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A Night Forgotten by MemoriesFade
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A Night Forgotten

MemoriesFade

This story was written for Incognito3 for the DG Forum fic exchange.

Incognito's Prompt: "What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas"

Basic Outline: Ginny Weasley wakes up next to Draco Malfoy, and has absolutely no recollection of the night before! Entirely Ginny's P.O.V.

Must Haves: Must have, at the very least, a little bit of smut (up to your own discretion). Must have Ginny trying to figure out exactly how she wound up in Malfoy's bed. You can use alcohol or magic as a reason(s) for Ginny's lack of recall. You can also have Draco know exactly why they are in bed together or have him just as clueless and horrified as she. This can be a post-Hogwarts fic or HBP and up. Must have some form of resolution at the end (ie. Ginny remembers the night before).

No-No's: No P.O.V from Draco. Characters cannot be OOC.

Ratings Range: M.

Bonus Points: If you can have someone from HP catch them in the eyes felt as if they were stuck together.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Universe.

A huge thanks to Aerileigh for betaing this for me. I really appreciated it.


Her body ached in places that hadn't ached in ages. Her head pounded, and the shrieking coming from her wand was not helping the situation. Her stomach was undulating, and her throat was as dry as the Sahara desert. All in all, Ginny Weasley had a hangover, the worst kind of hangover. Rather than wanting to wake up and deal with the emergency she was being paged about, she wanted to lie in bed all day and convince her stomach not to reject what little contents rested there. If it weren't for the fact that her wand was emitting a sound that could wake the dead, she would have just rolled over and continued sleeping. Instead, she attempted to open her eyes, only to squeeze them shut again because the sunlight seemed to want to burn her corneas.

"Shut that bloody thing up!"

Ginny's eyes popped open, the sun suddenly not bothering her anymore. A deep masculine voice had just spoken in her room. A closer look at her surroundings made her realize that she wasn't in her room. She squealed, grabbing the sheets around her and hopping off the bed. Her mind went into overdrive as she tried to figure out who was in the bed next to her. Whoever it was had a pillow thrown over his head, but his body was completely exposed-and what a body it was. He wasn't overly muscular, but toned with the build of a Seeker. His lower anatomy was larger than any male she had ever seen. She now knew why her body ached. She had sex with this man. The thought made her stomach stir uncomfortably, and she pulled the sheet more tightly around her naked body.

"Weasley, are you going to shut your fucking wand off?"

Ginny grabbed her wand, effectively shutting off the sound. Only one man had ever managed to say Weasley with such derision. "Malfoy?"

Ginny watched, horrified, as Malfoy removed the pillow from his face. He kept his eyes closed, his left hand running down his hairless chest. He rested his hand on the thin strip of hair on his lower torso before opening his eyes. Ginny felt as if she had been hit by a spotlight. His gray orbs were captivating. She was never in close proximity with him when they went to school together, and the times she was in his vicinity, they would be trading barbs, or worse, hexes. However, though she hated him while they were in school, she couldn't say she never appreciated his fine physique from afar, especially when he wore his Quidditch robes. Nonetheless, she had never looked into his eyes, never seen the gray color that reminded her of a stormy day. She pulled her eyes away from his, her vision involuntarily drawn to his erect member.

"I must have been more sloshed than I thought if I slept with a Weasley," Draco drawled.

Ginny did not reply. Her eyes were fixated on his left hand.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

Ginny ignored him.

"What the fuck are you staring at, Weasley?"

Ginny shakily pointed her hand at his left hand. "You're married? It's bad enough that I slept with a bloody Malfoy-but a married Malfoy?"

"I assure you Weasley, I am not married." Ginny watched as Draco raised his left hand, surprise flitting across his face at the sight of the tacky plastic band around his ring finger. "At least, I was not married before I went out with Blaise last night."

Ginny closed her eyes, taking deep, even breaths. She slowly raised her left hand to eye level. Opening her eyes, she let out a shriek that matched the sound of her wand, which was still going off in the background. The sound around her did not matter though. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the sight of a clear plastic ring on her ring finger. Her breathing became labored as she continued to stare at the band wrapped around her finger. The fact that she and Malfoy had matching rings on their ring fingers did not bode well with her. It made her stomach churn, and her body finally reacted to the copious amounts of alcohol she assumed she'd had the night before. She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.

Draco must have known what was happening because he pointed to the door on the other side of the room. She scurried across the room, careful to keep the sheets in place. She burst into the bathroom, tripping as she ran to the toilet. She sank down onto her knees, her stomach emptying into the porcelain bowl. She rested her cheek against the toilet seat, the cool surface helping to reduce the flaming of her cheeks. She couldn't believe she had sex with Draco Malfoy, not to mention got married to him. Another round of retching ensued as this thought flitted through her head. Marriage to Draco Malfoy really did make her sick to her stomach.

"When you're done giving me a cause to destroy this entire bathroom, perhaps you can tell me what the bloody hell happened last night." Draco entered the bathroom, wrinkling his nose at the sight of her vomiting.

"Thank you for your sympathy, Malfoy." Ginny kept her cheek rested against the toilet, one hand gripping the sheet around her body, the other supporting her body weight.

"Slinky," Draco shouted.

A house elf, dressed in the fanciest pillowcase Ginny had ever seen, appeared in the room. "Master summoned Slinky?"

"Peppermint tea for the lady," Draco said in a derisive tone. Ginny glared at him as he said, "Happy?"

"No. I would be happy if I didn't wake up to you, Malfoy," Ginny spat. Talking brought a fresh wave of nausea. She let out a groan, which proceeded to make her head hurt more. A shrieking sound suddenly filled the bathroom. Ginny winced and looked up at Draco in time to catch her wand. "Yes, that is exactly what I need you to do, break my bloody wand."

"Why didn't you say so? I would have loved to snap the wood in two." Draco rubbed his temples.

Ginny waved her wand, ending the high pitched sound, which meant her superior had paged her yet again. She gathered her strength and managed to bring herself to her feet. Her head still hurt. Her stomach was still cramping. But the sight of the ring on her finger no longer made her feel the need to regurgitate. Instead, she wanted to figure out why there was a ring on her finger. She couldn't fathom what would make her want to sleep with a Malfoy, let alone marry one. Ginny walked past Draco, into his bedroom, and tried to recover her clothes. Her dress, which had been on loan from Hermione for the festival they attended in London, was ripped in two pieces. She blushed as she thought of how hurried they must have been. Knowing that performing magic of any kind in her current condition would not bode well for her, she dropped the pieces on a nearby arm chair. Her panties were in better condition, although, they were so sullied, she didn't want to put them on.

She let out a disgruntled sigh. With more energy than she felt like exerting, she tied the sheet in a knot, making it nearly impossible for the makeshift garment to fall. "I need to make a Floo call."

"Weasley, neither one of us is doing anything until we figure out what happened last night." Draco leaned casually against the wall, alerting Ginny to the fact that he was still very much naked.

"Can't you put some clothes on?" Ginny eyed his member, which was semi-hard. A shudder ran through her body.

Draco smirked. "Is my nakedness bothering you, Weasley?"

"If you must know, it is," Ginny said.

"Good," Draco drawled.

Slinky popped into the room with a cup of tea on a tray. "Here is your peppermint tea, Miss."

"Thank you," Ginny replied. She took the tea, her hands shaking slightly, and sat down in the arm chair her dress rested on. After a few sips of the tea, she began to feel better.

"What can you recollect from last night?" he asked, and Ginny was relieved to see Draco slip on a pair of low slung cashmere pants as he spoke. "The only thing I remember is drinking with Blaise at a club in Muggle London. We were on our way home when we stumbled upon a Muggle festival in Hyde Park. Blaise insisted we check it out, and the last thing I remember is drinking Muggle beer."

"You go to clubs in Muggle London?" Ginny couldn't hide her surprise at his statement. Draco Malfoy hanging out amongst Muggles was akin to her becoming a Death Eater.

"Unlike in the Wizarding world, the people in Muggle London don't stare at me as if I'm going to pull out my wand and kill them on the spot. Not that it should matter to you." Draco's face didn't reveal any emotion, though his eyes were an odd shade of gray and his tone sharp.

Ginny wanted to press him for more information, her curiosity demanding she dig into Draco's inner psyche. But the weight of the ring on her finger reminded her that she had to figure out what happened the night before. Getting into the mind of her arch-nemesis-turned-husband would have to wait. She sipped her tea in an attempt to prolong the time until she had to share. She still needed to gather the details from the previous night. From what Draco said, she knew she and Draco must have met at the festival. Hermione had brought her to the festival in order to open her eyes to the Muggle world, as well as get a night out.

"Hermione took me to the festival you're talking about. Well, we had dinner first," Ginny finally said. "I remember having a few drinks at dinner. When we went to the festival, we were listening to all the different performances. Every stall we went to had alcoholic beverages and we just kept drinking. At least, I kept drinking. I'm not very sure about Hermione."

"Do you remember anything relevant to this ring, Weasley?" Draco cut off her rambling, a look of impatience on his face.

"No." Ginny shook her head, too confused to snap back at him.

"Slinky," Draco hollered.

Slinky popped into the room. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Get me two headache potions," Draco snarled.

"Yes, Master Draco," Slinky said with a bow.

"Malfoy, unless you want Aurors beating down your door, I need to Floo St. Mungo's." Ginny set her teacup down on the mantle of the fireplace, her mind running a mile a minute. While she wanted to do nothing more than find a remedy to her situation, she needed to Floo her superior. The last thing she wanted to do was get fired on top of everything. "They'll need to know I can't come in today."

"Do you plan on doing that in a sheet? Oh, I forgot. You Weasleys have always been too poor to afford clothes," Draco drawled.

"You still haven't managed to grow up, Malfoy. I would think at twenty-six you would be able to come up with new insults," Ginny said calmly. Inside, she wanted to do nothing more than wring his neck. However, she did not feel like going to Azkaban for murder. "I don't know how this slipped your supposedly astute observation, Malfoy. But when you make a Floo call, they only see your head."

"The Floo powder is on top of the mantle," Draco said bluntly before stepping out of the room and into the bathroom.

Ginny tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace, yelling, "Healer Carrington's office, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries." She stuck her head into the fireplace. Within seconds, her head was floating in her superior's office. "Hello?"

"Healer Weasley, is that you?" An elderly woman bustled into view. "Healer Carrington has been going mad because you aren't here."

"What's the case, Celia?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, it's just Mrs. Pollack. She thought she was in labor again. According to Healer Carrington, she is dilating, slowly though," Celia said.

"Carrington should be able to handle that. Tell him that I'm using up my personal day today. I have an emergency to deal with." Ginny crossed her fingers behind her back that Celia wouldn't ask questions. It didn't work.

"Oh, is something wrong in the family?" asked Celia.

"Yes, family emergency," Ginny replied. It wasn't exactly a lie. Since she was married to Draco, he was, technically, family. "I have plenty of personal days stored up. This shouldn't be an issue."

"No worries. I'll deal with Healer Carrington. Take care, dear," Celia said.

Ginny removed her head from the fireplace. The spinning had not helped her pounding headache or nausea. Luckily, Slinky, or perhaps Draco, had set a vial of headache potion next to her tea. The sound of the shower running informed her that he was taking a shower. She downed the potion, sipping her tea in order to keep down the blue liquid. As her headache dissipated, she took her wand and cast a quick Reparo charm on Hermione's dress. A Scourgify was performed on her knickers. With quick speed, she put on the long flowing gown. She looked silly in the navy blue dress with a beaded neckline. The prior night, she had fit in with the Muggles.

Obviously, there hadn't just been Muggles there. Ginny sank down into the armchair and raised her left hand. The fact that she was married to Draco Malfoy was finally sinking in, and she couldn't believe it. Her brothers would go absolutely ballistic. Her father would, more than likely, give her a lecture on why it isn't good to drink, not like she needed that lecture anymore, and her mother would either be completely upset-or she would celebrate the fact that Ginny was finally married. Her mother was beginning to believe that Ginny planned on remaining single for the rest of her life, which wasn't Ginny's intention. But after the final war and things not working out with Harry, Ginny had thrown herself into work. Her flat was a place of rest, not used for social gatherings of any kind. Some nights, she slept at the hospital because it made more sense than going home.

Ginny jumped when the bathroom door swung open. Draco exited, a towel slung around his hips, his hair wet and dripping. Beads of moisture glistened on his perfectly toned torso, and a smirk appeared on his face when he caught her watching him. She touched a hand to her cheeks, which reddened at the sight of him dropping his towel. She had never met anyone who was so unabashed about their body. People seemingly always had insecurities; apparently, Draco did not. She watched him while he got dressed, the way his muscles rippled under his skin. Though she may not like him, she could not deny that his body was that of Adonis, especially when he gave her such a good view of his arse. She snapped out of those thoughts after he was dressed. His attire and composure made her realize she still bore the scent of alcohol, smoke, and sex.

"I have to go home. I need a shower and some fresh clothes," Ginny said.

"We have to sort this out, Weasley. Or should I say Malfoy?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Never call me that."

"I'm only speaking the truth," Draco drawled.

"Speak less of it," Ginny said tersely.

"Meet me back here in fifteen minutes," Draco ordered. He raised his hand to his face. "I am going to contact my lawyer about this and see what we can do."

"I'm not a bloody house elf you can order around, Malfoy." Ginny glared at him, wondering where the hell he got off.

"Unless you would like to permanently be attached to me, which I know you would love because of all the money it entails, I suggest you come back in fifteen minutes," Draco said. "Dress in Muggle clothes."

"You're my personal stylist now?"

"There is a Muggle restaurant I like to go to, Weasley. I usually have my breakfast there on the weekends." Draco raised an eyebrow. "It'll give us the privacy we need."

"More private than your own flat?" asked Ginny.

"My mother, Blaise, and several other people like to stop by on weekends. Usually, people visit friends, Weasley. Or are you unaware of that fact because you have no friends?" questioned Draco.

"At least I don't have to buy my friends, Malfoy. How many of them can you actually say like you?" Ginny tossed Floo powder into the fireplace, yelling out for her flat.

"Black Townhouse, fifteen minutes, Weasley," Draco snapped as she whirled around in the flames.

Ginny landed in the living room of her flat, pissed. When he spoke about her not having friends, it had hit a spot. In truths, she barely possessed friends. Sure, she had Hermione. But Hermione was obligated to be her friend because she was married to Ron. There was Luna, but she was so often away on adventures, trying to find a creature that did not exist, that she couldn't really be counted. Other than her brothers, there was no one else. She didn't hang out on weekends with the people she worked with, even though she was always asked. It wasn't in her nature to be a social person. She was reclusive, partly because of her breakup with Harry.

After her breakup, it was hard for her to rejoin the world. She wasn't known as Healer extraordinaire, Ginny Weasley. People called her Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend. Her patients asked her if she and the boy-who-lived-to-forever-destroy-her-life still spoke. Even after two years, she was still known as the ex of the Chosen One. Sometimes, even her family asked her if she and Harry were friends still. It was annoying to always be faced with questions about Harry Potter. She was not Ginevra Potter. She was Ginevra Weasley. She was her own person. That was part of the reason why things didn't work out with Harry. He wanted a cookie cutter family, the opposite of what he grew up in. He wanted her to raise their children. He wanted her to be her mother. They had ended things. And now, she would be forever known as Harry Potter's former girlfriend.

In a way, she was beginning to understand what Draco was talking about, the obscurity of being in the Muggle world. He had a point. In the Muggle world, he probably wasn't known as the boy who was responsible for her brother being mauled by a werewolf. He wasn't considered the son of a Death Eater, or worst, a Death Eater. He likely was not the most hated man. He probably blended in with the crowd, which was something she desired the most. For years, she always had a title, the youngest of the Weasleys, Harry Potter's girlfriend, and Harry Potter's ex-girlfriend. For once, she wanted to be a face in the crowd. She just wanted to be Ginny Weasley, the unknown.

"I must be going crazy if I'm seeing eye-to-eye with Draco Malfoy." Ginny pressed a hand to her forehead.

The feeling of the plastic ring against her forehead reminded her that she needed to take a shower and get back to the Black Townhouse. Now that she thought about the fact that he called it the Black Townhouse was odd. She brushed these thoughts off as she made her way through her flat, her empty flat. There was very little in her living room. She had a couch, a stand for her wireless, and a carpet. Her bedroom didn't look any better. She had a bed with plain white sheets and covers on it. She had a dresser, which held very little clothing as she didn't need it. All she wore were her Healer's robes and, every once in a while, a pair of denims and a t-shirt.

She moved into her bathroom and turned on her pipes. In minutes, steam filled the room. It was the room she loved the most in her home. The shower was a rain shower. She stepped inside, the water immediately pouring down on her, soaking her. The pressurized droplets of water massaged the kinks out of her shoulders. She banished any thoughts of the blasted ring on her finger out of her mind-Draco Malfoy didn't exist in her shower. She relaxed as she scrubbed her skin clean, watching as the dirt and grime from the night before and the morning dissipated. The smell of sex washed off with the soap running down her body. When she washed in between her legs, she had to wince; she was incredibly sore. There were also fingerprint bruises behind her knees, and she wondered how rough it could have been.

She raised her hips in an attempt to get him to join their bodies. The tip of his erect member touched her clit, sending sparks through her body. Finally, he slid into her, her walls contracting around him. The feeling of him inside of her was unlike any other sexual experience she ever had-he was larger than any of her previous lovers. He was completely still, unmoving, waiting for her to adjust to his size. She didn't want to wait, though. She shifted under him, grinding against his pelvis. When she heard him let out a groan, a smug grin crossed her face. She lifted her hips once more, urging him to move. She wanted to feel him slam into her, use her body, pleasure her. She wanted him to make her pass out from pleasure.

"Please, Draco," she moaned.

Immediately, his body surged into motion. It was as if her words had lit a fire within him. He withdrew his cock from her body, causing her to groan in displeasure. Before she could voice said displeasure, he slid back into her slowly. He was gentle with her. But she didn't want gentle. She wanted a good hard fuck more than anything in the world. She needed him to rock her core. She craved for him to pound into her so hard she flew back into the bed. His slow strokes wouldn't do it for her, not tonight, not at this moment.

"Harder," she growled.

A predatory gleam appeared in his eyes. He removed her legs from his hips, lifting them towards her shoulders. He withdrew his member until just the tip was inside of her. Just as she was about press him to stop teasing her, he slammed into her with such force, the bed shook. She cried out as he continued, his pace never slowing, only increasing. Her hands reached up to her bouncing breasts, her fingers tugging at her dusty pink nipples. Heat coiled in the pit of her stomach, her body screaming for release. She cried out how close she was and was rewarded with his hands gripping her knees as he slammed his pelvis against her over and over.

Ginny leaned back against the shower wall as the flashback implanted itself in her mind. The memory caused her fluids to run down her thighs, and Ginny quickly soaped herself up again. She couldn't believe that was her memory. She had never been like that during sex. Ginny was always the one giving, never the one receiving. While she enjoyed sex, it wasn't something that she usually got too excited for, mostly because her past lovers weren't very good at it. If she had felt like she felt the night before during sex, she would have probably minded her eight month dry spell. But up until that very moment in her shower, she had never craved sex. Now was an entirely different story. She was more aroused than she had ever been in the past.

She washed the remaining soap off her body before exiting the shower and wrapping her hair in a towel. She was unsure of what she should wear to meet with Draco, but she didn't feel the need to obsess over it. She slipped on her plain knickers and a comfortable bra. After some thought, she decided she needed some more tea to calm her nerves. She dried her hair with a quick wave of her wand. Exiting her bedroom, she walked across her living room and into the kitchen, one of her least favorite rooms in her flat. She had spent most of her years helping her mother in the kitchen, slaving over the fire, and she didn't like spending much time in the kitchen anymore.

While she put the kettle on to boil, she thought of the predicament she found herself in. The only recollection she had of the night before was of the beginning of the night and the little snippet she found out during the shower. She was right in thinking that they had sex, very good sex too. The thought made her stomach flip flop, which made her rush over to the cabinet she held all her medicinal potions in. Vials smashed onto the floor as she rifled through the cabinet in search of a birth control potion. Various potions began to mix together on the floor, the water in the kettle boiling over, whilst she tossed vials over her shoulder, searching for a contraceptive. She knew she had at least one left, a strong one. Finally coming across the violet potion, she downed every last drop.

The last thing she wanted was to end up pregnant with Draco Malfoy's baby. It was one thing to be married to him, but to be having his baby? She shuddered at the thought. She looked down at the mess on the floor. A quick Scourgify cleaned the mix of different potions off the floor. She would have to remember to restock her cabinet. Her stomach churned for the millionth time, reminding her that she had planned on taking something for her stomachache, but that she had smashed the last of her healing solutions while searching for the birth control potion. She turned off the stove and grabbed a teacup from a cupboard. She poured hot water into her teacup, her mind once again drifting to her situation.

She tried her best to think back on the night before. But every time she did, she drew a blank and her head hurt. She didn't know what would ever possess her to marry Draco Malfoy. She hadn't interacted with him at all since Hogwarts. She did see him at least twice a week, though, at the hospital. It was the one place in the Wizarding world that he didn't seem to shy away from. Ginny figured it was because of his father's influence at the hospital.

Lucius Malfoy had embarked on a mission to redeem his family name. He donated millions of Galleons to the Ministry for the rebuilding of the Wizarding nation after the war. He also donated to St. Mungo's year after year. He was responsible for several new wards, including the maternity ward, which was where Ginny worked. Narcissa Malfoy, after reuniting with her sister, Andromeda, and her grandnephew, Teddy, had a wizarding orphanage built for the children who lost families during the war. While people were still wary of the Malfoys, they were not greeted with as much disdain. Slowly, they were shedding the stigma that coexisted with their name.

Draco did not get the same treatment his parents did. While Lucius Malfoy had been considered one of the key supporters of Voldemort, Draco Malfoy had been considered the boy responsible for Dumbledore's death. Even after Harry revealed the truth about Dumbledore's death, Draco was still considered responsible for it. Many believed that if he hadn't cornered Dumbledore, wasted Dumbledore's time, the Death Eaters wouldn't have found Dumbledore so easily. Ginny had lived with Harry, and she, like Harry, believed that it wouldn't have made a difference. Dumbledore planned his death like he planned almost everything else in his life. But despite the fact she didn't blame Draco for Dumbledore's death, she didn't necessarily like him either. She still believed him to be a snobby brat.

She looked down at the ring once more. She only hoped that he found a way out of this.

"If I were to be stuck with you in marriage, I certainly wouldn't mind you walking around my home in your current attire." Ginny dropped her teacup at the sound of the deep baritone voice in her kitchen. "I would prefer silk, satin, and lace though."

"What the bloody hell are you doing? You can't just barge into people's flats." Ginny grabbed the closest piece of cloth she saw, a dish towel. It didn't cover much.

"I'm not barging into people's flats, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm coming into my wife's flat." Draco smirked. "There is an immense difference."

"Don't call me that," Ginny snapped. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"It's been twenty five minutes," Draco remarked casually.

Ginny glowered at him. "Go back to your cave, Malfoy. I will meet you there."

"Don't be long, darling. I can only go so long without seeing your freckled face," Draco said sardonically.

Ginny desperately wanted to chuck her teacup at him, but it was already smashed into pieces from when he walked in earlier. She waited until the sound of him Flooing away reached her ears before going back into the bedroom, leaving the mess on the floor. She would clean it up later. In the meantime, she had to go meet her husband. Otherwise, he might come back to bother her once more. As much as she didn't cherish her home, she didn't want him invading her space. A pair of denims, a t-shirt, a thick cable knit cardigan, and a pair of her nicest looking flip flops later, Ginny was stepping into her fireplace, whirling away to Malfoy's townhouse.

She didn't land into his room this time. Instead, she landed in one of the most extravagant entrance halls she had ever seen, not that she had seen very many entrance halls. Nevertheless, she didn't expect the hall of a townhouse to look so majestic. There was also something very different about the lighting. When she looked around, she realized it was because it was Muggle lighting. Hermione had it in her home, electricity. Ginny stared in awe at the small fountain in the middle of the room, the lighting on the extravagant floral shaped chandelier casting favorable light on the water, giving it a rainbow effect. All around her the colors shone. It was beautiful.

"I waited for you to put that on?" Draco spat in disgust.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Did you find out what we can do?"

"We can get the marriage annulled on Monday when the Ministry reopens. Unfortunately, for the weekend, we're stuck together." Draco stood at the bottom of the stairs behind the fountain, a copy of the Daily Prophet stuck under his arm.

"Fine, I'll go home." Ginny readied to turn back to the fireplace.

"Weasley, you're staying here." Draco crossed his arm.

"Why would I do that?" asked Ginny.

Draco approached her, the Daily Prophet outstretched. "You're not a good liar, Weasley. And our marriage is on the front page."

Ginny grabbed the paper from him, her jaw dropping. "How did they find out about this?"

Her mother was going to kill her. There, on the front page of the Daily Prophet, was a picture of her and Draco in front of an altar, an unmoving picture, a Muggle picture. Their hands were entwined and raised, showing off their rings. The large letters spelling out, The End of the Malfoy-Weasley Feud, did not help the matters. She was surprised her family hadn't caught her when she had been at her flat-surprised and thankful. She dropped the offending paper from her hands, smacking a hand to her face. She couldn't believe the predicament she found herself in. She didn't know how a reporter had gotten their hands on a Muggle picture of her and Draco, but she was very interested in finding out. For now, she had to come up with a plan.

"If you go to your flat, you'll be forced to lie. I can bet you're no good at lying." Draco ran a finger down her cheek. "Your every thought reads on your face. Did you know that?"

Ginny slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"You didn't seem to mind last night," Draco whispered, his lips mere inches from her own.

Ginny took a sharp breath. His sudden closeness had her heart racing. She felt herself moving towards him as if an invisible hand was propelling her forward. She wanted to know what his lips felt like. She wanted to know if they were as cold as his exterior. She needed to know if they were as hard as the front he always seemed to put up. And as she inched her head forward, she knew she was about to find out. But Draco simply smirked and stepped back. Ginny wanted to both groan in frustration and slap him for intentionally teasing her. She stepped back, ducking her head to hide the redness on her cheeks. She couldn't believe she actually wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy. She blamed it, not only sleep deprivation, but her hunger and her flashback in the shower.

"You'll end up confirming this little secret of ours, and I will not be taking that chance." The smirk fell from his face and Ginny saw the expression she often saw on Lucius Malfoy's face, determination and superiority. "You will stay here, out of sight."

"I'm not staying here." Ginny felt like stomping her feet.

"You are. You also sound like one of the children you often deliver." Draco idly picked up the Daily Prophet and tossed it into the flames.

Ginny's mouth opened and closed at a rapid pace. "What-how do you know that? You don't even know my name."

"Ginevra," Draco said smugly. "Your friends like to call you Ginny. I don't understand why you would turn your name into something so-plebeian. Perhaps it's because you're afraid to show your true self. You're afraid to show people that you don't want to be just another Weasley. You want to be your own person, yet you hide behind this feeble persona, the one that slips when you're at work, in the privacy of your office. One day, you'll have to show Ginevra. I find her far more intriguing than Ginny."

"You don't know anything about me, Malfoy." She was feeling vulnerable. She didn't understand how he knew all that about her and she knew nothing about him.

"Don't I?" He chuckled. "I pay attention, Ginevra, unlike your family and the people you call friends. I know Ginevra, not Ginny. I know the real you."

Ginny couldn't believe she was standing here, listening to Draco Malfoy speak out loud what she herself had been thinking earlier. She wrapped her arms around herself, wanting comfort. She didn't like the fact that he knew so much about her. The way he stared at her, that look in his eyes, told her he knew exactly how she was feeling at the moment. There was something nagging her. She wished she could remember the night before. Somehow, she felt that it had everything to do with what was happening at this current moment. She dropped her arms to the side, not wanting to seem too vulnerable. She couldn't drop her guard, not in front of him.

"At least I don't hide away in the Muggle world," Ginny said defensively.

"I do what I do for self preservation. I always have. I always will." He began to gaze at her, a predator who had seen its prey. "I'm not hiding here, Ginevra. I'm living here. I choose to live in the Muggle world because I can live here."

"You must hate it, Malfoy. Living here amongst the people you once killed." Ginny smiled victoriously. "How does it feel?"

"Do you want to know how it feels, Weasley?" Draco stepped towards her in a stalking manner. "It feels like our world is all a big sham. I've lived amongst Muggles for seven years now. They can do so much that we cannot do, even with magic. We can do things beyond their wildest imagination, yet we can't live without bloody sticks in our hands."

"So you admit you were wrong in the war?" Ginny didn't know how to respond. She simply said the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"No, I wasn't. Voldemort may not have been better than these people. But I'm better. I fought for myself." He rolled up the sleeve of his cashmere sweater, revealing the mark that haunted her dreams some nights. "I got this mark on my arm to protect myself and my family. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Don't give me that shite. You could have turned to the Order," Ginny said. She finally gained some ground. She had her wits back.

"By the time I knew about the ruddy Order, Weasley. It was too late." Draco put his sleeve back in place. "You don't know what I went through those three years, Weasley. You can't imagine what it was like. You were possessed by the sixteen year old memory of Voldemort. I was punished severely, over and over, by the grown dark lord, the mad man. This weekend will go faster if you get off your high horse and realize this."

Ginny was struck speechless. She followed behind him when he told her he was going to the Muggle restaurant for breakfast and she could join him if she wished, still in shock. She found she couldn't even form coherent sentences when an elderly man came out of one of those Muggle contraptions, cars. It was unlike the Ford Anglia. It was sleek and reeked of money. She simply stepped into the car when the man opened the door for her. It was easy to forget most of what Draco said while driving in the car. The streets of London swept past in a swirl as they zoomed through the different roads, and in a matter of minutes, they stopped outside a small building. There wasn't a name above the simple, tinted glass door that Draco led her to. They stepped inside, and she realized it was a restaurant, a simple restaurant with classy purple and cream d├ęcor.

"Mr. Black, you're running a little late this morning." A hostess greeted them at the door. She eyed Ginny up and down. "And I see you brought a guest."

Before Ginny could stop herself, she blurted out, "I'm his wife."

Draco shot her a questioning look. Ginny just avoided eye contact with him. She didn't know why she had said that. But she had. And she couldn't take it back. All she could do was follow Draco and the hostess as they took their seats. Their table was plunged into silence. Other couples and families dined around them, laughing and having a good time. However, she and Draco both hid behind their menus. She was trying to hide the red staining her cheeks, which seemed to be a permanent thing ever since she had woken up in bed with Draco. It seemed that whatever she did, she said something that embarrassed her. She just wanted the weekend to end so that they could end their marriage.

"Mr. Black, I hear congratulations are in order." A man, who looked to be in his late thirties, came over to the table. "This must be your wife."

Draco nodded. "We don't want to make a big deal out of it, Mr. Jefferies."

"Of course, Mr. Black," Mr. Jefferies said. "I'll have your waiter bring over some tea."

"I hope you know I'll have to stop coming here," Draco drawled.

Ginny didn't know what to say. She mumbled, "Sorry."

"Having feelings for me now, Ginevra?" asked Draco.

"Not a chance," Ginny hissed.

"Here we are, Mr. Black." A waiter set two cups of tea in front of them. "Are you ready to order?"

"I will have the usual," Draco said.

Ginny stared at the menu a little longer. "I'll have vanilla Belgian waffles with a side of peaches."

At the mention peaches, her mind shifted into overdrive.

"Do you know what you remind me of?" His voice was soft as he spoke. She shook her head no. "Peaches, you remind me of peaches."

Ginny shuddered. "I like peaches."

"Me too," Draco murmured.

His tongue darted out, licking her most intimate part. She rocketed off the bed at the feeling. It had been such a longtime since she had been with a man. Her hands threaded through his hair and she pressed his head against her. His reaction was to use his tongue on her in ways she couldn't imagine a tongue being used. He used his teeth, his tongue, and his lips to drive her to the brink. He lapped at her, filling his need for her taste. He sucked at her clit like it was his favorite kind of candy or, rather, fruit. His tongue darted inside her tunnel, imitating what he would soon do with his erect member. His arms were under her knees, lifting them to give him better access, his hands grabbing her breasts. He twisted her nipples, his tongue lashing out at her core. Her orgasm hit her like lightning striking the earth.

"I need water," Ginny gasped. Sweat was forming on her brow as the image of Draco's head between her legs flashed across her mind.

Draco cocked an eyebrow, waving over the waiter. "Two waters."

"Yes, Mr. Black," the waiter said.

"No peaches for me," Ginny said when the waiter came back with two glasses of water. "I'll have the caramelized apples instead."

Draco sipped his water. "Are you feeling alright? You seem flushed."

"Fine," Ginny said shortly.

"Your peaches, Mr. Black," the waiter said. He put a small bowl of peaches with whipped cream down. He then set down a bowl of caramelized apples. "Here are your apples, Mrs. Black."

"Thank you," Ginny mumbled, her eyes riveted to the bowl of peaches.

Draco must have seen her because he said, "I don't share my peaches."

"I don't want one," Ginny said hurriedly.

"Peaches are my favorite fruit. Do you want to know why?" He proceeded to eat the peach in such an erotic way that Ginny squirmed in her seat.

"Not necessarily," Ginny said slightly flustered.

"They're sweet, delicious, and succulent." He leaned forward. "They're soft and perfect when you bite into them. I like to savor my peaches when I eat them. I treat each peach with a delicate touch."

The seam of Ginny's jeans rubbed against her, making Ginny bit her lip to stop from whimpering. "You're doing this on purpose," she bit out, her face flushed.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about," Draco said with a grin. He bit into his peach, licking the juice that threatened to dribble onto his chin.

Ginny bowed her head in embarrassment. "You remember more than you're telling me."

"I remember that you are very flexible and loud." Draco dipped his finger into the whipped cream on his peach, sucking it off. "And you love my head between your legs, although, you said you didn't like anyone else there."

"Why are you so crude?" Ginny dropped her napkin onto the table. "I'm going home. I don't care about the press. They can bloody well find out for all I care."

"There you are, Draco, and with your wife too." A tall blonde woman entered the restaurant, large sunglasses on her face, a sheath dress on her body. "I wondered if you would stop by to tell me you were married."

Draco ordered the waiter to get his mother a chair. "Mother, we are not married."

"Yet, you two are having breakfast with rings on your finger, very tacky rings," Narcissa said, eyeing the rings distastefully. "Are you not going to introduce me to your wife?"

"Ginevra Weasley, meet my mother, Narcissa Malfoy," Draco said dismissively.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny greeted.

"Would one of you like to explain this morning's front page?" Narcissa sat in the chair provided for her.

"Ginevra and I find ourselves in a very unfortunate position. We were married last night, but neither of us can remember it. We plan on dissolving the marriage on Monday morning. I spoke with Richards. He said that plan will work." Draco ate another peach, shooting a smirk at Ginny.

Ginny did her best not to blush or glare at him.

"What a shame. I was hoping you had finally settled down," Narcissa said. "I hope you know the Wizarding World is searching for you."

"Yes, which is why Ms. Weasley has agreed to spend the weekend at the townhouse until the Ministry opens on Monday. She isn't as capable as we are at spinning lies, Mother," Draco said.

"The townhouse is lovely, dear. It will be like a weekend retreat for you," Narcissa exclaimed. "I never knew Muggles could be so inventive. The pool is divine, a beautiful room with beautiful foliage. There is a vast library there as well, if books interest you."

"I actually wasn't planning on staying, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny said. "I think I can avoid the press."

"I suppose I should inform you that your brothers and parents are hunting for you as we speak. It's one of the reasons I came to find Draco. I wouldn't want harm to befall my son." Narcissa turned to Draco. "Stay inside the townhouse, Draco. Tracking charms and locator spells will not work inside."

"I'm not afraid, Mother," Draco spat.

"Of course not, darling," Narcissa said reassuringly. "But I am. So, do this for your mother. In the mean time, I will be 'spinning the lies' as you put it, Draco. It will make it easier for the two of you on Monday morning."

"I was away for the weekend, Mother," Draco said.

Ginny found it unsettling how calm the Malfoys seemed about the situation. If this were her family, they would be yelling, screaming, and making a scene. But Narcissa Malfoy simply sat there prim and proper, her face exuding calmness. In fact, she really did seem disappointed that Ginny and Draco were planning on terminating their marriage after the weekend, which Ginny found odd. The entire situation seemed odd. First, a reporter from the Daily Prophet was at a Muggle festival, along with Draco Malfoy. Second, Draco seemed to know more about their night together than he was letting on. Third, Narcissa Malfoy had shown up at the restaurant they happen to be having breakfast at, effectively ensuring that Ginny would be trapped in Draco's townhouse. Ginny was beginning to believe that there was something going on she didn't know about.

"I love Paris at this time of year." Ginny tuned back into the conversation as Narcissa stood from her seat. "Enjoy your breakfast. It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Weasley. My husband says your passion for children is unparalleled."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Tell Mr. Malfoy I said hello and that I eagerly await our meeting Monday afternoon," Ginny replied. When Narcissa walked away, Ginny caught Draco's curious gaze. "You don't know that I meet with your father every two weeks? I'm shocked. I thought you knew everything about my life."

Draco ignored her comment. "It seems we're both stuck inside this weekend. I'll have to make sure we have enough peaches. Of course, you'll be there."

Ginny bit into her apple with more force than necessary, thinking that Monday couldn't come soon enough.