The door slammed downstairs, and twin yells drifted up. “Ginny, we’re home!”

“Come down, I got those dress robes for you. Try them on!”

Draco Malfoy heard those yells and froze, halfway through the motion of licking the last bit of chocolate sauce off Ginny’s stomach.

The pair exchanged looks of dread, paralyzed in horror as they listened to the tell tale noises of things being moved and put away two floors below. Arthur and Molly were clearly packing away the items they’d bought.

Though tall, the Burrow had thin walls and noises carried easily – exactly why this sort of activity had never before been attempted.

“I thought you said they were going to be gone all day!” Draco hissed, breaking the silence, still hovering over his girlfriend’s motionless form.

“They were supposed to be!” she whispered back angrily, “They must be early. I know I said I wanted to tell them, but not like this; do I look crazy to you?”

Draco sat up, kneeling over her, and eyed her up and down with a smirk and a glint in his eye. “Well, actually-”

Ginny rolled her eyes and pushed herself up slightly too. “Keep your voice down, idiot! And shut up, this really isn’t the time.”

Draco opened his mouth to argue back but, as if to illustrate Ginny’s point, Molly called up the stairs again, “Well, if you won’t come down and get it, I’ll just bring it up to you! Arthur, it’s in your bag, yes? Oh, this is going to be lovely on you, Ginny.”

The horrifying reality of their situation hit both young lovers at the same instant and as one, they surged up. However they were not one and in doing so, Ginny knocked Draco off the bed, the boy landing on the floor with a loud thump.

“Shit – get dressed, get dressed!” Ginny insisted. They complied, Draco pausing only for an instant to roll his eyes at her stating the obvious necessity. They proceeded to do so as quickly as possible, though the whole effort was haphazard and interrupted by attempts to clean up other evidence, such as the few stray candles which Draco quickly blew out and stuffed under the bed.

Still, urgency lent them speed and the two were dressed in plenty of time to pause, breathing heavily, and shoot each-other relieved grins; coming up with a story would be much easier now that they both had clothes on.

However, upon their eyes meeting Ginny's grin transformed into a gape of horror. She pointed wordlessly at Draco's face, and he spun to examine it in the mirror. They had forgotten what exactly they had been doing before being interrupted; within the larger category of “sexual acts between Draco and Ginny that would get Draco castrated if discovered”, this specific tryst fell into the smaller, but much-enjoyed subdivision of “sexual acts that involved melted chocolate and licking”. Said melted chocolate often became smeared across the face of the licker. In other words, chocolate sauce was smeared all over Draco's lips, chin, and cheeks, and no amount of rubbing seemed to take it off.

In other, more concise words, they were screwed.

Ginny's shoulders slumped and her face crumpled as she gave herself up to the inevitability of discovery. Her parents would kill her, she was sure, and then everyone else would gang up to kill Draco. Though he had been accepted as a sort of family friend since his defection from the Death Eaters, he was still regarded with suspicion by several people – one of his reasons for not wanting them to reveal themselves as a couple. Though she had always been in favour of the action, Ginny was beginning to wonder if Draco was right - though of course it was too late. They had no choice now; they would just have to make the best of it, and cast some strong Shield charms...

Ginny's depressing train of thought was cut off as a maniacally grinning Draco snatched up the squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup and approached her. She eyed him nervously, but he merely grinned wider and whispered, "Weasley, I am a genius," before squirting.

The chocolate spread in Ginny's hand, but it didn't have more than a moment to collect there before Draco grasped her wrist and slammed the appendage up against his mouth. Chocolate oozed out between her fingers, spreading even further across his face than before, and when he removed her hand – only to use it to press a sticky, dark handprint against his shirt – he looked ridiculous.

Ginny was still three steps behind as Draco yelled, “Weasley, what the hell –” and stumbled backwards through her door, right into her parents. She merely stood there nonplussed, chocolate-covered hand outstretched as a furious Draco began to rant at her.

“Bloody hell, Weaselette! How was I supposed to know you wanted me to wait in the kitchen? You said the recipe was up here; I was just following you to get it! There was no reason for - for –” Draco wiped at his face, looking disgusted at the chocolate that clung to his fingers as a result, “this.”

Ginny stared in confusion, along with her mother and father. Draco, now standing slightly behind them, widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows and finally, finally she caught up, schooling her features into an expression of rage. “Er, well, that's no excuse! This is my private room! How was I supposed to react to turning around and seeing you in it? Don't you know what the word 'private' means? And, besides, it was just the sauce that was up here, not the recipe!”

“Yes, I think I got that,” Draco scowled, now dabbing pointedly at his silk shirt. “I'm going to have to toss this out now, thanks a bunch.” He sounded so affronted by the mere possibility when in fact he had made the stain, that Ginny's lips quirked up into a smile; she couldn't help it. Draco, noticing her smile, only glared harder though his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Ah, hell - just forget it. I don't know why I didn't just go to a shop in the first place - at least I know they'll have better-quality ingredients than your squeezed-from-a-bottle chocolate sauce... I doubt there's even any chocolate in there, just fat and sugar.”

Ginny burst out laughing (when she had first pulled out the bottle, Draco had reacted much the same way until he got his first taste, when he proclaimed it delicious) and Draco spun on a heel, disappearing down the stairs in a huff.

He barely acknowledged the two bemused Weasley parents with a short nod as he passed, and moments later the distinct whoosh of someone Flooing away was heard.

Molly and Arthur Weasley blinked at their daughter, silently asking for an explanation. She blushed and mumbled, “Er, he's - he was - making a cake for his mother - her birthday, I guess...” Looking around for an escape, she spied the bag containing her new dress robes and snatched it away from her father. “You guys wait out here; I'll just try this on...”

Door safely slammed behind her, Ginny finally breathed in safely. Had they actually pulled it off? They must have - even if her parents suspected something, there was no proof. Which meant that no revenging brothers would be coming after Draco anytime soon, thank God. They might be watched closer from now on, and they certainly wouldn't attempt to spend any 'alone time' in the Burrow again, but... they were safe. Thank you, Draco.

Ginny sighed, all the tension and energy brought on by her panic bleeding out of her, leaving her very tired. Looking at her chocolate-smothered hand, it suddenly occurred to her that they could have just used Scourgify to get the mess from Draco's face - too bad neither of them had been thinking clearly at the time. At least it made for an amusing excuse.

After cleaning her own hand that way (snickering at the thought that Draco, arriving home, was probably just realizing the same thing and cursing himself for needlessly smearing his face in chocolate), Ginny turned to the task of trying on the dress robes. As she bent down to put her feet in them though, something black and shiny caught her eye, and Ginny lifted her bedcover to reveal Draco's boots lying there amid a pile of candles and a couple other stray items. Her mind flashed back to the scene on the landing - Draco stepping behind her parents, distracting them with a loud scene, escaping downstairs as fast as he could - and a gleeful grin grew over her face. She probably shouldn't be laughing, as it had been a close call, but...

Well, Ginny supposed anyone would excuse her humour; all one had to do was join her in picturing the dignified Prince of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, spinning barefoot out of one of the marble fireplaces at Malfoy manor, face covered in sticky, dripping chocolate sauce.

How could one not laugh?