Jumper by ClanMalfoy
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A/N: This Initiateverse futurefic is dedicated to the lovely Kirixchi, who asked me for a one-shot.
Disclaimer: Draco doesn't belong to me, he belongs to Ginny. And JKR.
~*~
"Master Draco. Master Draco!"
Draco sat bolt upright in bed, startled awake at the quiet yet insistent voice that was calling his name. A brief look at the clock told him that he'd been asleep for only an hour before this little interruption, whose name was ...
"Dobby," he said very slowly and quietly, as not to wake the sleeping form lying next to him. "What are you doing in here at one o'clock in the morning?"
"So sorry, Master Draco," the tiny form standing before him said, "but there has been a summons."
Cursing, the tall, pale young man wrenched himself from the warmth of the covers and threw on a dressing gown before rushing toward the workroom, and the only Floo-enabled fireplace in the house.
After conversing with its occupant, he returned to the bedroom, and dressed quietly in the dark. He clothed himself in black from top to bottom, and only after pulling on his workrobes did he turn his attention to the other person in the room.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hating his need to wake her, but knowing how upset she'd be if she woke up to an unexpectedly empty bed. "Ginny?" he said, brushing the hair away from her face. "Gin, wake up."
Her eyes cracked open, the barest hint of consciousness behind them. "What? What is it?" she said as awareness of her surroundings flooded into her brain .. that Draco was fully dressed and had woken her up in the middle of the night. That could mean only one thing.
"I've been called in."
"I should go too," Ginny replied, raising herself up on her elbows and pulling her knees up to swing her legs out of bed. She was prevented from doing so by the presence of a strong arm.
"They'll just send you home, love," he reminded her. "You might as well remain cozy."
She sat up so that she could hug him properly, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "You be careful," she whispered harshly.
The moment he felt her relax against him, he captured her lips with his own for a kiss full of love and unspoken promises .. I'll be all right .. I'll be back as soon as I can .. I'll be careful.
It always happened this way. This wasn't the first time that he'd been pulled out of her bed by the demands of their chosen career, and he was certain, as he stepped into their workroom and Apparated to the Ministry, that it would not be the last before Gin completed her own training and would be summoned as well.
He never let himself consider that those moments in the dark might be the last that they had.
~*~
Ginny heard the pop of Apparation, and sank down to her pillows. She tried to close her eyes and succumb to the darkness and the pull of sleep, but her heart's triphammer rhythm interfered, and she remained awake, staring up at the organza draped across the posts of her bed.
She knew too much .. too much, and at the same time, not enough.
She had intimate knowledge of what danger he was in, thanks to the training she'd received over the past two years. She knew that there was always the chance that something could go very, very wrong, and that he could be hurt, seriously hurt, or .. or ..
She couldn't bear to think of that.
It wasn't the danger that she feared; if that were the case she'd never have gone into Auror Studies in the first place. She looked forward to the day when she would get the call, to go and fight against the Dark - its tiny tendrils that were seeking to push into the soil of Wizarding Britain, take root, and grow into the next Le Fay. The next Grindelwald. The next Voldemort.
She hated, despaired of, raged against this helplessness she felt. She wanted to be there with her fellow Order members and friends, to add her wandpower to theirs, to show the Dark that it had not won when she was eleven and certainly had not won now. And instead she was lying in bed, not knowing if he was fine, or if he was hurt, or ..
Merlin's blood, she was not going to stay in bed any longer!
She pushed herself out of the nest of bedcovers, and crossed to her closet. By the weakest wandlight, she rummaged around to find a pair of pyjama pants to dress in. Then she reached down to the shelf where her jumpers resided, and not entirely steady fingers pushed aside some of her softer, warmer options for one jumper she knew by touch.
She took a deep breath as she pulled it over her head and onto quickly-cooling skin. Fortified by its presence on her body, she headed downstairs as the clock chimed two to see if she could marshal enough forces to vanquish a pot of hot chocolate.
Ginny found some solace in its creation - melting the chocolate slowly, pouring the milk into the pot and watching the two liquids combine, making patterns in the mixture with the wooden spoon. By the time the chocolate was ready to drink, her heart had slowed, and her hands were steady. All the same, she knew that there would be no sleep for her, not until he had returned.
She resolved to spend these extra waking hours usefully. She took her pot of chocolate into the den, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and picking up one of her work texts - Medical Potions for the Active Witch and Wizard - in order to catch up on her reading. She settled herself, her chocolate, and her book on the settee directly across from the warmth of the flames. As she tucked her bare feet under her, she pulled the throw that resided on the back of the seat across her shoulders.
Ginny smiled. The blanket had been a housewarming present from Pansy. It was a lovely square of cashmere - very elegant, very soft, very green, very expensive. So utterly Pansy that Ginny had laughed upon opening it, and couldn't hold back a grin whenever she remembered the day that it had been given to her.
Pansy had turned out to be such a dear friend, and if it weren't for the fact that she had reached her confinement, the first baby Longbottom since Neville's own birth due any day, any hour now, Gin would have flooed her by now. Except that Pansy needed all the sleep that she could get .. and with the baby's imminent arrival, Neville probably wouldn't have been summoned tonight.
Ginny was in no hurry to rush down that road. Each time she held a niece or nephew or friend's newborn baby in her hands, her thoughts rushed back to the chaos that was growing up in the Weasley household .. of being the youngest and only girl of seven. She would coo over the infant in her arms and then hand him or her back to proud parents, able to give heartfelt congratulations without a trace of envy or jealousy.
It was a fact that absolutely infuriated her mother - who'd gotten a taste of grandparenting from Bill and Fleur, and who would now not rest until she had twenty-four more - and, she suspected, relieved Draco to no end.
Merlin defend him, she thought silently, knuckles turning white as she grasped the book in her hands more securely and tried not to think of where she wasn't. Pleasant distraction had only drawn her thoughts back to him. It was time to concentrate on something that be of use to someone, at some point in the future.
~*~
Draco was perplexed to discover, upon his return at the earliest moments of daybreak, that his girlfriend had deserted the bedroom they'd shared since the moment of his father's ridiculous temper tantrum. Hadn't he told her to stay where she was?
He checked the workroom; the only occupant, of course, being Dobby, asleep in the little corner that Gin insisted she make nice for him. He still couldn't comprehend that she had such respect for the creature, but at least she didn't openly harbour the same tendencies as that Muggleborn know-it-all she called friend.
Leaving Dobby to dream whatever dreams house-elves enjoyed (socks, perhaps?), he made his way downstairs to check the dining room and the kitchen. He found evidence of what his superior Auror analyzing skills told him was hot chocolate on the stove, so he headed to the last room in the house he'd checked.
He got as far as the doorway to the den when he found her. She was curled up on the settee, swaddled in Pansy's blanket, the Medical Potions text clenched in her hands, a look of determination on her sleeping face.
"I thought I told you to stay in bed," he said.
"Happy here," the form on the sofa mumbled, obviously still half-asleep.
Smirking, he ticked off the seconds in his mind until his words got through to her consciousness. He had barely gotten past "five" before he had arms full of very tired, very happy girlfriend.
"And where did you get that, may I ask?" he asked in a tone of injured righteousness.
"Get what?" Ginny's voice was muffled, her head nuzzled against his neck.
"My Quidditch jumper!"
"Oh. Nicked it." she said unrepentantly. She was too busy mauling his neck, he decided, to be properly contrite.
"And I see that you didn't even save me any chocolate. I expect you to make proper amends for all of your transgressions, woman."
Ginny pulled back slowly, so that she could take a proper look at him. "Well, that will obviously have to wait, as it's now .." - she checked the clock - "six thirty, and I at least am expected at the Ministry for eight."
The smirk turned distinctly predatory. "Indeed not. My darling cousin Nymphadora asked me to tell you that classes are canceled today, due to all the instructors being out all night." Ginny's cheeks pinked under his gaze. "Amends."
"And what's your idea of proper compensation for damages?" she asked, a smile on her lips, eyes lambent.
"First you're going to take a look at the bruise that I'm sure by now is marring the perfect skin on my shoulder. Then I expect some of that hot chocolate you so cruelly drank without me. And then," his voice dropped to a deliciously low growl, "I expect you to get back into that bed, where I suggested you stay in the first place, and give me back my damn jumper."
Disclaimer: Draco doesn't belong to me, he belongs to Ginny. And JKR.
"Master Draco. Master Draco!"
Draco sat bolt upright in bed, startled awake at the quiet yet insistent voice that was calling his name. A brief look at the clock told him that he'd been asleep for only an hour before this little interruption, whose name was ...
"Dobby," he said very slowly and quietly, as not to wake the sleeping form lying next to him. "What are you doing in here at one o'clock in the morning?"
"So sorry, Master Draco," the tiny form standing before him said, "but there has been a summons."
Cursing, the tall, pale young man wrenched himself from the warmth of the covers and threw on a dressing gown before rushing toward the workroom, and the only Floo-enabled fireplace in the house.
After conversing with its occupant, he returned to the bedroom, and dressed quietly in the dark. He clothed himself in black from top to bottom, and only after pulling on his workrobes did he turn his attention to the other person in the room.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hating his need to wake her, but knowing how upset she'd be if she woke up to an unexpectedly empty bed. "Ginny?" he said, brushing the hair away from her face. "Gin, wake up."
Her eyes cracked open, the barest hint of consciousness behind them. "What? What is it?" she said as awareness of her surroundings flooded into her brain .. that Draco was fully dressed and had woken her up in the middle of the night. That could mean only one thing.
"I've been called in."
"I should go too," Ginny replied, raising herself up on her elbows and pulling her knees up to swing her legs out of bed. She was prevented from doing so by the presence of a strong arm.
"They'll just send you home, love," he reminded her. "You might as well remain cozy."
She sat up so that she could hug him properly, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "You be careful," she whispered harshly.
The moment he felt her relax against him, he captured her lips with his own for a kiss full of love and unspoken promises .. I'll be all right .. I'll be back as soon as I can .. I'll be careful.
It always happened this way. This wasn't the first time that he'd been pulled out of her bed by the demands of their chosen career, and he was certain, as he stepped into their workroom and Apparated to the Ministry, that it would not be the last before Gin completed her own training and would be summoned as well.
He never let himself consider that those moments in the dark might be the last that they had.
Ginny heard the pop of Apparation, and sank down to her pillows. She tried to close her eyes and succumb to the darkness and the pull of sleep, but her heart's triphammer rhythm interfered, and she remained awake, staring up at the organza draped across the posts of her bed.
She knew too much .. too much, and at the same time, not enough.
She had intimate knowledge of what danger he was in, thanks to the training she'd received over the past two years. She knew that there was always the chance that something could go very, very wrong, and that he could be hurt, seriously hurt, or .. or ..
She couldn't bear to think of that.
It wasn't the danger that she feared; if that were the case she'd never have gone into Auror Studies in the first place. She looked forward to the day when she would get the call, to go and fight against the Dark - its tiny tendrils that were seeking to push into the soil of Wizarding Britain, take root, and grow into the next Le Fay. The next Grindelwald. The next Voldemort.
She hated, despaired of, raged against this helplessness she felt. She wanted to be there with her fellow Order members and friends, to add her wandpower to theirs, to show the Dark that it had not won when she was eleven and certainly had not won now. And instead she was lying in bed, not knowing if he was fine, or if he was hurt, or ..
Merlin's blood, she was not going to stay in bed any longer!
She pushed herself out of the nest of bedcovers, and crossed to her closet. By the weakest wandlight, she rummaged around to find a pair of pyjama pants to dress in. Then she reached down to the shelf where her jumpers resided, and not entirely steady fingers pushed aside some of her softer, warmer options for one jumper she knew by touch.
She took a deep breath as she pulled it over her head and onto quickly-cooling skin. Fortified by its presence on her body, she headed downstairs as the clock chimed two to see if she could marshal enough forces to vanquish a pot of hot chocolate.
Ginny found some solace in its creation - melting the chocolate slowly, pouring the milk into the pot and watching the two liquids combine, making patterns in the mixture with the wooden spoon. By the time the chocolate was ready to drink, her heart had slowed, and her hands were steady. All the same, she knew that there would be no sleep for her, not until he had returned.
She resolved to spend these extra waking hours usefully. She took her pot of chocolate into the den, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and picking up one of her work texts - Medical Potions for the Active Witch and Wizard - in order to catch up on her reading. She settled herself, her chocolate, and her book on the settee directly across from the warmth of the flames. As she tucked her bare feet under her, she pulled the throw that resided on the back of the seat across her shoulders.
Ginny smiled. The blanket had been a housewarming present from Pansy. It was a lovely square of cashmere - very elegant, very soft, very green, very expensive. So utterly Pansy that Ginny had laughed upon opening it, and couldn't hold back a grin whenever she remembered the day that it had been given to her.
Pansy had turned out to be such a dear friend, and if it weren't for the fact that she had reached her confinement, the first baby Longbottom since Neville's own birth due any day, any hour now, Gin would have flooed her by now. Except that Pansy needed all the sleep that she could get .. and with the baby's imminent arrival, Neville probably wouldn't have been summoned tonight.
Ginny was in no hurry to rush down that road. Each time she held a niece or nephew or friend's newborn baby in her hands, her thoughts rushed back to the chaos that was growing up in the Weasley household .. of being the youngest and only girl of seven. She would coo over the infant in her arms and then hand him or her back to proud parents, able to give heartfelt congratulations without a trace of envy or jealousy.
It was a fact that absolutely infuriated her mother - who'd gotten a taste of grandparenting from Bill and Fleur, and who would now not rest until she had twenty-four more - and, she suspected, relieved Draco to no end.
Merlin defend him, she thought silently, knuckles turning white as she grasped the book in her hands more securely and tried not to think of where she wasn't. Pleasant distraction had only drawn her thoughts back to him. It was time to concentrate on something that be of use to someone, at some point in the future.
Draco was perplexed to discover, upon his return at the earliest moments of daybreak, that his girlfriend had deserted the bedroom they'd shared since the moment of his father's ridiculous temper tantrum. Hadn't he told her to stay where she was?
He checked the workroom; the only occupant, of course, being Dobby, asleep in the little corner that Gin insisted she make nice for him. He still couldn't comprehend that she had such respect for the creature, but at least she didn't openly harbour the same tendencies as that Muggleborn know-it-all she called friend.
Leaving Dobby to dream whatever dreams house-elves enjoyed (socks, perhaps?), he made his way downstairs to check the dining room and the kitchen. He found evidence of what his superior Auror analyzing skills told him was hot chocolate on the stove, so he headed to the last room in the house he'd checked.
He got as far as the doorway to the den when he found her. She was curled up on the settee, swaddled in Pansy's blanket, the Medical Potions text clenched in her hands, a look of determination on her sleeping face.
"I thought I told you to stay in bed," he said.
"Happy here," the form on the sofa mumbled, obviously still half-asleep.
Smirking, he ticked off the seconds in his mind until his words got through to her consciousness. He had barely gotten past "five" before he had arms full of very tired, very happy girlfriend.
"And where did you get that, may I ask?" he asked in a tone of injured righteousness.
"Get what?" Ginny's voice was muffled, her head nuzzled against his neck.
"My Quidditch jumper!"
"Oh. Nicked it." she said unrepentantly. She was too busy mauling his neck, he decided, to be properly contrite.
"And I see that you didn't even save me any chocolate. I expect you to make proper amends for all of your transgressions, woman."
Ginny pulled back slowly, so that she could take a proper look at him. "Well, that will obviously have to wait, as it's now .." - she checked the clock - "six thirty, and I at least am expected at the Ministry for eight."
The smirk turned distinctly predatory. "Indeed not. My darling cousin Nymphadora asked me to tell you that classes are canceled today, due to all the instructors being out all night." Ginny's cheeks pinked under his gaze. "Amends."
"And what's your idea of proper compensation for damages?" she asked, a smile on her lips, eyes lambent.
"First you're going to take a look at the bruise that I'm sure by now is marring the perfect skin on my shoulder. Then I expect some of that hot chocolate you so cruelly drank without me. And then," his voice dropped to a deliciously low growl, "I expect you to get back into that bed, where I suggested you stay in the first place, and give me back my damn jumper."
The End.
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