Of Cold Nights and Coffee Flasks

By: goodbyedraco (FIA)

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.

Summary: Draco came too late for Ginny and knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. (DG – one shot)

Draco glanced at his wrist and cursed softly.

4:35pm - Late, his pocket watch indicated, as it blinked rapidly. With a deep, resigned sigh, he shoved his freezing hands back into the pockets of his coat as he willed his Dragonhide boot-clad feet to trudge down Diagon Alley.

He knew he shouldn’t have procrastinated on buying this particular gift. Now he knew he was sure to face her anger when he came back from his shopping expedition. He remembered the way she had pushed him out of the door that morning as she set him on his way, her freshly-washed red hair magically held up in twists to get her ready for that afternoon. That had been five hours ago, and he was still without a gift for her. To be truthful, he hadn't been really fastidiously looking. His heart just wasn't in it.

“I don’t want any expensive jewelry you keep on giving me or one of those weird paintings you like. I swear I’ll throw them at your face!” She had threatened with a playful smile on her wind-chaffed pink lips, her arms around her waist as she watched him walk to his flashy sports car, trying her best to ward off the early December chill.

He grinned ironically to himself as he walked past Tridium. It was an expensive jewelry shop that was located at the far end of the alley. He remembered his mother favoring the store when they went on one of their shopping trips. With its wide array of platinum set rings, delicate gold filigree necklaces that he knew would look lovely on Ginny’s swanlike neck, and bracelets inlaid with colorful precious and semi-precious gems, he had to resist going inside the store to do exactly what she forbade him not to do.

A particular piece of jewelry caught his eye. It was an exquisite solitaire-cut diamond ring set in platinum, which he guessed was no less than five carats. Surrounding the large gem were pinhead-sized rubies, which made it look like a glittering sun. That would look perfect on her, he thought with a glum sigh.

He thought against buying it. Besides, he thought that the ring she'd be wearing soon would be quite enough.

Flashback

“So you’re saying that if I gave you a diamond tiara, you would throw it back at my face?” he asked lazily early that morning, leaning his back on his midnight blue Aston Martin Vanquish.

“Yes, right smack in the middle of your dashingly good-looking eyes,” she answered wryly.

“I guess that’s all right. Wouldn’t peg you to look good wearing a tiara anyway.”

“Thanks a lot, you berk.”

He grinned at her as he watched her approach him, her fuzzy pink bunny slipper-clad feet skimming the snow, while clutching Bill’s coat to protect her from the chill. If she only knew that he wouldn’t let her go cold. He reached out for her hand and let her lean next to him. “No, seriously. Why can’t I give you jewelry? It’s a special day,” he asked, kissing her temple affectionately, protesting quite a bit about what she said.

Ginny frowned and proceeded to shrug. “I’m not a jewelry kind of girl, Draco. Never been one. Besides, I easily lose jewelry, and I know you like throwing away money just for the hell out of it—“

“But—“

She glared at him, effectively silencing him better than any charm. “I’m serious. I don’t need those, you know that. I’d rather you give me something you find in an old, ratty antique store that reminds you of me and only costs less than two Sickles. Something that suddenly makes you remember a memory you had with me. Heck, even something that just reminds you of me. It’s nicer that way, don’t you think?” she asked gently, reaching out for his eyebrows, which at that moment was wearing a ferocious expression. She gently smoothened them back lightly with her fingertips.

He sighed loudly, protesting with his actions.

“Really, Draco,” she teased, “I know you have to put extra effort in finding this gift for little ol' me, but I’m worth it, yeah?” she chided, nudging his shoulder. “Now get me something really nice, something just for me, not for both of us!”

“All right, all right. Just for you,” he conceded mock-exasperatedly to her before kissing her cheek quickly, climbing into his car to go find the perfect gift.

“Don’t be late!” she hollered as he drove away from the Burrow.

End Flashback

It read five past five in the afternoon on his Muggle watch. He knew he had to hurry up. But he also knew that Ginny was sure to kick his arse if he came without a gift for her. Though he was quite sure she’d forgive him someway if he was late for the party. Maybe after a couple of years and a few 'I'm sorry' pressies, he thought wryly to himself. Besides, she’d be too busy attending to the other guests, so he knew his presence wouldn’t be missed. Or so he hoped.

He pushed the door leading to Flourish and Blotts’ and breathed in the distinct smell of the newly printed books combined with thousand year-old tomes. Ten minutes later, after perusing the sections Ginny frequented when they came here, he exhaled noisily at the mundane selection the bookstore had at the moment. There weren’t any trashy, smutty novels written by that Muggle writer, Judith McNaught, that Ginny loved to read, nor were there any new pastry cookbooks available.

Then again, it was all right. Books as gifts for Ginny? Well, Draco decided, they’re boring. He needed to give her something that would trigger a memory they had together. He figured it wouldn’t be that hard trying to figure out something she'd like since he had known her for the past eight years, not counting the two while there were still in Hogwarts. And yet, there he was, stumped at what to give her.

Perhaps he would have better luck in the Quality Quidditch Supplies Shop. But again, he was disappointed. There weren’t any new brooms she could drool over and practice her Quidditch skills with. He had to discard the idea as well, since her ladyship didn’t want anything expensive.

Only Ginny would be opposed to expensive gifts. Of course, he would have his arse kicked if he simply grabbed a few Montrose Magpies posters with Benjamin Raiken, the star seeker of the team, which Ginny fancied enormously, featured in them. She’d reason out that the gift was too easy for him to buy. Ginny, his beautiful, beautiful minx, was big on effort. Besides he didn’t really want to buy the posters. The Raiken bloke and half of his teammates looked like a bunch of pansy fairies to him.

Running his hand in frustration through his hair, he frowned at the other shop windows after walking out the Quidditch shop. It was hard enough for a guy to find the perfect gift, but for Ginny, well, he knew what he wanted to find. He just hadn't figured it out yet. What he knew was that it had to be something that would tell her how much he loved her but without being mushy.

Ginny despised mush.

"Draco, you know I loathe sentimental music." She grimaced as she furiously jabbed at the buttons of his CD player in his car once. "Don't you have real music here?" she muttered, flipping through his CD case in disgust. “Do you have any idea how much this information is worth in Witch Weekly?” she asked mischievously, waving his copy of Celine Dion in the air.

“Hey! Give it back!” Draco said embarrassedly, snatching the copy back from Ginny, who was laughing hysterically, while trying his best to maneuver the car down the country road they were taking.

"When I get married, I'll have eardrum-piercing, head-banging music. And anybody who requests for anything 'sentimental, mushy love songs' can go dig a hole, and bury their heads!" Draco just smiled and nodded. He was quite prepared to let her do whatever she wanted.

He fiddled with the different aromatic oils and lotions inside Boudoir Silky Scents and grinned evilly as he read the label of an elaborate glass bottle filled with viscous deep crimson liquid in it.

Liquid Lust in a Bottle

DIRECTIONS: Dab liquid on the pressure points on your wrists and neck after shower.

WARNING: Use sparingly!

She’s going to kill me, he thought with a smirk before putting it down. It wasn’t the right time for that gift, he decided. The gift-hunting expedition he was in was quickly making him irate. There was nothing there that was remotely good enough for Ginny. She deserved something that screamed 'GINNY'. In other words, something special and he didn’t know if he can find something like that in Diagon Alley, where he was quite sure Ginny had seen all of. What’s the surprise with something she had already seen?

Fifteen minutes later, Draco was on his way to Muggle London. He knew he was terribly late, but he decided that it would be best to be calm before going to the party. His feet dragged him into one of the millions of Starbucks cafes lining the city to get a cup of coffee. It was only the first week of December, and it was too bloody cold already.

He lounged lazily at one of the plush buff leather sofas in the café, for once not minding the time. He was already late, so what the hell did it matter if he was really late? With his cup of venti double-shot white chocolate caramel macchiato, non-fat milk, no cream, he closed his eyes and remembered the last time he was in a Starbucks café with Ginny a couple of months back.

She openly mocked and labeled his drink ‘girly and fussy’ while she sipped her own plain latte. Draco’s lips curled into a soft smile, recalling her twinkling eyes filled with teasing laughter at his unwavering glare. It had been a long time since he really intimidated that chit.

They had been in one of his late afternoon shopping expeditions after work almost a year ago when she dragged him into the coffee shop. He had picked her up from St. Mungo's after her shift and made her tag along. Shopping seemed to be more fun with her around to tell him if he looked like a complete ponce. They ended up staying in the café for more than three hours talking and laughing as they waited for the sudden blizzard to stop.

“How’s work?”

“Hmmm…It’s all right, I guess,” she answered wearily, unable to mask the slight frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Princess?”

“Nothing’s wrong, and stop calling me 'princess'.”

“Make me.”

“Mature, really mature, Malfoy.”

“Potter’s bothering you again, isn’t he?” he asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence, while each was lost to their own thoughts. He had started to run through old conversations he had with her about the things that bothered her lately. After discarding a number of possibilities, it left but one: Potter.

Ginny looked up at him from her cup, startled at his question before smiling weakly. “Not really bothering me, per se. Just that—well…He’s acting weird around me.”

“Define ‘weird’.”

She blushed before she could even help herself, adverting her eyes from his hawkish gaze. “Would you stop looking at me like that,” she mumbled to him, watching him arch an eyebrow at her obvious discomfiture. She sighed with disgust when she realized that he wasn’t going to relent until she spilled everything. “You really need to get a life other than meddling with my business. You can be really annoying prat with that.”

“Well, princess, I don’t think that’s possible seeing that you are my life,” he answered with a roguish smile, swirling the cup of coffee, not surprised that Ginny rolled her eyes at him yet again. She couldn't seem to accept that he wasn't teasing her whenever he said that. Or maybe she did understand what he meant and simply subconsciously tried not to delve deeper in what he was trying to say.

“It’s just that I know I don’t like him that way anymore. I’m not a bloody eleven years old anymore, swooning and mooning—“

“Qué horror, Weasley! You mooned after Potter?”

“Shut your pie hole, you git,” she muttered, throwing him a pillow, which he caught quite easily. She paused before continuing. “Well, you see…I think he fancies me now.”

Draco stiffened at those words, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure Potter doesn’t bother you.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Ginny said quickly. “It’s okay, really. He’s not ‘bothering’ me too much…”

He stared at her for a long time after that before she cleared her throat, pulling him back to what she had just said.

He could still see her red nose and flushed cheeks back then as she clasped the coffee between her hands, sipping the hot liquid with a groan of contentment. An errant blush formed on her cheeks as she told him that Harry Potter, Scarhead, The-Boy-Who-Lived, his ex-nemesis, fancied her like mad at St. Mungo's. Harry had become a healer just like Ginny.

His little Ginny. His princess.

It was then he realized he loved her. The insistent tug at his heart after that day made it clear to him that his dormant feelings for her were triggered by Potter’s growing affections to his Ginny.

Draco gulped down the last of his girly coffee before placing it down on the low table. He couldn’t believe he had been searching for a gift for her for the past six hours. Speaking of which, he still hadn’t even had lunch. Good thing he was used not to eating much. With his forearms being braced by his knees, he glanced listlessly around the café. He was already late, but it didn’t matter anymore. The dread he felt earlier became a muted ache in his chest. At least he didn’t have to go back to his apartment and change his clothes. Ginny didn’t want the party to be such a formal one, so he guessed his dark gray cashmere turtleneck and black trousers were good enough.

It was already six-thirty, and it was time to get a move on, finally deciding to just get one of each of the products from Boudoir Scents and a few of those gay photos of pansy Ben Raiken back in Diagon Alley since he wasn’t having any luck in London as well.

With one last look at the café, he turned around but was quickly stopped by the sight of the rows of stainless silver coffee flasks on display near the exit. Another vivid memory flashed in his mind.

Flashback

They were about to exit the High Holborn Starbucks café they frequented near St. Mungo's that late summer when she suddenly stopped in front of him, effectively making him bump into her.

“What’s wrong with you, woman?” he asked irately at Ginny, who was standing still.

Ginny glanced back at him, a slight smile on her cherry-tinged lips before looking back at the coffee flask display near the entrance. “I want one,” she said simply.

“A coffee flask? What for?” Draco asked, puzzled at the secret smile she had on.

"Let me think about that for a bit. Hmmm, it's a coffee flask, what else could it be for?" she asked sarcastically.

“Don't sass me, princess," he chided her. "Why don’t you just buy one if you want it?”

She grasped his hand and rolled her eyes before dragging him near the display. “Things like these aren’t bought by someone who's going to use them, Draco,” she said as if he were a five-year old. “They’re given to you. When I get married I often think of my husband preparing me a flask of latte or café mocha and handing it to me before I Floo myself to work. I mean, it’s romantic,” she declared with a silly grin on her face.

It was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes. Ginny could be too much sometimes. “Your screws are loose again, love. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“That’s the point, you prat,” she said with a resigned sigh at the idiocy of her best friend at comprehending the matter at hand. “It’s sweet because he’s making coffee for me. He’s thoughtful enough to prepare me something before I go to work, so I don’t catch chills.”

Draco sighed loudly, not knowing if he should kiss her senseless or well, kiss her senseless. “I’ll make you a deal, Gin, I buy you a flask of your choice, and we get the hell out of here.”

Ginny whirled around to face him before slapping his arm. “You don’t get it, do you? That coffee flask is a dream of mine. I plan to marry the guy who gives me a coffee flask. It’s a simple gift, yet I know why he bought it for me. That’s a thoughtful gift.”

“Fine, marrying you isn’t in my list of future plans, so I think I’ll pass,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose for effect, looping his arm around her shoulder.

“It’s not as if I’m off my heels running after you, Malfoy,” she retorted, swiftly jabbing his side with her elbow and effectively making him wince.

End flashback

Draco sat in his car, staring at the package situated on the passenger seat with a slightly fearful expression. Finally, he let out a pent-up sigh after scribbling a message in the card for Ginny.

He spied the time on the dashboard and saw that it half past seven in the evening. Oh, she was going to kill him all right. He was three and half hours late for the event, to be exact. She wasn’t going to like this at all. Well, at least he was ready.

In less than twenty minutes, burning rubber behind him, he finally reached his destination. Godric's Hollow. Of course, the party was still in full swing. With a heavy heart, he grabbed her gift and climbed out of his car.

“Oh, you, YOU are in such big trouble,” a voice behind him smirked.

“I think I know that all too well, Charlie,” Draco answered sardonically to Ginny’s older brother before shaking his hand in greeting. “Did I miss a lot?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. Of course, the butterflies inside his stomach suddenly morphed into dragons just right after he stepped out of his car.

“Did you-did YOU miss a lot? Oh mate, watch your hide, really,” Charlie advised, guffawing and shaking his head at the same time. He sobered up quickly and looked at the tall, blond man in front of him. There was something about him that Charlie couldn't pinpoint. There was something different. Malfoy's usual self-assured countenance was missing and an uneasy sort of aura permeated around him. “Look, she’s mad beyond belief, Malfoy. She wouldn't even let the entire thing start until you got here, but dad had to put his foot down since the guests had been waiting for almost an hour. You better have a good explanation quick because here she comes,” he said, nudging Draco’s arm before turning on his heels.

Ginny barreled her way to where her best friend was and smacked his head upside down, making him wince in pain. “MERLIN AND AGRIPPA, YOU BETTER GIVE ME A GODDAMN GOOD EXCUSE WHY YOU WEREN’T HERE, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! PARTICULARLY AN EXCUSE THAT CONTAINS THE FUCKING WORDS ‘ST.MUNGO’S’, ‘BLEEDING’, ‘DYING’ OR ‘INJURY’!” Ginny growled at Draco, who was already feeling like shite that had been ran over by rabid hippogriffs quite a dozen times.

“Princess…”

“Don’t you princess me, you asshole!” she shouted at him, hitting his chest repeatedly in less than controlled rage.

“Princess, I’m sorry…I got tied up,” he answered lamely at her flashing eyes, holding her arms while trying to calm her down. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for her to stop. He kissed her forehead in belated greeting.

She balled her fists and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to let her tears spill. “You promised me you'd be here. You never break your promises to me. I can’t believe you stood me up of all days. Why?” she asked hoarsely.

How ironic. I stood her up, he thought achingly before pulling her into a hug. He kissed the crown of her head, breathing in her apple vanilla scent for the last time before clasping her arms. “Hey…Hey, don’t cry, Gin,” he said helplessly as he watched her open her eyes, trying to smile back at him albeit it came out tremulous.

He wiped the one tear that escaped from her chocolate brown eyes with the pad of his thumb. “I think it’s bad luck for the bride to cry on her wedding day,” he said quietly, longing to take her into his arms and rewind the past few hellish months he experienced.

“Well, I wouldn’t be crying if you had the decency to show up! Ron had to stand next to Harry as our best man. You know how much I wanted you to be there,” she cried out balefully at him.

Draco gritted his teeth, trying to steady his breath. The guilt was gnawing inside of his heart, but he knew that if he had been there, if he had been there and saw her say out her vows, he would not be able to handle it. He could face a lot of things, horrific battles, torture, death, even, but this was at the top of the things that he would cower at, his princess getting married to a bloke other than him.

She looked so beautiful with her curls framing her perfectly oval face, her soft brown eyes staring at him accusingly. And heartbroken because of him.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly to her.

“Brides are required to look beautiful,” she sniffed.

But she wasn’t like any other bride. At twenty-four years old, on the fifth of December, 2005, Ginevra Molly Weasley became Harry James Potter’s wife for all eternity, and she looked heartbreakingly wonderful. In a simple white empire cut Grecian slip of a dress, she looked like how Draco imagined her to be when they got married.

“Here, I got you a gift,” Draco said softly, handing her the Starbucks paper bag.

Ginny took the bag and opened it. Her gasp was the only indication to Draco that she remembered that summer conversation they had.

Shards of undiluted pain flashed through her eyes unguardedly as speech evaded her lips as she stared dumbly at the silver coffee flask inside the bag. Realization dawned upon her as the clouds of uncertainty and blocked-off memories spilled back to her. The times Draco had been there for her, the way he became protective with her, the way he loved her completely and unwaveringly. “Draco—what? My coffee flask," she blinked up at him. "Why?"

"Why? You know why, Gin," he answered.

"Oh…Oh, Merlin…I don’t know what to say…”

He smiled at that. Ginny not being able to say anything was a monumental event. “No need to say anything. Just—just be happy for me, yeah?” He touched her cheek and watched her lean slightly to his touch, gravitating towards him.

She nodded numbly, her eyes not leaving his face. "Draco, I'm sorry. I'm—oh God."

"Don't. Don't say it, please." Draco’s heart shattered for the second time in his life as he watched her stare painfully at the contents of the bag once more, the disbelief still in her eyes. The first event being that lazy spring afternoon of that year when she came up to him with a beaming smile and blurted out, “I’m getting married!”

Just then, Harry sauntered to where they were with a content smile on his face. He greeted Draco with a firm handshake.

“You’re late. Ron had to step in for you,” Harry started. “Ginny kept on calling you on your cell phone, threatening bodily harm if you came late.”

Draco merely nodded, looking pointedly at Ginny, who quickly blushed. He made sure to leave his phone in his car's glove compartment that afternoon. “I got held up in London. Some figures didn't add up in the company," he lied. "Things that are quite important, you see.”

“More important than Ginny’s own wedding?”

If she’s getting married to you, then YES! Draco thought, fury starting to boil inside his chest. But just then, his eyes caught the pleading look in Ginny’s pain-torn eyes before expelling his breath heavily. “Congratulations, Potter,” Draco said finally, keeping all the bitterness out of his voice for the sake of the girl Harry’s arms were currently wrapped around.

“Thank you, Malfoy,” Harry replied as such with a slight nod.

“Look, I’m sorry I can’t stay, I have to finish a lot of work. I only came to drop off your gift,” Draco began, clearly uneasy with the situation. He looked into Harry’s green eyes and mustered all the strength he could for his voice not to break to say his next words. “Look, Potter, promise me you’ll take care of Ginny,” he said. Take care of her for me, he added silently while trying to control his voice while his heart throbbed agonizingly in his chest.

“I will,” Harry answered with a quick nod, finally understanding then what the other man meant as Ginny quivered beside him.

“Goodbye, Ginny, Harry.” And he turned around back to his car before finally disappearing at the bend of the road, more than a hundred kilometers per hour in his car.

Hours later, Ginny woke up in the middle of the night. With a quick glance at her peacefully sleeping husband, she slipped out of bed and padded out to the balcony of their honeymoon suite before fishing a small card out of the pocket of her robe.

Smile and drink your coffee for me Princess.

I’m sorry I came for you too late.

-D.

You came too late, she thought numbly, staring at the starting light of the dawn that lay ahead of her, a spatter of tears dragging across his nickname for her.