Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, they all belong to the revered JK Rowling; I just like to play with them a little.
THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
A QUESTION OF SANITY
It had taken him over an hour at home to get cleaned up and escape his mother. When he found out which house elf tattled on him he was going to punish it severely. Clothes might even be threatened if the creature wasn't satisfactorily repentant. Then, to top the morning off, his father had been waiting for him when he returned. Lucius was, evidently, not happy that he'd taken so long, and then Draco had made his mood darken further by informing his father that it was his mother who had held him up for so long, which meant Lucius was sure to hear all about whatever tales he'd told Narcissa.
He leaned back in his chair as he added the final flourish to the short missive he'd prepared for Weasley. Not wanting to chance any gossip, Draco summoned his own owl, rather than having his secretary take care of the correspondence. The majestic bird flew into his office and perched on the corner of his desk. He stroked it absently, while he read over what he'd written.
Miss Weasley,
I require the return of my personal belongings as soon as possible, and I would like to return yours. To protect both of us from detection by others, may I suggest we meet at midday in the same place we ran into each other last week?
Your response by return would be most appreciated.
Regards,
DM
Satisfied that it wasn't too personal, in case it fell into the wrong hands, he attached it to his owl's leg, gave it instructions to await a reply, and then sent it off to the Ministry, because she would most definitely be at work by now.
While he waited, he reached for his in tray for the day's incoming correspondence to see if anything that might require his attention. Five minutes later he realized he was still staring at the top piece of parchment, with nothing on his mind, except Weasley and what he wanted to do to her. Draco scrubbed his face with his hands. All he could think about was her and, just to make matters worse, his stomach felt odd, though he put that down to having not eaten breakfast.
He summoned his secretary and instructed her to get him a cup of strong coffee, along with some food of any description. Perhaps if he could settle his stomach he'd be able to concentrate a little better. When she left the room to follow his orders, he leaned back in his chair again and tried to work out what was wrong with him. Even when he'd previously been unsuccessful in securing a shag from a date, he'd not been left so preoccupied with his original target, and this obsession had been going on for weeks, if he were to be completely honest. This wasn't the way he did things. He was a playboy, for Merlin's sake. Shag them and leave them wanting was his motto. Draco even tried to convince himself that she wasn't that good in bed, but it was a moot point: it was the very reason he had started this pursuit in the first place. She had done things to him that he'd never imagined could be done and made him feel like the world would shatter if she dared to continue, yet at the same time he'd felt like he'd die if she stopped. It was definitely something he wanted to experience again.
His secretary returned and placed the tray he'd ordered on the corner of his desk. He barely muttered a 'thank you', while appearing absorbed in a piece of correspondence, and she left the room. The smell of fresh coffee invaded the office and taunted his nostrils within seconds of the door closing, and Draco greedily gulped at the steaming liquid. Next to the coffee pot was a plate of crumpets dripping with butter. With his stomach now demanding attention, he pushed aside the correspondence and brought the tray to sit before him. After he'd eaten his fill he'd consider doing some work.
"Hungry?" Lucius questioned as he entered Draco's private office without invitation.
"I didn't have breakfast," Draco responded around a mouthful of crumpet.
"Perhaps you could make an effort to take care of your personal requirements before the start of office hours in the future," Lucius suggested acerbically.
"I usually do," Draco retorted. "Was there something you wanted?"
"There was," Lucius drawled evasively.
"Well?"
"I just had a Floo call from your mother."
"Bloody brilliant," Draco mumbled.
"It seems she quite concerned for your welfare."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Tell her I'm fine."
"I did, but she doesn't believe me for some reason."
"What does she want?" Draco asked as his owl flew into his office and perched on the desk.
"Unburden your bird and we'll talk further," Lucius advised.
Every fiber in his body wanted to argue the point. To be told what to do and when to do it irked him in ways his father didn't seem to understand or if he did, he delighted in vexing Draco. Still, he unburdened his owl right away, as it was pointless to argue about such a thing. Besides, he knew who the missive was from, and he was eager for her response. With one wary eye on his father, Draco unfurled the parchment.
Mr. Malfoy,
I regret to inform you that I am unable to meet you where you suggested. Unfortunately, I am rather busy at work today and will be unable to leave the Ministry. If you are desperate for the return of your possessions, which I have with me, I suggest you be at the Visitors' Entrance of the Ministry at midday with some lunch for me, as I will be using what little time I have to get something to eat talking to you. If you are worried about detection you needn't be, because that entrance is rarely used.
Miss Weasley
Draco snarled audibly and screwed up the parchment. A public meeting was not what he wanted. It meant he'd be unable to touch her. At least in Flourish and Blotts the top floor was usually quite deserted, so the chance of detection while doing things of a questionable nature in a public place was negligible.
"Not what you were expecting?" Lucius questioned.
"She's not having lunch today," Draco blurted, his frustration getting the better of him.
"Is that a problem?"
"She has my wand!"
"You left your wand in another's possession?" Lucius asked sternly.
"I didn't have a choice. It was either leave it behind or be seen by someone who wouldn't have understood and who could have told others, who would have killed me," Draco explained gruffly. He was kicking himself for his loss of self-control. After all, there were certain things parents, especially his father, didn't need to know.
"I see," Lucius drawled. "If that is the case, then don't you think it's best not to see this woman again?"
"I need to get my wand back," Draco ground out.
"And after that?"
Draco sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do for his own self preservation, no matter how good she was or how much he wanted her. "I intend to tell her that whatever it is we share is not worth the drama or possible pain."
"Good." Lucius nodded seriously. "Sometimes it is the only choice."
An unintelligible snarl escaped Draco's throat. It wasn't the only choice; it was the safe choice. While that was usually the way he leaned, he simply didn't want to give her up yet, despite knowing how dangerous the pursuit could turn. Still, no woman was worth putting himself in mortal danger. He would tell her when they exchanged possessions at midday. Perhaps the knowledge that his father knew would make the words easier to utter when the time came.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco had lost count of the number of times he'd questioned his own sanity over the past twenty-four hours, but it was happening again. He was standing in a dingy side street, with her broomstick in one hand and her lunch in the other. She seemed to be right about not being detected here, because the surrounding buildings looked almost uninhabited and he would have been confident in that thought, except for the movement of a Muggle leaving one doorway and entering another, which smelled like it could have been a pub. To make matters worse, it was snowing lightly and he had no protection charms to stop his clothes from absorbing the wet, sticky snow. Had he thought ahead, he could have asked his father to cast them for him, but then that would have been admitting weakness; not that it would help him if he got sick, which was becoming a real possibility considering how many times he'd been either wet or freezing in the last twenty-four hours. Of course, if he did succumb to the elements, and ended up with influenza, his mother would then hear all about his exploits and his pain would really begin.
Upon checking his pocket watch Draco noted that she was already five minutes late. He was growing irritable, not that it was an entirely bad thing, because it would help him to tell her that it was over, whatever it was exactly. The Muggle telephone box suddenly started to move. At first he though it was a trick of the light, but then realized that it was really moving and another interior of the telephone box was sliding into position, but this new one held a passenger.
Draco held his breath as she came into view. The combination of the cold and the lack of oxygen to his brain seemed to erase all his thoughts. All he could visualize was slamming her up against the graffiti covered wall and having his way with her, while she howled his name into the wind over and again.
"Malfoy?"
He jumped, startled from his daydream. "Weasley."
"Are you all right?"
"Aside from freezing to death to deliver your lunch, I'm just splendid."
"My lunch for your wand," she pointed out, slipping his wand into his cloak.
"Yes, of course," Draco agreed tightly. He wished she hadn't touched him, because now it felt like all the blood in his body was thundering towards his groin, and he was having a hard time focusing on the purpose of their meeting.
"So what did you bring me?"
His ears had to be betraying him. How could such an innocent question sound so provocative? He knew she was asking about her lunch, but his mind raced down a very wicked path before he could stop it. Draco stepped towards her unconsciously. His dick twitched when her little pink tongue flicked out to drive the dryness from her lips. There was nothing he could do to control himself. With one swift move he'd pinned her against the wall and covered her delectable mouth with his. Her lunch and broomstick fell to the snowy ground, forgotten for the time being.
The fact that her fingers tangled in his hair and held him to her only encouraged him more. It was obvious that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He forced his tongue into her mouth, deepening their union without so much as hinting at requesting permission. All he wanted to do was feel her naked form against his; to feel the hardened peaks of her breasts against his chest, and to graze his tongue over the their tops and make her groan with abandon. Even more, he wanted to release his aching erection and let it slide into her silken depths and afterwards, lay with her in his arms until they'd recovered enough to start again.
Alarm bells should have been sounding in his head at that last thought. Draco never cuddled. It was a rule he held firm with all women, no matter where they factored in his life. The thought, though, only sent his stomach through a series of flip-flops, which made him feel pleasantly warm despite the frosty air surrounding them.
"I can't," she panted, turning her head away from him. "Work… We're so busy."
"Weasley, you can't keep running-"
"I'm not, believe me, but I can't risk losing my job for a quick shag."
"We could make it a long one," Draco suggested as he nibbled her earlobe. "Or we could make it several. I'm not fussy."
She stepped to the side and placed some distance between them. "I have to get back to work."
"When am I going to see you then?" Draco cringed mentally when he heard the whine in his tone. It sounded like he was begging for attention.
"Tonight?"
"My flat," Draco said, his spirits lifting a little. "We won't be disturbed there."
"Good, because if I don't get some satisfaction soon I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands," she whispered into his ear as one of her hands ran suggestively over his throbbing member.
If words were forming in his brain, Draco was totally unaware. Images of what she suggested had invaded his mind, making their surroundings melt away only to be replaced with a delightful vision. He could picture her lying naked on his bed, her legs spread and her hands dancing around her parts as her head lolled back in ecstasy. It was only when she had gone that he realized she'd picked up her broomstick and lunch at some point.
A wicked smirk crept across Draco's features. Tonight he was going to shag her until the sun rose.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
How had he been reduced to this? It was the question that plagued him from time to time, though mostly when he was crammed into some dark, disgusting spot - like now - trying to avoid detection by whomever had stumbled upon them trying to get a moments peace or rather a few minutes snogging done to see where it led if they had time.
They'd tried everything to be alone long enough to shag, but someone or something was against them. Even at his London flat the evening after she'd returned his wand, Pansy had turned up with a broken nail or relationship or something. All he could really remember was there were a lot of tears and Ginny was locked in the bedroom, and he was not getting the shag he desperately craved. When he'd finally convinced Pansy that the end of the world had not come and had sent her on her way, Weasley had long since Disapparated.
In the weeks that followed he'd found himself stuffed into a broom closet at the Ministry, under a table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor where the knee of his pants once again absorbed some mysterious mess, shoved into a broom rack at Quality Quidditch Supplies and a number of other equally disgusting places that had traumatized him to the point of having nightmares. If he didn't know better, he'd swear family and friends, alike, were following them.
If his frustration wasn't enough to deal with, his friends had grown suspicious, and Blaise had even questioned him about his recent lack of social activity. Of course, Draco lied when he told him he was seeing a famous model, who didn't want to end up in the tabloids, and his 'social needs' were being well taken care of - he wished even half of that were true, particularly the latter half. Due to their inability to actually copulate without some form of interruption he'd had to resort to taking care of himself several times or risk exploding at some inopportune moment like some foolish schoolboy who hadn't yet gained control of his urges.
The notion that they were cursed and were never again going to experience the pleasure of one another's flesh had crossed his mind several times. Perhaps it was a long-standing curse? Maybe that was why their families hated each other? Still, it didn't explain why their first night together was so spectacular, nor dampen his enthusiasm to repeat the performance.
Draco chanced a peek at the yard from his position in the chicken coop. When she'd told him she had a family function to attend at The Burrow today he'd almost lost his temper. He had planned to whisk her away to the south of France for a weekend of undisturbed shagging, seeing as they couldn't quite accomplish the task on British soil, but she insisted that she had to attend this family nonsense.
Her apologies had, surprisingly, softened him, and he'd agreed to meet her at her family home, so they might have a chance at escaping at some point for a quick shag. She'd given him directions to the broom shed, but he'd been unable to make it all the way across the yard before someone walked out of the house, and he'd been forced to take refuge with the chickens out of sheer terror. One glance at his Italian dragon hide shoes made him cringe. They were covered with chicken shit and, as far as he could determine, only good for the rubbish now.
Again, he tried to tell himself that she wasn't worth it, but then her laughter floated over on the wind and his stomach did that odd flip-flop thing that made him think he was coming down with something. It seemed to happen often now, and he was baffled as to why, and what the connection to the redhead was exactly. Draco knew he'd wait, no matter long it took her to be through with her family obligations.
However, if they weren't successful in enjoying each other's company this evening he'd have to consider the drastic measures that had been haunting his thoughts. It was an idea that had crept into his mind last week sometime when he was hiding in an enormous cauldron outside the cauldron shop in Diagon Alley when one of her brothers had turned up to harass the owner of the store about the thickness of the bottom of his cauldrons.
Although, promising 'until death do you part' was a little over the top just to secure a shag, in his opinion, and that was his primary objective, at least it was to begin with. The most worrisome part of that particular plan was that it didn't scare him at all. In the past, when his mother had dared to mention his advancing years and her desire to be a grandmother, he been terrified at the thought of committing himself to just one woman. He'd always argued that he was too young and hadn't yet met 'the one'.
The mere idea that she could be 'the one' should have sent him running in the other direction as fast as his legs could carry him, but strangely enough all it did was bring a soft smile to his face and an odd feeling of contentment. Draco had tried to imagine his future without the presence of Weasley, and although he could see himself continuing to notch up a number of women on his bedpost, he drew no satisfaction from the vision. He always felt a little empty after thinking along those lines, so he stopped trying to pretend that he could just toss her out of his life - at least not while he was still chasing that elusive shag. After that, who knew? The answer to that question remained deep inside his conscience, only reminding him softly that he knew the truth and would eventually have to act accordingly.
Were his years as a philanderer coming to an end? Could he possibly restrict himself to the attentions of one woman? The fact that he had in the past weeks, and with not much success on the attention side either, hadn't escaped his attention. Somehow, Weasley had completely blinded him to other women. Draco tried to think of any one thing she'd done or demanded to bring this about, but failed to come up with a single example to prove that this was her fault. He cringed as he realized the blame for his behavior lay solely at his feet. In retrospect, he could identify where he went wrong quite easily, but knowing that now did nothing to erase where his feelings for the woman had traveled.
Of course, this newest plan was a concept that was fraught with problems, like the fact that they'd have to expose themselves to the very people they'd been trying to avoid, and whether he'd survive once her family found out was another matter entirely. His stomach, once again, felt like a swarm of Snitches were flying at a furious pace, as it always did when his thoughts traveled along this road. For the time being he would wait and try to work out what all these odd feelings in his stomach meant. After all, the last thing he needed was to get sick when they finally found themselves alone long enough to shag. Perhaps when he'd had her again these odd feelings would fade and he would be free to continue his playboy lifestyle? Though a nagging feeling deep inside him shed doubt over that idea immediately.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Thanks to Rainpuddle13 for her wonderful beta skills!