There were two things that Draco Malfoy enjoyed at half past noon on a Sunday morning: a black coffee with two shots of espresso, and making fun of the women who didn’t possess enough brains to transfigure their clothing from Saturday night’s scantily-clad outfits to something sensible for their trip home on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, on this particular Sunday morning, his coffee was missing and the fog outside prevented him from seeing anyone passing underneath the balcony of his townhouse. He sighed and closed the curtains before lounging carelessly across his settee.

“Oh, what’s a poor rich boy to do on a cloudy day?”

“Poor rich boy doesn’t make sense,” Draco drawled. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the arm of the settee. “I don’t smell my kona coffee with two shots of espresso.”

“Good boy! Your nose is so good.”

He heard shuffling and kept his eyes closed as his feet were shoved off the settee. “And you are late.”

“Sorry, master. I didn’t know we had a specific time to meet . . . and might I remind you that last week I showed up and you were in Paris. Did I complain then? N—“

His eyes opened, one eyebrow raised. “How is the latest Nimbus? Are you enjoying it?”

“It was the least you could do, considering all the trouble I had to go through last week. I showed up only to get word that Mr. I-Need-to-Shag-a-Parisian-Woman was arrested by French Aurors for having sex at the top of the Eiffel Tower. So of course you had to buy me a broom. I had to speak to your mother, Portkey to Paris, and bail your sorry ars--”

“Language, Ginevra,” he interrupted. Sitting up, his back flush against the arm of the settee, he rested his hands on his stomach. “Is this you not complaining? I would hate to see what you consider complaining.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Draco Malfoy,” she replied.

He cocked his head to the side and observed one of his, surprisingly, closest friends. Red hair tumbled over her shoulders without a semblance of order, and her cheeks were flushed from the morning jog she’d made to his place. A sheen of sweat rested on her face, and she had wet spots across her stomach and back. Her toned legs rested on his one-of-a-kind, antique center table that was a year’s worth of her pay, and there was a nasty red splotch on her left calf that had not been there two days ago.

“Rug burn again?”

“I’m awful at healing it,” Ginny said, twisting her leg so she could look at the irritated skin. “We tried the dining table, but it kept sliding under us. I suppose we could have used a sticking charm, but I was far too worked up to think.”

“How is Theo?”

“Eh, not sure. I can’t remember the last time we actually used more than three syllables,” Ginny said with a shrug. “He did his job. I did mine. Everyone goes home happy, and no one has to cuddle.”

“You’ll shag him but you won’t cuddle him. I will never understand that concept,” Draco said with a smirk.

“Cuddling implies intimacy. Intimacy implies feelings. Feelings imply relationship. Can you really see Theodore Nott sitting at my mum’s table while my brothers grill him on his intentions?” Ginny laughed, twisting her hair into a makeshift bun. “Sex is sex. Intimacy is something I’ll save for someone who is worth it.”

“Point taken.” He stretched, his cashmere sweater inching up to expose a sliver of pale skin. “So what is on the schedule for today?”

“Well, Francesca's was closed this morning due to the weather. If you really want your kona coffee, we’ll have to venture out into Muggle London,” Ginny said.

“Is it raining?” he asked.

“Worried about your hair, princess?”

“It doesn’t look as nice when I get it wet,” Draco deadpanned.

“Wear a hat,” Ginny said, standing.

“I’m not taking fashion tips from the woman who wears stretchy cotton as trousers,” Draco said, rising from the settee. “I’ll get an umbrella and charm my hair to resist the elements.”

“Don’t knock my exercise trousers,” Ginny said, twisting to show him her backside. “Look how nice my bum looks in these.”

“What bum?”

“Arse,” Ginny muttered.

“The House Elves put all the clothes you’ve left here in the spare room off the master,” Draco said. “And you could use a shower. You smell like sweat and grass.”

“Draco,” she sighed, attempting to suppress her smile, “I’m in a really bad place and could use a hug.”

Draco ran.

Despite Ginny’s training, she could not catch up with the long-legged blond. Eventually she Ginny managed to shimmy against him in a vulgar way that made him vow to change his clothing, and the two parted ways to change. If there was one thing Draco did not like, it was sweat—outside of a shag. Malfoys did not sweat. It was unbecoming.

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny emerged in the entrance hall of his townhome, wet hair swept into a ponytail. She had traded her running shirt for a too-big black t-shirt and cotton stretchy trousers for a pair of denims. Her trainers were still on her feet, laces tucked into the side, and there seemed to be a worn patch at the side of one of them.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Considering the amount of money you make playing Quidditch, couldn’t you afford a new pair of trainers?” Draco braced his umbrella against his shoulder.

“What are you talking about? I love these. They’re comfy and stylish,” Ginny said.

“Let’s add shoe shopping to the list of things to do today,” Draco said.

“You and your lists,” Ginny said. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her head. “What else is on the agenda for today?”

“Stop at my tailor. Buy Mother a birthday present—“

“Just not another flesh-eating plant,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “You can only take one of those in a lifetime.”

“It was supposed to be orchids. It’s not my fault that the company was staffed by idiots,” Draco said, exasperated. “Besides, I think I will do generic diamonds this year.”

“You can’t go wrong with diamonds,” Ginny said. She put on the parka she had left on the coat rack in the entrance. “Come on. I think today is going to be longer than expected. Can we at least have dinner at Fusion, the new sushi place in Diagon Alley?”

“New trainers for Fusion.”

“Deal.” Ginny said. “But you have to eat three pieces of sushi and do one saki bomb.”

“Then you have to wear stilettos, even if they’re painful,” Draco said smugly.

“Arse,” Ginny muttered. She sighed. “Deal. Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~

“Your addiction to coffee is so bizarre.”

Draco pushed away the empty porcelain mug. “How so?”

“I think I always expected you to sip on tea and nibble biscuits while chuckling over piles of gold,” Ginny said, biting into her croissant. She brushed the crumbs off her shirt, eyes furrowed in concentration. “But two shots of espresso? I can hardly handle one without wanting to sprint around a Quidditch field.”

“Yes, I know. Remember our date?”

“To be fair, I was attempting to prove that I could handle anything Draco Malfoy could,” Ginny said, pointing a half eaten croissant at him. “Clearly, coffee is not one of those things.”

“At least I got some entertainment out of that evening,” Draco said.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get up and leave once you realized it was me,” Ginny said, cocking her head to the side. “We never could get along in school.”

“It would have been rude, and I am a perfect gentleman,” Draco drawled. “Besides, if you were going to stick through that disastrous blind date, then I wasn’t going to be the one to back down.”

“Ellie and George just did not bother to learn the social scene did they?” Ginny laughed. “I guess they must not have family feuds in Canada. Ellie was so shocked when I told her.”

“Everywhere has family feuds,” Draco scoffed. “Our feud is simply more public.”

“‘Is?’ I was under the impression we could speak in past tense now,” Ginny said with a grin. “I’ve seen you starkers. I think we can put the feud to rest.”

“That doesn’t count,” Draco said, brushing her off. “You only saw me from behind...and briefly.”

“Your arse could use some firming,” Ginny said nonchalantly.

“Says the woman who constantly talks about minimizing the jiggle effect,” Draco shot back.

"Have you seen my mother? I need to be concerned with these things," Ginny hissed. She brushed the remaining crumbs from her shirt. "Are you properly caffeinated now? Shall we do a little shopping?"

"After you," Draco said, standing and waving in the direction of the door. "I would say ladies first, but that would be an insult to ladies everywhere."

"I didn't see you complaining when you were goggling at my tits," Ginny said with a smile.

"That was one time," Draco said haughtily. "And Malfoys do not 'goggle.' I was admiring the free show you were giving to the public."

"Sure," Ginny said. She stood and led them out onto the bustling streets of Muggle London. "What first?"

"New trainers and then we can head into Diagon Alley for the diamonds," Draco said, shaking out his umbrella. He opened it and allowed Ginny to loop her arm through his. "If I remember correctly, there's a store around the corner."

"If someone had told me that Draco Malfoy knew his way around Muggle London, I would have referred them to a good Healer at Mungos." Ginny huddled closer as cars zoomed past on the street. "Then again, I am the one shopping with said Malfoy in said place."

"I can drop you off at St. Mungos on the way to Diagon Alley," Draco offered.

"Please do," Ginny said. "I would enjoy the company of Gilderoy Lockhart. He did make me swoon, once upon a time."

"Before he tried to leave you to die in the chamber, you mean?" Draco led them down a street with people dressed inappropriately for a rainy day. Women wore heels and cried out when droplets of water fell on their coiffed hair. "How are the nightmares?"

Ginny’s steps faltered. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“And I have black hair and call myself Rudolph,” Draco said sarcastically.

“Is there a reason you need to have an alternate identity?” asked Ginny. “Are you doing illegal things without me?”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Draco said. He looked down at the top of her head. “I asked if you were having nightmares.”

“I heard, and I said I was fine,” Ginny said.

“Ginevra,” Draco probed.


"It’s just the usual stuff. Big snake, Tom Riddle, and Harry never coming to find me," Ginny said exasperatedly. "It’s better we just don’t talk about it."

“Fine, I have some Dreamless Sleep draught at the townhouse. We won’t discuss it—for now," Draco said.

Ginny smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Draco closed his umbrella and nodded to the men who opened the doors to the shop for them. "Shall we?"

"It's a little fancy for trainers, isn't it?" Ginny thanked the doormen and moved inside. "Or did you have some other purpose? A new pair of loafers perhaps?"

"Well, mine are getting a little ratty," Draco said, calling over one of the sales ladies.

"You bought them three weeks ago," Ginny protested.

"I've worn them practically every day since," Draco said. He turned away at her raised eyebrows. "Four times."

"I suppose when you're sitting on a house full of gold, you can manage to buy shoes every day for the rest of your life." Ginny scowled at the thin-heeled shoes gracing the women's side. "Where are the trainers?"

They walked to the back of the store and found trainers displayed on over-the-top golden pedestals. Draco immediately steered Ginny away from garish neon orange trainers with green stripes. His redheaded friend had a penchant for the absurd when it came to her clothing. He assumed this came from years of wearing hand-me-downs, although his latest theory was that she had spent too much time around Fred and George's experiments and was a little touched in the head.

"These?" She held up a pair of gold studded trainers. "They're cool."

Draco beckoned over one of the sales women and picked up a pair of gray and blue trainers. "She'll take these in the gray, white, and black."

"And these as well," Ginny said, peeking her head out from behind Draco's shoulder. "Thanks."

"No, she doesn't want those," Draco said, causing the sales lady to halt before she walked away. "We'll stick with the three I chose."

Ginny rolled her eyes before stepping out from behind Draco's slim form. "If you want me to purchase anything, you'll bring me his three and my gold trainers."

The sales lady looked between both Draco and Ginny, a look of trepidation on her face. "So four pairs of trainers?"

"Yes," Ginny said. She clapped a hand over Draco's mouth before he could protest. "I let you get away with choosing not one but three pairs of shoes for me. Let's not push our luck today, yea?"

Draco removed her hand from his face with a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know where your hand has been."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ginny said teasingly, waggling her eyebrows.

"I'm going to go work off my disgust in the men's shoe section." Draco turned on his heel and walked towards the smell of polished leather.

"Revenge will be sweet my friend." Ginny stepped in stride with him. "You do realize that I intend on picking out a few pairs of shoes for you as well, right?"

"I think not," Draco said.

"Oh but I think so, and we both know I always win these arguments," Ginny said, running her hand over a pair of fur covered shoes. "How about these?"

"Why am I still friends with you?"

"Because I'm the only person who will tolerate you?" Ginny picked up the fur shoes, moving to a pair of smoking slippers with a gold scorpion on the front. "Plus, I have a charming personality, good looks, and a mouth dirtier than Hagrid's socks."

Draco paled. "I have an image of you with Hagrid's socks in your mouth stuck in my head."

"Gross," Ginny said, handing her two picks to the sales lady. "Just for that image, you're getting the hot pink loafers with the diamond skull and bones."

"I'll give it to one of my house e—servants," Draco said. "They'll be overjoyed."

"If you do, I will take a picture of them in your closet to send to the Prophet," Ginny said.

"You wouldn't," Draco scoffed.

"Or would I?" Ginny raised both eyebrows and placed her hands on her hip.

Draco knew that look well. They had only been friends for two years, but after a particularly embarrassing lesson of waking up in the middle of a Muggle park with nothing but a pink feather boa, he’d learned that Ginny Weasley was not one to back down from a challenge. She was the embodiment of Fred and George Weasley with a mean streak and a perfect set of tits.

"Fine." Draco picked up a pair of leather loafers. "I won't give them away."

"Good boy," Ginny said. She stretched and yawned. "I could use a nap before we go to dinner tonight."

"We can skip the rest of the list," Draco said idly. "I'll push my tailor’s appointment to tomorrow and go through some catalogue for mother's present."

"It's not like you have much else to do," Ginny said. "I honestly have no idea how you can not work or do anything productive all day."

"It's called having enough money to not care," Draco said.

Ginny laughed. "I suppose. I just wouldn't be able to sit at home all day. We're in off-season now and I can't even take a vacation."

The two friends parted ways outside the entrance to Diagon Alley, but Draco's mind kept going over Ginny's statement about his life. It was true. He had nothing to do all day except make the occasional charity appearance or meet with the bank to discuss his inheritance. The company was run by people he hired, since he knew he wouldn’t thrive in the business world, and the Malfoy estate did not need his attention while his mother sat at its helm. So he spent his days planning vacations for himself, shopping, and meeting up with his friends. What else was there to do?

~~~~~~~~

Diagon Alley was bright and crowded when Draco arrived near Fusion. The alley had come into the new age, shining and sparkling, mostly in part to the generous donations of three families: the Malfoys, the Zabinis, and the Notts. Together, the three former Slytherins had funded a renovation effort in Diagon Alley. The three boys had been sent to stay in America for a few months after their graduation from Hogwarts while their family members stood trial, and they had been impressed with the nightlife of the various cities. It was one thing the Wizarding world had been lacking in Great Britain.

On their return from their "vacation," they had gathered together and proposed a foundation for the renewal of the Wizarding hub. It took a year to fix the one lane street and expand the district, creating more room as well as more off streets. Empty buildings were built to allow for new stores and restaurants, and the infamous Knockturn Alley was not kept out of the renewal effort—the streets were cleaned, storefronts were redone, and the alley was no longer as scary as it used to be.

Of course, this also meant that the three families, who had split the ownership of the various buildings, now owned Diagon Alley. They were leased to various vendors, and Draco had invested money into the setup of the most prestigious, well-to-do nightclub in Diagon Alley. The clientele was specific to notable faces and pretty women. Ginny often joked that it was a closet whorehouse, and Draco couldn't completely deny her statement. But pretty women meant happy men, and happy men meant good business.

As he rounded on the new restaurant, he noticed flashing lights and a crowd of people. Upon closer inspection, he realized that there was a press area as well as a carpet, which flashed various colors, leading into the restaurant. He moved closer to the building, noticing the steady stream of notable faces that milled outside the restaurant. He could only deduce that they were hosting an event of some sort. He was not too keen on the idea of eating at the restaurant when they were throwing a party, and he knew Ginny would agree, although she would be disappointed. She had read about their opening in the Daily Prophet and mentioned going every day for a week.

A small group of teenage girls passed the restaurant, stopping to point at someone in the middle of a crowd. "Look! It's Ginny Weasley!"

"Well played, Weasley," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pocket and approaching the crowd of famous faces.

In the middle of the crowd, waving to photographers and signing autographs for her fans, was the record-scoring chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. If there was one thing that Draco had to admit Ginny did well, it was public appearances. While her casual, day-to-day style consisted of baggy clothes and wild colors, her outfits for parties and events always stunned crowds. For example, tonight, she wore a champagne dress so tight that he wouldn't have been able to fit parchment between it and her body. Her burgundy red hair was left in big curls that draped down her back perfectly, even when she tousled it for the cameras. And her shoes, which Draco realized she had probably planned to wear from the start, were thin-heeled strappy things that she would no doubt complain about all night.

Ginny looked up and saw him, brown eyes flashing with amusement as she approached him. Smiling, she said, "Hello, princess.”

"Your tits look phenomenal," Draco said, his eyes focused on the valley in between her breasts. "Do you know how much women pay to get those?"

Ginny looked down and shrugged. "More than they're worth, I assure you. The back pain really just isn't worth it. Besides, small breasts are a lot more clothing-versatile."

"You could wear a trash bag, and men would still want you for that lovely set you have on your chest." He allowed her to loop arms with him. "Now, am I to assume that you were planning on wearing those torture devices on your feet before we made our deal?"

"It's more fun to make you think that you're winning," Ginny said.

"Yes, it is more fun when I win," Draco said. "I'll be staring at your tits all night until you squirm in your seat."

"A rip-my-clothes-off-now squirm? Or a creepy-dirty-man squirm?" asked Ginny, stopping to pose for a picture with a fan. "So?"

"A mix of both," Draco said nonchalantly. "I imagine one more hour in that dress, and you'll want me to cut you out of it anyway."

"You're right. Breathing is definitely restricted, but again, my bum looks phenomenal in this. Take a look," Ginny said, sticking her derriere out in a lewd manner.

"We're in public," Draco said, eyeing her behind. "And you're right."

"They're all paying attention to the new girl on the team. She might outshine me in the showing-of-the-assets category," Ginny said, trying to get a peek of her blonde teammate. "She's hell on a broom though and hits a Bludger better than the twins."

"So what is this event that you tricked me into?" asked Draco. "You could have used the age-old method of asking me to accompany you."

"Not nearly as fun," Ginny said. "It's just the opening party for Fusion. Lucy, our new PR lady, decided we needed a little off-season face time. She sent all of us a list of different events that we can go to, and we're contractually required to do at least seven of them."

"Trying to get more popularity?" asked Draco, steely faced for the cameras.

"I suppose," Ginny said, smiling. "Now put on that debonair look that made you Britain's Hottest Bachelor and make me look good."

They did a few pictures together before Draco stepped aside to allow her time alone. She laughed with the photographers, made faces at them, and then waved as she walked away—her arse swishing invitingly. He saw more than one of the men put down their cameras to get a better look, and he knew that she was doing it on purpose. That star power was why Ginny Weasley was the face of the Holyhead Harpies. There was never an article written about the team that didn't have her picture in it. She was their star, and they paid her more money than she knew what to do with because of the way she could command a crowd’s attention.

He joined her inside the restaurant, unimpressed by the modern Asian decor. "It smells like fish in here."

"I had a comment about the amount of women in here on the tip of my tongue, but that wouldn't be very appropriate," Ginny said, pointing to a table for two. "Come on, let's get a table for two before we get wrangled into joining other people."

"Not feeling social tonight, are we?" He pulled out her chair before sitting across from her. "You picked a great spot to not be social in."

"Hey, the food is supposed to be good. That's all that matters," Ginny said, looking around the room. She leaned over and wriggled her hands. "Hands-y Marcus is here, by the way. Keep your body between his and mine or I might end up in Ministry confinement tonight. He had the nerve to try and slap my arse a few nights ago at your club."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You went to my club without me?"

"The night you were shagging the Romanian girl," Ginny said.

"Romanian girl?" Draco thought back.

"Tall, leggy, blonde hair that didn't match her down—“

"Oh, her," Draco said, nodding. "You really do have a dirty mouth."

"It's been two years. You can't honestly still be shocked," Ginny said, smiling at the waitress. "Hi."

They put in their orders and did complimentary sake bombs. While they waited for their food, Ginny signed a few autographs for some of her annoying male fans, and Draco glared at hands-y Marcus in order to deter him from coming over to their table. He would have to have a word with the staff at the nightclub about watching Ginny while she was there.

When their sushi arrived, Draco proposed his new plan to Ginny. It had come to him after their shopping trip, while he had been mulling over what to do with his days. It had begun to bother him that he really seemed to have nothing to keep himself entertained, despite all his money. Then he realized that he had everything to keep himself entertained because of his money. His options were limitless.

"I'm making a bucket list," he announced.

Ginny paused mid-bite. "Draco, is everything alright? You were looking a little peaky last week. Is that it? Do you have some sort of terminal illness?"

"Peaky? I did not look peaky," Draco denied.

"No illness, then?" Ginny asked.

"No," he replied, still ruffled by the peaky comment. "I was thinking earlier--"

"That is news," Ginny said, giggling. She stopped when he glared at her. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"Keep giggling, I can almost see a nipple," Draco drawled. "Care to give a peep show tonight?"

"I could make a sizable amount off it," Ginny joked.

"As I was saying, I was thinking about earlier when you said I do nothing all day," Draco said, pushing away one of the sushi rolls on his plate. "You're right. I don't do anything. So I decided to make a list of all the things I want to do and do them."

"For example?" Ginny pressed.

"Tomorrow, you and I are going to Dubai to start,” Draco said proudly.

Ginny’s mouth snapped shut. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I booked a private Portkey and made hotel arrangements for us.” Draco held his hand up when she began to get red in the face. “Listen, you have nothing to do at the moment, except keep in shape. You can do that in Dubai. The hotel has an indoor and outdoor professional Quidditch pitch, jogging track included. We’re young. We’re well off, me more so than you, and we have some time off.”

“Having time off implies that you have time on—doing something, anything,” Ginny snapped irritably. “How could you decide that I would take a trip without asking first?”

“It’s a trip with yours truly,” Draco said, eating a piece of sushi. “Who wouldn’t want to go?”

Ginny’s lips twitched, though her face remained serious. “I have events to attend.”

“We’re only a Portkey away from home,” Draco said. “Don’t you even want to hear what we’ll be doing?”

“I’m terrified,” Ginny said. She sighed and called over a waitress. “I need four sake bombs.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Okay, what are you planning for us if—and that is a large if—I go to Dubai?” Ginny cringed as he began to speak.

“Well, first, we’re going to go riding with a company called Extreme Carpeting,” Draco said.

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “Not Magic Carpets.”

“It’s safe. They come highly recommended,” Draco said, waving her worries off. “They’re going to take us on one of their signature, high speed rides. Then we’ll go camel riding.”

“Camel riding?” Ginny thanked the waitress and did a sake bomb, glaring at the photographer snapping pictures. “Why would we ride camels?”

“To get to the restaurant that has the best food on the Persian Gulf,” Draco said as if it were obvious. “Then the next day, I planned for us to learn to drive Muggle cars.”

“Are you trying to die? Is this some sort of bucket-list-before-I-kill-myself sort of thing?” Ginny finished her third sake bomb. “Do you want the last one?”

“I suspect you better have it. I’ll have to throw you over my shoulders to get you out of here,” Draco said. “So will you go?”

“On one condition,” Ginny said, pausing to do the fourth sake bomb. “I get to pick some things to do as well.”

“Well, we’ll be in Dubai for three days. Then I want to head to Italy and tour some vineyards. I’ve always wanted to own a vineyard,” Draco said. “I’ll have my assistant prepare clothes for you. I’ll give her your sizes.”

“How do you even know my sizes?” Ginny held up a finger when he moved to talk. “And why can’t I bring my own clothes?”

“Dubai has a strict dress code policy for women. I wouldn’t want you to get arrested,” Draco said. “It’s better this way.”

“I won’t be able to convince you otherwise, will I?”

“You can try. I’ll have fun watching,” Draco said with a smirk. “What else are you going to do for the next two weeks until training officially starts?”

“You’re the most frustarating—wait, no, frustorting—frustr—annoying person I have ever met,” Ginny finished.

Draco chuckled, moving a plate of wasabi before Ginny’s elbow could land in it. “You are the biggest lightweight I have ever met.”

“Shove off!”

“You first, darling.”

“Don’t say, darling,” Ginny said, rolling her ‘r.’ “It sounds perverted.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

“I’m going to commit suicide on this trip. I can see the headlines now, ‘Quidditch Star Offs Herself after Forced Adventure with Britain’s Hottest Bachelor.’” Ginny giggled.

“Tomorrow’s headline will be ‘Quidditch Star Carried out of Restaurant on the Back of Courageous Malfoy Bachelor,’” Draco retorted.

Ginny snorted. “You would paint yourself in a flattering light.”

“You’re the one, who keeps reminding me of my ‘Hottest Bachelor’ status,” Draco said amusedly. “Which I am, of course.”

Ginny sighed. “When I kill myself on this trip, just let my family know I love them. You’ll have a chance when my brothers come to kill you.”

“I’ll get away in the Muggle car I buy after I learn to drive,” Draco said. “I might not have any use for it, but I might as well have one.”

“Merlin, help me.”

“Merlin’s dead,” Draco deadpanned.

The following morning, Draco was greeted in the foyer of his townhome by a groggy Ginny, sporting a pair of his sweatpants and an undershirt she had most likely pilfered from his room. Her hair was in a disheveled ponytail, and she had sunglasses on, even though the foyer was dim. She scrunched her nose and gripped the handrail, her head slipping forward slightly. Having seen that motion before, Draco took the vial in his hand and stuck it under her nose.

“Have this,” Draco said. He wrinkled his nose at her appearance. “And I had one of the house elves put a set of robes in your room. You should put those on and try using that thing we call a brush. Your nest is crooked.”

Ginny swallowed the nausea potion with a wince. “Why didn’t you stop me after I did those four sake bombs in a row?”

“Who am I to stop your fun and my amusement?” Draco adjusted the cuff of his robes, a sly grin on his face. “Besides, you’re more fun at the nightclub when you’re sloshed.”

“If I didn’t think it would hurt me more than you, I would hit you,” Ginny grumbled. She groaned. “Did I really dance on the bar last night?”

“I never knew string could be considered knickers now,” Draco drawled.

“Please tell me no one else saw,” Ginny begged.

“I had security handle it. Your reputation as an upstanding party girl still remains.” He looked at his watch. “Now, I need you in your robes and decent in fifteen minutes. I Flooed to let the hotel know we would be arriving at the top of the hour.”

“Yes, Master,” Ginny mimed, turning on her heels.

Within minutes, she reappeared in a set of figure hugging charcoal robes, hair in a neat braid over her shoulder. Her face still looked pale, and her sunglasses were propped on her head, but she looked presentable and less peaky.

“Alright, let’s do this thing,” Ginny said, pulling at the top of her robes. “Could you have gotten me a more fitted robe?”

“Contrary to your beliefs, Weasley, robes are actually supposed to fit your body,” Draco said, holding out an ornate vase for her to grasp. “I had my tailor adjust them to your size—well my assistant’s size. But you and Lillian are approximately the same. I had him give you a little more space for your tits. You really can’t find a set like that on another girl.”

“It’s a borderline obsession for you now, isn’t it?” Ginny shook her head. “Two years and you still haven’t managed to kick your penchant for my breasts.”

“It’s a disease,” Draco said with a shrug.

“If you’re good, you can touch one for three seconds,” Ginny teased.

Draco knew it was a joke—one that had begun early in their friendship when Draco had popped into her flat unannounced to find her in her underthings. Drunk, he had blurted out how lovely her tits were, and the joke was born. However, the thought of actually touching them stirred an interest of sorts, and he quickly shook it off. It had to be a lingering side effect of the previous night’s protectiveness—something about Marcus Flint’s attempt to follow them around last night had stirred a sense of protectiveness in him that he couldn’t explain—and there was the fact that he hadn’t shagged anyone in a few days.

“Well, we’ll be in the same suite so my room door is only a step away,” Draco said with a wink.

“In your dreams,” Ginny rebuked.

“And what lovely dreams they are—tits everywhere,” Draco said.

“A fetish. You have a breast fetish,” Ginny said, laughing at his expression. “I could sell that to the public for thousands of Galleons. Can you imagine? Girls would be outside your door with their shirts off.”

Draco looked thoughtful. “In that case, maybe I should have you do that. It would be a nice view to enjoy while I’m drinking coffee.”

“Unless someone’s grandmother is a cougar and decides to show up at your door without a shirt,” Ginny said. “Just a warning, gravity kicks in after awhile.”

“You’re cruel,” Draco said, shuddering at the image she conjured in his head.

“You must be rubbing off on me,” Ginny said sweetly.

“I can’t say I’ve been rubbing any part of you,” Draco said. “You would need to ask for that service.”

“Are you for hire now?” asked Ginny, waggling her eyebrows. “I could have a few uses for someone like you.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Weasley. I’m priceless,” he said haughtily.

“So do I get you for free then?” she asked, leaning forward so he had a good view of her cleavage.

He leaned close to her, inches apart. “I’m never free, darling. There’s always a payment.”

The vase in their hands began to glow blue, and the two of them held on as a familiar sucking feeling overtook them. Their feet were off the ground for longer than usual before they landed—stumbling into a room with sparse furniture and plush royal blue carpets. A gilded mirror hung on the wall opposite their landing site, revealing that while Draco had been perfectly fine with the trip, Ginny looked a little green.

“Don’t vomit on the carpet. It’s not a good introduction,” Draco said, stepping back a few steps.

“Yes, because that is how I love to greet people. ‘Hi, how are you? Mind if I just regurgitate on your rug? Thanks,’” Ginny said.

“It’s only been two years. I don’t know everything about you,” Draco said, setting the vase down on a nearby table. “You do have strange habits.”

“Name one,” Ginny said, rubbing her stomach with an expression of pain on her face.

“You like putting peanut butter on your Pumpkin Pasties,” Draco said, disgusted. “Peanut butter is so plebian.”

Ginny opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. “I won’t bother responding to that one. Where are we?”

“The Portkey point for the hotel,” Draco said.

“Nice,” Ginny breathed.

Two double doors opened, revealing a man in blue robes. “Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley, welcome. I hope your travel went well.”

“My friend has a weak stomach,” Draco said.

“Let me get you some tea.” He removed his wand from his sleeve and twirled it in the air three times, emitting glittering blue sparks. “It will be in your room.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, a little unsure.

“I am Raj. I will be your personal butler. I will show you to your suite,” he said, gesturing towards the doors. “We will be going to the 126th floor. It is the highest point in the hotel and affords the best view of the Persian Gulf.”

“Good,” Draco said. “We should have two of the associates from Extreme Carpeting arriving for us at eleven. Let me know when they arrive.”

“Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” Raj opened the lift doors for them, and the group stepped onto the platform. “Should I have breakfast delivered to your room? You must still be on London time.”

“Yes,” Draco said. He looked at Ginny, who seemed to be holding onto the railing with a steel grip. “Make sure there is fresh fruit and maybe some toast.”

Raj looked at the redhead and nodded. “We have a special tea for such stomachaches. I will make it for you when we get to the suite. Follow me to your private lift”

Draco spent the ride creating room between him and Ginny, wanting to avoid getting sick on him should she decide to empty her stomach. Thankfully, they reached the palatial suite without incident.

“This is beautiful,” Ginny said, turning in a circle.

“Ah, yes. The magical community of Dubai is located on an island in the Persian Gulf. The main land is accessible to us, but we do not need it.” Raj pointed out one of the windows to his left. “The Muggles have spent an increasing amount of time installing new technologies into the city, and it is better to keep magical interference away from them.”

“Is the magical community large in Dubai?” asked Ginny.

“One of the largest,” Draco said. He nodded to Raj. “Ms. Weasley would like that tea before the tour.”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Raj said with a slight nod. “I will see to it.”

“Our company has a research division on the island,” Draco said. He led Ginny down the gold painted stairs that led into an extravagant, jewel toned sitting room. “The community here is large and rich in history. The island is almost as big as the main land and has a large desert that researchers have been attempting to traverse for years.”

“What are they looking for?”

Draco shrugged. “History.”

“Is there something for your company to gain from it?” asked Ginny. “It doesn’t seem like them to do things for the purpose of knowledge. That would be too Hermione Granger for them.”

“There are secrets that were lost throughout time, according to the legends. Secrets about the first magical child, and some people believe those secrets are in that desert,” Draco said. They stood inches away from the wall of glass that afforded them a panoramic view of the ocean and the island. “It’s right out there.”

“Is that where this restaurant is that we will be having lunch?”

“Yes,” Draco said. He cocked his head to the side. “I’ll have to see the arrangements for the camel.”

“And let’s not forget the other part of our deal,” Ginny said, waggling her finger at him. “I get to pick some of the things on this list as well.”

“If you must,” Draco said. “You can send a letter to Lillian with everything you need. She will arrange it.”

“Have I ever told you how absurd it is that you have an assistant and no job?” Ginny grinned at him. “How much could you possibly have to do?”

“She isn’t my assistant. She’s my social secretary. Who else will keep my appointments in order?” He moved to the sidebar and helped himself to a glass of amber liquid. “I do have a busy social life.”

“Partying, drinking, and going to dinner every night,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how you find time for me.”

“It is a mystery,” Draco said, sniffing the drink before taking a sip. “Smooth.”

“Is that Fi—“

“Scotch,” Raj said, appearing at her side with a cup of tea. “The island brews some of the best. You cannot find it on the main land as they are more strict with their laws, another reason we suggest visitors be wary of heading into Muggle areas. It becomes an ordeal to free tourists from the prisons. Shall we see about that tour?”

Draco and Ginny followed Raj through the suite, each room revealing more sumptuous luxuries than the last. The décor was a mix of circus meets modern, everything in a rich jewel tone—emerald, topaz, sapphire, and ruby red. It was almost too much for the eye to take in but just enough. The suite consisted of three floors, both bedrooms on the lower floor. Raj showed them into their rooms, which were decorated in a rich purple and gold.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?” asked Raj.

“Yes, it will do,” Draco said.

“It’s beautiful,” Ginny added, running her finger across the silky bed curtains.

Raj inclined his head. “Thank you. Your clothing arrived last night, and I have taken the liberty of packing it away. If there is anything else you need, ask me. I can get you the proper attire for every occasion.”

Draco nodded. “Breakfast?”

“I will have it prepared and in the dining room,” Raj said.

“You’re dismissed.” Draco waved him away.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

“That was rude,” Ginny said, sticking her head in the bathroom. “Is this a pool or a bath tub?”

“If his feelings are easily hurt, he should look into a different career.” Draco opened the doors to the closet and found the clothing Lillian had picked out for Ginny. “I assume this is your room.”

Ginny stood next to him, her shoulder brushing against his. “Unless you have a fetish for wearing female clothing as well as your breast fetish.”

“They’re too small for me,” Draco said.

“That implies you’re large,” Ginny replied.

Draco turned to face her and smirked. “You have no idea how large I am.”

“Only if you’re referring to your ego,” Ginny retorted.

“If you’re not careful, I might have to prove exactly how incorrect you are,” Draco said. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re after, Ms. Weasley?”

“Mr. Malfoy, I will always be the one girl you couldn’t quite get into bed,” Ginny whispered. “Remember?”

“Oh now that sounds like a challenge,” Draco said. He sidestepped her, leaning over to whisper into her ear. “And we know how you and I both feel about challenges.”

“Breakfast should be ready,” Ginny said, turning her head away. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I might be making some changes to my bucket list too,” Draco said with a wink. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

He began his walk to his room, thinking about friendship with the redhead. It had started with a blind date gone wrong. A Weasley and a Malfoy on a date was a ridiculous idea. They had spent the entire night getting pissed and talking about their woeful Canadian friends. The two of them walked back to her flat—well, she stumbled—and parted ways without so much as a kiss. The next morning, he bumped into her at his coffee shop, and they made joking plans to meet again for another night of drinking. Before they could make any sort of plans, they ran into each other at his nightclub. She was on a date, and he was in desperate need of a good shag. Somehow, after all was said and done, she ended up passed out on his guest room bed, which eventually just became her room.

Drinking started their friendship. It was easy to forget last names and blood feuds when you had six shots in you and more at hand. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty. In fact, it worked out well. She didn’t have to work to find someone to accompany her to social functions and neither did he. They had a mutual understanding, one that never involved sex. Teasing, yes. Touching, more often than not. Sex, no. They were friends. Women and men could be friends contrary to popular opinion.

Draco let himself into his room and sank down on the bed. There were never any issues with their understanding. They would flirt. They would use innuendo. They would be suggestive. They would not have sex.

Their understanding had worked well until a memorable night out in Germany. Well, it wasn’t actually memorable—neither one of them could remember a thing about it. She had lost a game and spent the evening in her hotel room, drinking away her sorrows. The next morning, she was draped across him, clothed, with hickeys on her neck. They couldn’t remember what happened, but it was a good assumption that there had been a little more than just playful touching. More than once he had been tempted to try a Pensieve, but he always resisted. It was better not knowing. But things had changed since then, and he knew it was the same for her.

Thoughts that weren’t there before now surfaced. She blushed sometimes when he touched her, just the faintest pink tinge instead of her usual angry tomato red that was wholly unattractive. For two weeks after the incident, neither one of them made one suggestive innuendo until the entire thing was a faded memory—one they couldn’t remember of course.

He fixed his hair in the mirror and straightened his robes. They were friends. Sex was not involved.

~~~~~~~~

“Are you two ready for some extreme carpet riding?”

Draco nodded, dragging Ginny behind him. “We’re ready.”

“I really don’t feel comfortable being up in the air without something between my legs,” Ginny whispered furiously.

“I can certainly help you out if you wish,” Draco said, pulling her towards him.

Ginny slapped his chest. “Now is not the right time.”

“Unless my parents are around, it is always the right time,” Draco said. He stepped onto the carpet, which was lying on the floor. “Come on, Weasley.”

“I think I could just take a day at the spa,” Ginny said. “Right?”

“Alright, enough,” Draco dragged her to him, holding her in a tight embrace. “You’re a Quidditch player. You can’t be afraid of a flying carpet.”

“I most certainly can,” Ginny said, struggling against him.

Draco groaned. “Keep doing that and this ride will get a lot more comfortable.”

She stilled. “Can’t keep control, Malfoy?”

“I can,” he said. He held her closer to him. “It’s more fun for you if I don’t.”

“For you too, I assure you,” Ginny said. She shoved him back. “Shall we get this done?”

“In public? I never took you for that type of girl, Weasley.” Draco took a seat on the carpet, and Ginny sat next to him. “We’re ready.”

“Alright,” the man said. “I’m Vil, your driver. Is this your first time on a carpet?”

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Alright, a few rules,” Vil said. He clapped his hands together. “Sit side by side on the carpet. You’ll want to keep the weight even. Don’t want anyone falling off.”

“Has that happened?” Ginny clenched Draco’s hand.

“We—“

“Perfectly safe,” Draco said. He turned to the man with cold eyes. “Correct?”

“The safest,” Vil said, clearing his throat. “But please keep all body parts on the carpet. We don’t want anyone—keep yourself on the carpet.”

“This is the worst idea,” Ginny said, squeezing Draco’s hand with an ever-tightening grip. “I’m going to end up splat on some building.”

“Off we go,” Vil said.

It was like flying on a broom with legs crossed. The wind rushed past him, whistling in his ears. Around him, the ground disappeared, and the sky and ocean became his only visual. His skin tingled with goose bumps, and his hand was numb from Ginny’s grip. Her body shivered against his own, and she moved closer to him.

“This is insane.” She looped an arm through his, closing her eyes tightly. “Incredibly insane and I’m not sure I’m enjoying it.”

“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Draco drawled. “There are a hundred thousand things to see from up here, and you’ll miss all of it.”

Ginny opened one eye and looked at him. “That sounds oddly familiar.”

The carpet dipped, and Ginny’s hand tightened around his bicep. Vil turned back and smiled at them before taking them into a twist through a mountain pass. It was on their way over a cul-de-sac in the Persian Gulf when the carpet began to tremble. The speed increased, and Vil seemed a little shaky in his steering. When the carpet began to stop and go, Draco felt Ginny’s nails digging into his skin.

“I think something’s wrong,” Ginny said.

“No, no. We’re fin—“ Vil was cut off by the further stuttering of the carpet. “I’m going to coast us down.”

Except coasting them down did not happen. As the carpet moved closer to the rock ledge overlooking the cul-de-sac, the three passengers were wrapped in a tangled heap of unmoving fabric. On instinct, Draco wrapped his arms around Ginny, his body twisting to hold her. Vil twisted out of the carpet, and it fell away from the three, floating down to the ground. Before he could remove his wand from his sleeve, searing pain shot through his body on all sides. Then it went quiet.

~~~~~~~~

Draco came to consciousness, his body aching. His eyes felt as if they had been sealed shut, and he couldn’t move a single muscle. Images of falling flashed behind his lids, and a strangled sound escaped his throat. The noise caused a reaction of shuffling sounds around him, which made him aware of the fact that he was not alone.

“Ginny?”

“Thank Merlin. You crazy man.” He heard Ginny’s voice and tried to move. “Stop whatever you’re doing right now. I have some potions to give you. Don’t struggle.”

He felt soft fingers on his mouth, loosening his lips. “Ungh.”

“Shh,” Ginny cooed. “I’m going to have to massage your throat to get you to swallow.”

Liquid rushed past his lips, and he felt a warm hand on his throat, gently kneading. She murmured words of encouragement as potion after potion was poured into his mouth. The pain began to recede, and his head felt light. His entire body slipped into a state of near numbness, the pain a buzzing in the back of his mind. He opened his eyes to a vision of red.

“Sorry,” Ginny said, swiping her hair out of the way. She looked at him with wide brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not feeling anything now,” he whispered hoarsely. He looked around and saw familiar purple décor. “How did we get back?”

“Well, after you played hero, you and Vil were both unconscious. I tried to bring you back, but you kept slipping out because of the pain. So I shot red sparks into the air, and eventually a team of Aurors arrived to investigate.” Ginny put the last of the vials on the side table. “They helped me get you back here, and we called in a Healer.”

“Where is he?”

“She,” Ginny corrected. “She came, assessed you, and left me with the proper potions to administer when you woke up. Obviously you’re feeling better. Can I get you anything?”

“How did I get in these clothes?” he asked, looking down at his pajama-clothed body.

“I had to change you,” Ginny said, her cheeks pink tinged.

He chuckled, wincing at the pain that shot through his head. “Got a nice show, did you?”

“I didn’t realize that you liked to go without underpants,” Ginny said, hurriedly getting off the bed.

“I like the freedom every once in a while,” he said shrugging.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go to bed then. The Healer said you would feel tired after the potions. So goodnight.”

“Ginny?”

“Yes?” She paused in the doorway and looked back. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

Draco smirked. “Did I meet the challenge?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re fighting fit, Malfoy. Goodnight.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” he shouted after her.

“Which is why I said that,” came the delayed reply.

Draco chuckled, his eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Draco awoke in confusion. The moon was still shining brightly outside his window, and he couldn’t figure out why he woke up. He shifted around in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, although it was in vain.

“I could use a dr—“

A moan interrupted his whisper, followed by a shouted “No!”

Upon hearing Ginny scream, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand and moved as quickly as he could into the hallway. He could still hear Ginny’s moans, but there was no one at her doorway. Peeking into the room, he saw that she was in bed, the sheets twisted around her. She kicked an errant pillow across the bed, and she moaned incoherent words in her sleep. His ultimate plan was to wake her up and relieve her from the nightmares. But a small part of him wanted to look away, to stop seeing this confident, fearless woman so frightened.

“Ginny,” Draco whispered, moving closer. “Ginny, wake up. You’re just dreaming.”

He reached out and touched her shoulder, gently nudging her. But instead of slowly waking up, she flew out of her sleep, a hand automatically reaching out to shove him away. He ended up sprawled on the floor, coughing as he felt remembered pain from falling onto the rock ledge.

“Draco! I’m so sorry,” Ginny said, scrambling out of the bed. “You scared me.”

“You were screaming and moaning in your sleep—and not the good kind,” Draco said, rubbing his chest. “You really are strong.”

“I play Quidditch for a living,” she said, helping him into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s recall our day, shall we?” He eased himself into a standing position. “I came to Dubai. We checked into the hotel. The two of us went on a carpet ride. Oh and did I mention I fell off the carpet?”

“This was your idea,” Ginny said. She straightened the sheets on her bed before climbing in. “Sit. You shouldn’t be standing so long after your fall.”

“Which one?” he joked.

“Sorry,” she said, patting his leg. “You’ll survive though.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not the one who fell,” she said, slipping her legs under the covers.

“You did fall, but that was not what I was questioning.” He pointed to her sweat soaked shirt. “You were having nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”

“These were a little different,” she said quietly. “But I’m fine.”

“I’ll leave then,” Draco said, moving to get off the bed.

“Wait,” Ginny said, gripping his arm. She released him, sliding down under the covers and resting her head on the pillow. “I was in the Chamber, and Harry didn’t come. But you were there, and you were trying to save me. The Basilisk came and ki—he—I’m glad you’re okay.”

He propped his back against the headboard, his body parallel to hers. Looking down at her, he smiled. “I’m from the house of snakes, Ginny. It doesn’t matter how big and scary the snake looks, I’m not dying from a snake bite.”

“You probably have the same poison in your veins,” she said, her voice wavering.

“There’s a good chance,” he said. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “At least you didn’t dream of falling.”

She was quiet for a moment, and he opened his eyes to see her gazing up at him. Her brown eyes shimmered under the dim moonlight, and she placed a palm against his leg. He could feel her body heat through his pajama pants.

“You scared me today,” she whispered. She shook her head. “When I landed on you and rolled over, you weren’t responding and barely breathing. Not to mention the bruises everywhere across your body.”

“It’s over now,” Draco said.

“Draco, can I ask you a favor?” She looked down at her pillow, refusing eye contact. “I know that we have our boundaries, but can you stay here tonight? Or I can stay in your room and sleep on the sofa? I would even sleep on the floor. Just don’t leave me to those nightmares again, not the ones about —well, you know.”

“I’ll stay,” Draco said, his entire body tense.

“I can sleep on the floor or sofa,” Ginny offered.

“Quiet,” Draco said. He slipped under the covers, resting his head on one of the plush pillows. “Go to sleep.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, moving closer to him. He could feel her breath on his ear. “I will never go on another magic carpet.”

“Yes, you like things between your legs,” he said quietly.

“You really don’t stay down for long,” Ginny said with a smile.

“I assure you that I stay up as long as you need me to,” Draco said with a suggestive twinkle in his eye. “After all, I am a gentleman and strongly believe ladies come first.”

“If you’re good enough, they will,” Ginny said, giggling. “We are a perverted pair.”

“It’s hard to think about anything but sex when your tits are on such lovely display for me,” Draco said, looking down at the camisole that clung to her breasts in a delectable manner. “They are rather distracting.”

“You and my breasts,” Ginny sighed.

“That could be a song,” Draco said.

Ginny shifted her body around before settling on her side, facing Draco. “Are you alright? Mentally, not physically.”

“You’re the one having nightmares,” Draco said. He turned his head to the side, looking into concerned brown eyes. “Yes, I will heal and be fine. For now, let’s try and get some rest before the sun comes up.”

“Goodnight, Draco.”

Draco looked down at the redhead, her eyes closing. He had an overwhelming urge to cradle her to him, to tell her that he would make sure nothing ever harmed her. It wasn’t a foreign feeling. He had felt it the previous night when Marcus attempted to have a conversation with her, and it had clawed at him many times before—especially considering the overzealous fans, who often sent her inappropriate letters and attempted to stalk her. Her vulnerability, which she rarely showed him, fueled a desire to constantly be around her and guarantee her safety. It wasn’t a foreign feeling of late, but it was a feeling he had never before experienced until Ginevra Weasley.

“Goodnight, Ginny.”

Draco was in the perfect idea of hell. The air was humid. The heat was unbearable. There were flying bugs everywhere, including in his hair. The ground was wet and muddy, and every now again a short downpour would have them hiding under large leafy trees. It was most definitely a perfect Malfoy hell, and the mastermind behind his visit to hell was one Ginny Weasley.

“Stop being such a spoil sport.” The redhead in question turned around, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “This is going to be fun.”

“Fun?” Draco glared at her. “Fun is going to a Quidditch match and getting pissed with your friends. This, Weasley, is the complete opposite of fun.”

“Your bucket list adventure had us fall off a magic carpet and almost killed you,” Ginny said, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“We’ve all gone camping before at all the World Cups. What is so special about camping?” Draco followed behind her, batting away the bugs in his face.

“The adventure is in the fact that we threw darts at a map and let chance pick the location,” Ginny said, shoving leafy plants out their way. She pulled out her wand, resting it on her palm. “Point me.”

“What is so special about the Amazon?” Draco stopped in a clearing, pulling a bottle of water out of his backpack. “Is this even safe?”

“Of course it is,” Ginny said. “We’re not in the Muggle part of the Amazon. There are witches and wizards who patrol the area, and I know the signal to call for help. Besides, I picked a camping spot less than twenty kilometers away from the nearest little town.”

“So why exactly have we been hiking through the jungle for three hours? Why not go to the town then go to our camping spot?” Draco pulled out his wand and did a quick Scourigify on himself. The spell was weak, a side effect from the natural magic in the earth. “We had to pick a place the dampens magic.”

“Where is your sense of adventure?” asked Ginny.

“I lost it over the Persian Gulf,” Draco said. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, frowning. He’d spent years perfecting the art of never breaking a sweat, but after three hours he could fill tubs full of perspiration. “I feel disgusting.”

“Stop whining,” Ginny said. She took a swig of her water. “It’s an adventure.”

“The only nice part of this adventure is that you chose to wear a white shirt,” Draco said. He had been enjoying the fact that Ginny’s sweat made her white shirt useless at covering her body. “Green is a very nice color on you.”

“Maybe you would enjoy this more if you stopped distracting yourself with my breasts,” Ginny said exasperatedly. She placed her hand on her hips. “Is this why you keep making us stop? So you can eye me up?”

“Listen, your white shirt coupled with your lacy bra has afforded me a lovely view,” Draco said with a smirk. “If I’m stuck in hell, I might as well have something nice to look at.”

“You really are obsessed with them.” She hoisted her pack on her back. “Are we ready to keep moving?”

“I was fine with staying in Dubai for another week,” Draco said.

“You wanted this,” Ginny said. “I spent the last week flying broken magic carpets, crashing cars, and riding camels that smell worst than all of my brothers after a Quidditch match in July, all because you put them on your silly list.”

“The food was excellent, and you spent almost every afternoon getting massages,” Draco pointed out. “You weren’t complaining then.”

“Well, after spending an afternoon out in the desert, a massage and a soak in the tub was the only thing lifting my spirits,” Ginny said. Her wand spun in a circle on her hand. “Now let’s get moving.”

“So this weather is preferable?” asked Draco.

“The only wine I like is a nice Bordeaux,” Ginny quipped. “Now, come on.”

They hiked a few more kilometers before reaching a small shack on the river. Three little boys were running around, waving sticks and pretending to be injured by fake spells. Close by, a woman was kneeling in a garden, tending to some herbal plants. Behind the shack, a few boats were lined up, tied to a pole on the land. Draco couldn’t help but to picture Hagrid, the groundskeeper.

“Hello, hello.” A man stuck his head out of the door of the shack. “Welcome to the Amazon!”

“Hi,” Ginny said, shaking his hand.

“You must be Ms. Weasley? I am Paulo.” He kissed her hand. “The letter did not tell me I would be in the presence of such a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, smiling.

Draco cleared his throat. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” he said. “Welcome, welcome. Come have a seat while I explain the boat ride to you. I’ll have Maria fix us something to eat.”

“We wouldn’t want to be a bother,” Ginny said, shaking her head.

“Not a problem.” The woman stood from the garden, brushing off her dress. “We like visitors. I just picked some fresh mangoes this morning.”

“That would be lovely,” Ginny said.

She nodded. “I will be right back. Paulo set up the table out back.”

“Yes, Maria,” Paulo said. He motioned to Draco and Ginny. “Follow me. We’ll sit alongside the river. Boys, I’ll be watching you.”

“Yes, papa,” the three boys chimed.

Draco and Ginny followed Paulo behind the shack where there was a table sitting against the wooden structure. Paulo removed his wand and levitated the table to a crop of trees right along the river. He did the same with four wooden chairs before disappearing inside. When he came back out, he had a porcelain jug and four glasses precariously balanced in his arms.

“Come, sit.” Paulo smiled at them, waving his hand at the seats.

Draco thought the man was overly friendly, but Ginny kept pinching his arm whenever he tried to say something. “You said you had to explain the boats.”

“Ah, yes,” Paulo said. He poured them a light pink juice. “Fresh guava juice. It will cool you off.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, sipping it lightly. She poked Draco. “Try it.”

He wrinkled his nose and removed water from his pack. “I’m fine with water.”

“It is very good, Mr. Malfoy,” Paulo said.

Draco sighed, wincing as Ginny stepped on his foot under the table. “I will try.”

“Better,” Ginny said.

Paulo grinned. “My Maria was a lot like you when she was younger, Ms. Weasley. I’ve learned that it is always better to listen, Mr. Malfoy. The consequence of not listening is an earful of—“

“Yes, Paulo?” Maria stood behind him with four plates and a large bowl. “You are saying?”

“I was telling these lovely people how beautiful, kind, and caring my Maria is,” Paulo said, grinning at his wife. “Come sit, my love.”

“Men,” Maria said, setting the plates down. “I am sure you have your handful with him, Ms. Weasley.”

“Oh no,” Ginny said, blushing. “We’re not together. I mean we are here together, obviously, but not together, together—dating I mean.”

Maria smiled softly, resting a hand on Paulo’s shoulder. “Of course. I did not mean to assume.”

“After your trek in the Amazon, we will see if things do not change,” Paulo said. He looked up at his wife, holding her hand. “The jungle can have an effect on people. We say it is the earth, the magic of nature. The earth is a natural creator, and she likes to bring people together, creating new bonds—fostering and nurturing trust. The beauty of the magic in this soil is what keeps me from moving to the cities. I was created in this jungle. My marriage was formed and nurtured in this jungle. My children were created in this jungle, and perhaps one day their children will be as well.”

“That’s lovely,” Ginny said.

“You never know what the earth has in store for you when you take a journey through the Amazon,” Paulo said. He helped himself to some of the mango. “Now let us talk about your trip.”

“Did our itinerary reach here?” asked Ginny. “Is there a map we need of the river?”

“You will have a map, yes. But the boats are run on the magical energy in the Amazon. The reason you were referred to me is because I am the best at getting people through their journeys without losing them.” Paulo smiled. “I can read the magical energy of the boats and warp it as I see fit. Your boat has been enchanted to take you to the falls outside of the Ponte Negra area.”

“Is that Muggle or magical?” asked Ginny.

“You will be close to a city of witches and wizards only,” Paulo said. “There is also a Muggle city on the Ponte Negra beach, but they cannot pass the magical barriers that prevent them from exploring the magical community.”

“Will we run into Muggles?” asked Draco. He was wary of using magic if there was a chance of running across any Muggles.

“No, they do not venture out in the area you are heading. They consider it dangerous,” Paulo said. He shrugged. “It is the only way to preserve the beauty of our home.”

“Is there a danger to its safety?” asked Ginny.

“Muggles are overzealous in their exploration,” Maria said.

Paulo nodded in agreement. “The boat will stop at a large tree, and you can anchor it there. It will stay until you come back for it. You can then hike to the waterfalls where you plan on camping. When you’re ready, just go back to the boat. It will return you to me.”

“What if we need to alter the route or something?” asked Draco. He picked at a piece of mango. “Can it avoid dangers in the river?”

“It is safe, Mr. Malfoy,” Paulo said. “You do not have to worry. I have several wards on the boat that warn me if you are in danger.”

“That’s good,” Ginny said. “Our magic doesn’t work very well here.”

“The natural magic is not familiar with you yet,” Paulo said. “It will take a day before the dampening effect recedes, and your spells return to normal strength. Your body has to get used to the core of magic in the forest.”

Draco thought that Paolo was relying too much on the ‘natural magic,’ but he didn’t feel like offending an entire culture of people—not at this moment. The entire story of the effect of the forest on people seemed like rubbish to him, even if Ginny was completely enraptured by the tale. It was the kind of story you told tourists or your children, ones who were easily fooled and enchanted.

“Now it looks like your partner is ready, Ms. Weasley,” Paulo said. “Let me show you to your boat.”

The boat was a plain wooden row boat, the kind that they used at Hogwarts. It swayed as they stepped in, and Paulo showed them where emergency supplies were as well as the rope to tie it up. He also showed them a small booklet that had spells to change the direction of the boat, but he preferred they did not try and use them.

Paulo untied the rope. “Have fun, and enjoy my Amazon.”

The boat drifted into the water, rocking with the current of the strong tides. Draco always enjoyed boats, and it was one of the things he missed about the boat rides up to Hogwarts. The motion was relaxing, soothing, and after a week in close quarters with Ginevra Weasley, he could use a soothing moment.

After extending their stay in Dubai so he could heal from his fall, Draco had spent four out of six nights sleeping in Ginny’s room. All four nights, he woke up to find her warm body draped across his, but he had been the perfect gentleman. He didn’t touch her, although she did not keep the same boundary. Her hair would tickle his neck, her lips pressed to his bicep. He could feel every inch of her against him, and she slept peacefully without nightmares.

“It’s beautiful.” Ginny turned and looked back at him, resting her chin against her shoulder. “Are you tired? If you would come do a few more workouts with me, you would be in better shape.”

“Waking up at six in the morning never held appeal for me.” Draco pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pack. “I don’t know why you do it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, my job maybe?” Ginny laughed, throwing her head back to catch the sun’s rays on her face. “It becomes routine after awhile.”

Draco put on his sunglasses and took an apple out of his bag. “Do you need one?”

“I’m fine for now.” Ginny opened the map Paulo had left on the boat for them. “According to this map, we should be at the spot in a forty minutes.”

“And then what terrible thing do you have on the agenda next?” Draco bit into the apple, picking at the stem. “Are you planning on swimming in bug infested waters or hike through a rocky mountain pass?”

“Oh the dramatics,” Ginny said. She shook her head. “It’s a short hike to a clearing. We’ll set up our tents, put up some wards, and then we can head to the waterfalls. They’re supposedly some of the most beautiful waterfalls in the Amazon, a hidden gem.”

“Sounds like you got that from a brochure,” Draco said.

“That’s what Paulo told Lillian,” Ginny said. “So just try and enjoy it. You don’t come camping in the Amazon everyday.”

“That’s why this is a bucket list activity,” Draco drawled.

“Well, let’s enjoy what little free time I have left before season starts,” Ginny said. She sighed. “The coaches are getting overbearing.”

“They think you’re going to be a bid for the national team,” Draco said plainly. “They’re going to cycle out Chasers from the national team soon. It makes sense. You’re one of the best Chasers in the league.”

“And I have to take all the pressure with it,” Ginny said. She sighed, putting on her sunglasses. “The press, the events, the games, and feeling like I have to carry a team.”

“You play your position and help your team,” Draco said. He tapped her on the back to get her to look at him. “You attend the events, and you get your team the proper publicity. At the end of the season, you head to the Quidditch World Cup, and you play for your country. Take that pressure and use it.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Ginny said. She turned and faced him. “I guess its new season jitters all over again.”

“If you lose and fail, I will buy a vineyard, and we can drink it dry,” Draco suggested.

“You really do know me well,” Ginny said, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. “Speaking of which, I have a surprise for us tonight.”

“What would that be?” asked Draco.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you,” Ginny said. She smiled, dipping her head forward. “You’ll enjoy it though.”

“And will you?” he drawled, eyes still hidden behind his glasses.

“You’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~

Four hours later, they were in the clearing, setting up wards to block out people and large animals. The hike up had been terrible. More than once, Ginny slipped and stumbled. Draco was massaging aching biceps from having to catch her and prevent concussions. He had never been the most adept student at healing spells and only mastered the basics.

“Alright, the falls is a short hike that way,” she said, pointing to a patch of trees. “Ready?”

“For the next torture?” Draco pointed at her arms. “Don’t you think you have enough scratches?”

“No,” Ginny said. “I could use a few more.”

“Maybe next time I won’t catch you when you fall,” Draco said.

“Come on. I packed a really nice swimsuit for the occasion,” Ginny said in a singsong tone. “You’ll get to ogle at me for at least an hour.”

“Now you made things interesting,” Draco said.

“You’re such a pervert,” Ginny said with a shake of her head. “Let’s go.”

They traveled through the brush, the trees, and down a rocky path that caused both Draco and Ginny to slide one or two times. Finally, they reached a flat, soft-soiled area. The sound of rushing water reached their ears, and the air turned crisp with the smell of moisture. They rounded a copse of trees, and the cascade of water awed even Draco. It looked like a shimmering pearl curtain that ended in a pool of dark water, surrounded by the green grass and trees.

“I could use a cool dip,” Ginny said.

Draco turned to look at her right as she shimmied out of her pants. Her shirt was next, and Draco had a full view of all that was Ginevra Weasley. Her body was bare for him in a turquoise two-piece, and he realized just how lovely she was. Cream skin dotted with a few freckles, her back arched as she pinned her hair into a makeshift bun. She turned and looked at him with a smile on her face.

“Do you like?”

“It’s nice,” he said with a shrug.

“Of course. Now off with your clothes, Mr. Malfoy,” Ginny said.

“So that’s why you brought me here. You want to see me naked,” Draco said. He pulled his shirt off, smirking. “Have your fill, Ms. Weasley.”

Ginny laughed and jumped into the water, surfacing with a smile. “This is fantastic.”

Draco followed soon after, shivering at the cold temperature. “It’s freezing.”

“Stop being such a baby,” Ginny said. She swam around. “You’re never going to experience this again.”

“Who says I won’t come back?” asked Draco.

“Paulo and Maria had a nice story. It was sweet. You can clearly tell he’s head over heels for her, and she feels likewise,” Ginny said, lazily swimming. After a beat of silence, Ginny cleared her throat. “Did you ever wonder why we never took this any further?”

Draco moved to one of the rock formations close to the waterfall. “Took it further how?”

“Sex,” Ginny said. She swam towards him. “That night in Germany, you stopped me.”

“You remember that night?” Draco stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“I remembered the next morning,” Ginny said. She sighed. “I initiated it, and you told me to stop. I listened. But I never understood.”

“I shag women six days a week, Ginny. Usually, we’re both drinking, and I am sloshed. I can only assume that I didn’t want that night in Germany to be like a drunken shag.” Draco hoisted himself up on the rocks and pulled Ginny up after him. She tried to move to sit next to him, and he held her close. “Is that why you avoided me for two weeks after Germany?”

“My ego was little bruised,” Ginny said. She grinned. “I mean, I did have half your Slytherin class chasing after me. But you were apparently unattainable.”

“I have high standards,” Draco said haughtily.

“I do as well,” Ginny replied. She pressed herself against him. “I’ve slept in a bed with you Draco Malfoy, and I know that you are not as restrained as you pretend to be around me.”

Draco smiled. “A man can only restrain himself so much when you insist on wearing tiny shorts to bed.”

“It’s what I like to sleep in,” Ginny said.

“No, it’s what you like to tease me in,” Draco said. “You weren’t wearing it the first night.”

Ginny laughed. “Maybe I was trying to give you a hint.”

“What are you hinting at, Ginny?” Draco held her arm tightly to keep her from moving off his lap.

“Do you ever wonder why we never made anything out of our blind date?” Ginny kicked her feet in the water, making circles. “We were stubborn, I guess.”

“Yes, stubborn and Weasley.” Draco wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her closer. “What are you saying, Ginny? Why now?”

“The nightmares,” Ginny said. “I lied. They started changing months ago, right before Germany. I could barely sleep, knowing that every night when I put my head down you would die.”

“A little morbid,” Draco said.

“I haven’t seriously dated someone in a year, only mindless shags to release all the tension you leave me with,” Ginny said. She sighed. “I’m laying myself bare to you, Draco.”

“And what do you want, Ginevra?” Draco’s body was still.

“I don’t know. Is it silly? We’ve known each other for two years,” Ginny said. “Two years of spending more time with you than with my family. Two years of Sunday coffee and making fun of other girls. Two years of shagging other people but being there in the morning with you. Am I completely insane? Is this wrong? Am I wrong? Should I just stop whi—“

Draco spun her in his lap to straddle him. “Ginny?”

“Yes?” she asked, her breath hitching.

“Be quiet.”

He touched his lips to hers, his hands sliding down to cup her bum. He pulled her against him, pressing her breasts against his body. Her arms wrapped around him, and their lips moved together, hands roaming, exploring. Her lips were soft and supple, delicious. He nipped at them, sliding his lips against hers. He didn’t slip his tongue past her lips, but her moan of frustration made him smile into her kiss.

“Are you going to stop talking now?”

She nodded.

Draco splayed his hands on her lower back, his fingers enjoying the creamy skin he had been admiring since she had taken her clothes off. “You’re not wrong.”

“What does this mean?” asked Ginny, toying with his hair. “Do we go on a date? That sounds absurd.”

“We go back to our tent. We open your surprise bottle of scotch. We have a few drinks and eat the horrible premade food you brought.” One of his hands moved to her stomach, trailing up between the valley of her breasts. “And after, we play a game of cards. Strip poker, perhaps. From there, well, Ms. Weasley, use your imagination.”

“How would you rate your bucket list experience thus far?” asked Ginny, smiling and pressing her forehead against his.

“I think I’ve thought of a new list to make,” Draco said thoughtfully. He gave her a devilish grin, his hand moving from her breasts to the string that kept her bikini on. “But I do have one question before we can start making our new list.”

“And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy?” questioned Ginny, shivering under his touch.

“How flexible are you, Ms. Weasley?”

Ginny laughed, throwing her head back. “Something tells me you intend on finding out.”