearly exploded.
How could she so effortlessly allow him back in after he had kicked her out of his life and inexplicably stomped on her fragile heart years ago? He could not believe she was meeting his excruciating abandon with her own. She held him and touched him and was about to make unbelievable love to him. How could he let her go again?
"Draco," she murmured, playfully biting the tip of his nose as she knowingly pressed certain portions of her unclothed body against certain portions of his equally unclothed body, "don't keep me waiting." Then she nuzzled into the side of his neck, as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He gathered his wonderfully feisty and demanding witch to him, legs and all, and carried her to the bedroom. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, safe in his arms. He kicked the door closed and placed her on the bed. As he did this, he knocked over something on the floor that began to run over his now bare feet.
She was tugging on his neck, in an attempt to pull him down onto her overly aroused body. He returned her ardent kisses with his own as his eyes locked in on the site of a toppled bottle of Firewhiskey and the empty tumbler beside it. Leaning over, he grabbed the bottle.
"Ginny," he asked quietly between heated kisses, "have you been drinking tonight?"
"Why?"
He held up the bottle of Firewhiskey for her. "I spilt this. I think it was left open."
"Oh, that's alright. It was almost empty anyway." This time when she made a grab for him, he gently stayed her hand before placing the bottle of Firewhiskey on the bedside table.
"How much did you have to drink?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Just a little bit." To emphasize this point, she stuck out her thumb and forefinger with almost no space between the two appendages.
"You're drunk."
She gave him an exasperated look. "Of course, I'm drunk. I never said I wasn't drunk." Then the Slytherin took the inebriated and completely naked witch into his arms and cradled her searing body against his.
"Oh, Ginny-girl," he whispered, holding her close to his breaking heart.
"What's wrong, Draco?"
"Shhh… nothing's wrong." He held her tightly, until he felt her relax against him. Then he pulled down the sheets, crawled inside with her and held her some more.
Some minutes later, he heard her soft, sleep-filled voice. "Don't you want me, Draco?"
"Of course, I want you, Ginny, but not like this."
Ginny nodded before snuggling closer to her wizard. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"You love me, don't you?"
He sighed, "Yes, Ginny, I love you."
Minutes later, she fell asleep in his arms.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. I will be taking an indefinite hiatus from the fandom and writing. However, I will post the remaining rewritten and beta'd chapters of The Slytherin's Witch before departing. - fallenwitch
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