Author's Notes: Thanks to Marcia for the beta, as always. With DH bearing down, I am going to step it up to try and finish off this fic before canon changes forever. Gasp! - fallenwitch
Chapter 7
I Don't Give A Damn, Ginny
What more could he do? He had his Ginny, didn't he? Resisting the urge to scream until his lungs burst open, Draco took to staring at his plate instead.
She glanced at him from across the table, watching as he mutilated his food into unrecognizable fodder, one slow stab at a time. He was in a foul mood and silent. Turning her eyes back to her plate, she took a bite or two, attempting to preserve their fragile veneer of normalcy.
"Draco?"
"Yes?"
"I need dress robes and a pair of shoes."
His head lifted as his eyes locked with hers. "What?"
She sighed and put her fork down. "You told me to ask you if I needed something. I'm going to the St. Mungo's Ball for Zabini Enterprises."
A frown fell across his brow and his eyes crash landed on his plate and stayed there. He nodded. "Of course, Ginny. No problem."
He didn't ask with whom she was going or if she was going with Zabini because he bloody well didn't want to know. He couldn't tolerate knowing. All he needed to know was that she would come home to him.
"I'm going with Blaise again. I couldn't say no. He's my boss." Draco didn't look up or react. He continued eating and kept his mouth closed. "It's not a date, Draco."
Where did his goddamn appetite go? He pushed his plate away and looked at her.
"I don't give a damn, Ginny."
Then he stood and left her there. When he returned minutes later, she was standing and staring out the window, arms wrapped around her waist.
"This is for you." She looked over as he handed her a Gringotts key. Before he could place it in her hands, she was shaking her head and pushing it away. He took her hand, opened it and placed the key in her palm. "No, this is for you. It's not much, but I want you to spend it on whatever you want."
When she tried to give it back, he shook his head and wrapped his arms around her, imploring her, "Don't refuse me, Ginny. I have very little to give you in my current situation. Let me give you this."
He was kissing her neck and touching her and drawing her body to his in a way he had not done in weeks. She threw her arms around him and held on, desperate to feel some warmth from him, to feel that he wasn't slipping away.
Draco poured out his pathetic heart to her. He held her and touched her and made glorious love to her in his quiet, melodic way, lighting her soul on fire and searing his way into her body, open and vulnerable and yearning for him.
When he collapsed in a shuddering heap on her sweet and sticky body, melded to his, she tightened her legs around his waist, locking him in place. Some time later, when he attempted to shift his weight up and off of her, she refused to let go. Draco wrapped one arm around Ginny and rolled them both over on their side. When he tried to look at her, she turned her face away from him and buried it in the crook of his neck.
"Ginny?" Her breath was warm against his neck and her hands tight on his shoulders. "Ginny, no," he whispered as her tears began to roll down his neck and onto his back before soaking into the soft cotton sheets. "What's wrong?" She shook her head and buried it deeper against him. Draco reached down and dragged the bedcovers up over their collected form, wrapping her shivering body in his arms as he stroked her hair, attempting to sooth her unknown worries away.
When she felt Draco enveloping her world with his magnificent presence and whispered words of endearment, when he was beside her holding her world upright and safe, she relaxed and released the lock her legs had around his waist, settling into the comfort of his body nestled against hers. Looking up, she saw the tortured concern radiating from his eyes as he kissed her tears away and wondered why she had ever questioned his attachment to her. Didn't two broken halves constitute a whole?
"Ginny," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers, "I love you. Crazy love you. You know that." She nodded and closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her in the way that he always kissed her. It was enough. It was more than enough for one fragile slip of a witch from Gryffindor who couldn't tolerate another loss, at least not this one.
----- ----- -----
He Apparated his dragging arse home as the sun was rising. His aching body remained upright despite his inability to take one more bloody step. How many insufferable raids could the Dark Lord expect them pull off in one miserable night? Crazy Half-Blood. Then he saw her on the cold, marble floor dressed in nothing but a flimsy nightgown. He knelt down beside her, ran his worried eyes over the scene and wrapped his arms around her slight frame. She opened her eyes and looked up.
"Draco?"
He sighed. "Yes, Mother, it's me." The smell of Firewhisky wafted off her. "Where the hell are your elves?" He was furious. She would catch her death lying on that damn floor.
Shaking her head, she put her hand to his mouth. "Shhh… I sent them away to Bella's for the night. I didn't want to be bothered."
"Let's get you to bed," he said, withdrawing his wand, but she stayed his hand.
"No, Draco, that'll wake your father." He nodded, tucked his wand away and picked her up in his arms. She sighed and rested her head against his chest. "That's better."
He carried her up all three flights of stairs to her bedroom. As soon as were within twenty feet of her room, she began protesting.
"No, put me down. You'll wake up your father," she whispered. Draco sighed and set her unsteady frame down. "Go on, now. Off to bed with you, too." He watched her stumble down the hall, falling face first a dozen steps later. Rushing to her side, he had his arms around her as she picked herself up again.
"Mother, please. Let me help you."
She shook her head. "You're making too much noise. I won't allow you to wake your father. You know how hard he's been working." Ignoring her remarks, Draco kept his arms firmly around the drunken witch and gently opened the door to her bedroom.
When she became agitated, he locked his hands around her face and stared into her beautiful, confused eyes. "Mother, Father's not here tonight, remember? He's out with the other Death Eaters. Don't worry. You won't wake him." He felt her tense, combative body relax.
"That's right. How silly of me. I forgot." Draco helped her into her side of the enormous bed and pulled up the bedcovers. "Thank you, Draco," she said, reaching out her hand for his. He leaned down and put his hand in hers, staring into her sunken eyes. Merlin, she was thin and fading before his terrified eyes.
He kissed her cheek as she ran her hand through his baby soft locks. "Goodnight, Mother." He sat by her bedside, his worried eyes never leaving her, until the slow, steady rhythm of sleep filled her breathing. Minutes later, sleep took him as well, and his body went limp and still, molding itself to the familiar comfort of the chair by her bedside.
Draco blinked at the scorching morning sun streaming into his bedroom, lighting the damn place afire. He turned a bit, pulled his covers up and went back to staring at the ceiling of his torture chamber.
----- ----- -----
"This doesn't fit. It's too big." He sighed and nodded. When he looked down at her feet, she lifted up the robes. "These too." He tapped his fingers on the back of the sofa, thinking, while she stood there holding onto the excess fabric. Her impatient feet began to shift under her robes.
"Come here." She took several awkward steps forward, trying not to step on the hem of the robes. "Stand still." He put his hand around the back of her robes and gathered the extra fabric, holding it tight. "Go on, let go." She let go. It fell flush against her chest. He continued studying it. He looked at it so bloody long that she looked down at it as well.
"Blaise," she said with a frustrated sigh. "Why can't I just wear the last one we tried on? It was fine." He looked down at her fidgeting figure and smiled.
"Because I don't want fine. I want perfect."
"Then take Anna-Marie. She's perfect."
He shook his head and put his nose within an inch of hers. "No, she's not. She's annoying and cloying, and I bloody well can't stand her. I want you."
CRACK!
They both startled and looked up at the sound of the unexpected Apparation into her flat, breaking the lock on their bickering and their eyes. He was standing there in his winter cloak, fine black robes and boots, staring at the pair with fire in his pale grey eyes.
The stunned pair froze.
What the hell was she doing in robes he knew she didn't purchase with Zabini's arm around her, staring at her with his lips inches from hers? Every muscle in his furious body contracted and the fingers holding his wand began to twitch.
"Draco," they both said at once. Then they glanced at each other.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his unblinking eyes focused on Zabini.
"No," they answered in unison. Blaise straightened and moved away from Ginny, but Draco noticed his arm remained glued to her waist.
"We were just trying on dress robes," Ginny said quickly. "We're done now." Without thinking, she hurried forward to Draco, pulling the fabric out of Blaise's unexpecting hand. Her robes went slack. Before he could grab it back, she stepped on the hem of the too long robes causing the entire contraption to fall down around her waist with a jerk.
Draco's eyes went wide. Ginny gasped and looked down. Merlin, everyone looked down at her bare breasts. The robes she was trying on needed a strapless bra, and she didn't have one so she did what every Weasley did. She went without.
Silently cursing, Ginny threw her hands over her breasts and began back stepping as fast as she could, desperately trying to free up enough of the robes to cover up her flushing, half-naked self. Blaise was a step ahead of her. In one spectacular movement, he had her wrapped up in a mound of fabric, his hand holding everything in place with one firm grip.
With her last step, Ginny stumbled on her ill-fitting shoes, falling over and into Blaise, who reflexively threw his arms around her, drawing her flush against him. When he did this, the fabric shifted again. Ginny latched onto Blaise's shoulder, still upright but barely.
Draco drew in a furious breath as every muscle in his already outraged body exploded. He raised his wand, ready to fire a fucking spell at the ridiculous scene.
When Ginny saw Draco raise his wand at them with undisguised rage searing his eyes and fury in his tense body, she panicked. "No, Draco, don't!" she yelled, throwing herself in front of Blaise.
Screw that. He had had enough of their arsing around. Holding his wand firm, Draco reached out with one hand and grabbed Zabini by the collar of his robes, hauling the bastard aside and into the nearest wall, face first. Ginny screamed when he fired the spell straight at her, throwing her arms over her face in a protective gesture, fabric and all.
Nothing happened. Seconds later, she peeked out between the edges of the fabric. Lowering her trembling arms, she saw the robes, now fitting snuggly against her, had been expertly adjusted. Looking up, her astonished eyes met Draco's.
He looked back, his beautiful eyes shrouded with an excruciating mix of sadness and disappointment.
"Draco - " Ginny said, stepping forward to reach out her apologetic hand to him.
Draco shook his head in disgust, took a swift step backward and Disapparated with a sharp crack. He was sick to his stomach and afraid he would puke his Malfoy guts out all over her and her whoring outfit if he stayed a moment longer.
She thought he was a goddamn animal. His Ginny, who knew his heart and soul like no other, thought he was going to attack the bastard and attack her.
Didn't she realize that he had participated in the War because he had no choice? Play by their rules or die by your own. If she believed he was capable of such actions now, imagine what she would think of him if she knew about all of his wartime activities? He collapsed against the cold, hard wall, devastated.
What had he ever done to her that she was so ready to believe the worst about him? All he had ever done was love her. He hung his head and groaned, one step away from gnashing his teeth. Yes, that was the biggest sin of his life - loving her beyond all reason and sanity. It felt like a sin then and still felt like one now.
It was the fallout from their unholy alliance that was killing him - one poisonous kiss at a time. What was wrong with his miserable heart? Why did the wretched thing continue to beat, even now? Was the bloody organ immortal or just the Dark Lord's revenge?
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading. - fallenwitch
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