When they returned home later that afternoon, Draco was loaded down with purchases and Ginny's arms were free. One shop turned in to two and eventually Draco found his arms were laden with the different things he urged her to buy. In the beginning she'd been hesitant to spend the money; however, upon reaching the third or fourth shop she'd stopped arguing. Draco knew she would look at the prices and if it were too outrageous she'd put it aside. What she didn't know was that he planned on returning later in the week to pick up some of the things she pushed to the side.
His favorite item, of course, were the knickers in the pink bag hanging from his left hand. Ginny had been looking for pyjamas, but Draco thought it was perfectly normal for a husband to pick out knickers for his wife. After she went to the clerk to pay, he added several things to the pile. She hadn't protested, but after leaving the shop, she'd refused to look at him. Draco also noticed the tips of her ears were a curious (adorable) shade of red.
When they set ou,t he thought she would only consent to a ring marking their engagement. They both agreed the Malfoy heirloom was horrendous and should only be carted out on special occasions, so he'd taken her to the only jeweler he knew in Diagon Alley. Draco intended to stay in the background, letting her pick out the ring. Only Ginny wouldn't hear of it. The entire time they were in the store - nearly an hour - she'd kept her arm tucked into his, pulling him along.
In the end, Draco, not Ginny, hand-picked the ring she would wear. She hadn't seen it at first, but from the first moment, Draco knew it was perfect for her. Simple and understated, he could visualize the ring on her left hand. The initial band was white gold but the jeweler had no problem setting it in platinum to match their wedding bands. Set in the middle of two diamonds was a modest black pearl. It wasn't a typical engagement ring, but that was one of the reasons he liked it. Later he would shower her with diamonds and precious jewels, but for this Draco wanted something simple. He wanted something that wasn't about the amount of money he'd spent, but the feeling he put in it.
As for the redhead, she was intrigued by anything her husband selected. Secretly, she wanted the engagement ring to have some sentimental value and was thrilled that Draco found something they both liked. Once he'd slipped the ring on her finger, it was not taken off again. When they exited the store, her hand was tucked inside of his, the cool metal resting against his palm.
"If you'll take the bags in my room, I'll get out of your way."
Draco followed behind her and placed the bags on her bed. He turned and smiled at her. "Anything else?"
"No, I'll leave you be for now."
Stepping forward, Draco took her hand in his. He slipped her new ring on and off her finger. "Why don't you take a bath, change clothes, and we'll go out for dinner?"
"We could eat here," she suggested. "We just got home, after all."
"I know. However, I'm selfish. I need every wizard in Britain to know I'm the lucky bastard married to you."
Ginny laughed and pulled her hand from his. "Are you sure? I could make dinner."
"You can do that tomorrow. Tonight why don't you and I put on our best robes and go out on the town?"
"Draco—"
"Shhh," he quieted her by placing a finger over her lips. "No protests. It'll be fun, I promise."
She didn't need any more convincing, quickly pushing him out of her bedroom. "Give me an hour?" she requested at the doorway.
He nodded. "That'll give me time to answer any owls we received." Draco turned away from her then and Ginny closed the door behind him.
Draco turned right, instead of left, and went to the living room. He lay across the leather sofa and draped an arm over his eyes.
What was he doing?
The previous night he'd all but decided he would be horrible to her, thus preventing any kind of attachment on either side. Yet today, Draco was quickly finding he had no control over his actions. He'd been completely out of control since the restaurant when she'd pushed her food aside, leaned forward, and started listening so intently to him.
At that moment, he knew she was actually listening to him. Ginny wanted to hear what he had to say, clearly fascinated with his family history. The rational part of his brain told him that she was playing the part of an interested wife, but he had to believe that wasn't all. When they were out earlier, neither of them had been acting. Their actions and words were genuine. Still, he wasn't completely convinced. Perhaps it was the Malfoy in him, but Draco wouldn't allow himself to believe it was love. It couldn't be love.
As far as the public was concerned they were very in love and happily married. Before leaving earlier he'd been a bit worried if they could pull it off – but from the looks they received in Diagon Alley, they were fooling everyone. Including themselves.
And the underwear… dear Merlin, he'd seen the black, lacey scrap of fabric and couldn't resist. In his mind, he could clearly see his wife standing in front of him in nothing but her knickers, unashamed of her body. His body had instantly reacted. So much so that he'd ducked into the loo at their next stop and carefully adjusted himself.
What's more, Draco knew he'd genuinely enjoyed himself the entire afternoon. Shopping was usually a task. His mother would specify the type and style of robe he needed, he'd send his measurements to Madam Malkin along with any directions, and several days later a package would arrive from the dressmaker. With Ginny, though, Draco found he enjoyed the languid pace they set - they ventured in and out of various shops along Diagon Alley, sometimes spending less than five minutes, but other times spending almost an hour. He would mostly stand in the background, answering any questions she directed towards him. Draco discovered he enjoyed pampering her.
Which was reason enough to stop. This marriage wasn't about love and happiness, as convincing they as they seemed to be. It was about beating his father and helping Professor Snape and Dumbledore. And once those things were accomplished, they would part. Maybe as friends, but maybe not. The point was he'd have to let her go. He'd promised himself he would let her go. So falling arse over elbows in love now did nothing to help him in the future. Draco knew as each day passed, he was in more danger with Ginny Weasley. He'd loved her before, but if something happened and the dynamic of their marriage changed, he wasn't sure he'd be able to let her go.
When she finished her shower and dressed, Draco had moved himself into the study. He was sitting at the desk, his white-blond hair falling in his eyes as he answered whatever owls that arrived while they were out. Ginny watched him work for a few minutes before clearing her throat and making herself known. "Can I come in?"
Draco looked up, his silver eyes instantly running up and down her body. Her hair was still wet, and she was wrapped inside a newly purchased house robe. She would obviously need longer than an hour to dress. "Yes."
Ginny shifted uncomfortably, aware of her appearance. "You never said where we'd have dinner, so I thought I'd ask before I dressed."
He held up a piece of parchment. "I think our plans might have changed a bit, if that's okay."
"You want to stay in?" The redhead knew she sounded too hopeful.
"No. But Mum has invited us to the Manor for dinner. Do you mind?"
Her shoulders fell, which Draco took as disappointment. "That's fine. What should I wear then?"
"The gray robes," he immediately suggested. Those had been his favorite. "And your hair down. Mum likes long hair." Draco thought for a moment before adding, "What if you and I were to get drinks someplace in town first before Apparating over?"
The redhead glanced at the wall clock. "Do we have time?"
"She's expecting us at eight. It's only six-thirty. We should make it. What do you say?"
"Alright. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready."
When she disappeared, Draco took out a fresh piece of parchment. Expect us at 8, he wrote. He rolled the parchment up and handed it to his mother's owl, Artemis. "Take this to Mum, okay?"
The owl hooted softly before flying out the open window. Draco put the rest of his work up and went to wait for his wife in the living room.
Draco and Ginny arrived at the exclusive club shortly after seven. He was wearing black dress robes, his hair clean and soft, containing no gel. He looked every bit the part of the Malfoy heir. This club always had a steady stream of paparazzi outside and Draco wasn't completely surprised when reporters began to immediately snap pictures of them. Being the dutiful husband, he wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her closer to his body.
She was wearing the gray dress robes he'd suggested, and her hair was done in loose spirals that cascaded down her back. When she'd reappeared at the flat, he'd lost is breath for a moment – she was still the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen.
"Hey, Malfoy!" a reporter called to him.
Draco turned his head in the direction and nudged Ginny to do the same. They both smiled, knowing the picture would likely appear in the Daily Prophet the next morning. Her arm wound around his waist and Ginny pressed her body closer to his.
Right before the picture was taken, Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Are you wearing the knickers I bought for you?"
It was that moment when Draco decided Ginny Weasley had been sorted into the wrong house all those years ago. If she wasn't a Slytherin, he wasn't a Malfoy. Because when she rubbed herself against him and said, "I'm not wearing any," he almost died.
What's more, the kiss she laid on him afterwards was hot enough to melt ice. He was doomed. Everything he'd been trying to convince himself meant nothing. Draco wanted this woman. He wanted the redheaded sex goddess – his wife. And was that her tongue?
It was! That was her sweet tasting tongue in his mouth! What had he done to deserve this, he wondered.
She broke the kiss and reached up to wipe the lipstick from his mouth. This vixen smiled prettily at him and asked, "Are we going in?"
His favorite item, of course, were the knickers in the pink bag hanging from his left hand. Ginny had been looking for pyjamas, but Draco thought it was perfectly normal for a husband to pick out knickers for his wife. After she went to the clerk to pay, he added several things to the pile. She hadn't protested, but after leaving the shop, she'd refused to look at him. Draco also noticed the tips of her ears were a curious (adorable) shade of red.
When they set ou,t he thought she would only consent to a ring marking their engagement. They both agreed the Malfoy heirloom was horrendous and should only be carted out on special occasions, so he'd taken her to the only jeweler he knew in Diagon Alley. Draco intended to stay in the background, letting her pick out the ring. Only Ginny wouldn't hear of it. The entire time they were in the store - nearly an hour - she'd kept her arm tucked into his, pulling him along.
In the end, Draco, not Ginny, hand-picked the ring she would wear. She hadn't seen it at first, but from the first moment, Draco knew it was perfect for her. Simple and understated, he could visualize the ring on her left hand. The initial band was white gold but the jeweler had no problem setting it in platinum to match their wedding bands. Set in the middle of two diamonds was a modest black pearl. It wasn't a typical engagement ring, but that was one of the reasons he liked it. Later he would shower her with diamonds and precious jewels, but for this Draco wanted something simple. He wanted something that wasn't about the amount of money he'd spent, but the feeling he put in it.
As for the redhead, she was intrigued by anything her husband selected. Secretly, she wanted the engagement ring to have some sentimental value and was thrilled that Draco found something they both liked. Once he'd slipped the ring on her finger, it was not taken off again. When they exited the store, her hand was tucked inside of his, the cool metal resting against his palm.
"If you'll take the bags in my room, I'll get out of your way."
Draco followed behind her and placed the bags on her bed. He turned and smiled at her. "Anything else?"
"No, I'll leave you be for now."
Stepping forward, Draco took her hand in his. He slipped her new ring on and off her finger. "Why don't you take a bath, change clothes, and we'll go out for dinner?"
"We could eat here," she suggested. "We just got home, after all."
"I know. However, I'm selfish. I need every wizard in Britain to know I'm the lucky bastard married to you."
Ginny laughed and pulled her hand from his. "Are you sure? I could make dinner."
"You can do that tomorrow. Tonight why don't you and I put on our best robes and go out on the town?"
"Draco—"
"Shhh," he quieted her by placing a finger over her lips. "No protests. It'll be fun, I promise."
She didn't need any more convincing, quickly pushing him out of her bedroom. "Give me an hour?" she requested at the doorway.
He nodded. "That'll give me time to answer any owls we received." Draco turned away from her then and Ginny closed the door behind him.
Draco turned right, instead of left, and went to the living room. He lay across the leather sofa and draped an arm over his eyes.
What was he doing?
The previous night he'd all but decided he would be horrible to her, thus preventing any kind of attachment on either side. Yet today, Draco was quickly finding he had no control over his actions. He'd been completely out of control since the restaurant when she'd pushed her food aside, leaned forward, and started listening so intently to him.
At that moment, he knew she was actually listening to him. Ginny wanted to hear what he had to say, clearly fascinated with his family history. The rational part of his brain told him that she was playing the part of an interested wife, but he had to believe that wasn't all. When they were out earlier, neither of them had been acting. Their actions and words were genuine. Still, he wasn't completely convinced. Perhaps it was the Malfoy in him, but Draco wouldn't allow himself to believe it was love. It couldn't be love.
As far as the public was concerned they were very in love and happily married. Before leaving earlier he'd been a bit worried if they could pull it off – but from the looks they received in Diagon Alley, they were fooling everyone. Including themselves.
And the underwear… dear Merlin, he'd seen the black, lacey scrap of fabric and couldn't resist. In his mind, he could clearly see his wife standing in front of him in nothing but her knickers, unashamed of her body. His body had instantly reacted. So much so that he'd ducked into the loo at their next stop and carefully adjusted himself.
What's more, Draco knew he'd genuinely enjoyed himself the entire afternoon. Shopping was usually a task. His mother would specify the type and style of robe he needed, he'd send his measurements to Madam Malkin along with any directions, and several days later a package would arrive from the dressmaker. With Ginny, though, Draco found he enjoyed the languid pace they set - they ventured in and out of various shops along Diagon Alley, sometimes spending less than five minutes, but other times spending almost an hour. He would mostly stand in the background, answering any questions she directed towards him. Draco discovered he enjoyed pampering her.
Which was reason enough to stop. This marriage wasn't about love and happiness, as convincing they as they seemed to be. It was about beating his father and helping Professor Snape and Dumbledore. And once those things were accomplished, they would part. Maybe as friends, but maybe not. The point was he'd have to let her go. He'd promised himself he would let her go. So falling arse over elbows in love now did nothing to help him in the future. Draco knew as each day passed, he was in more danger with Ginny Weasley. He'd loved her before, but if something happened and the dynamic of their marriage changed, he wasn't sure he'd be able to let her go.
When she finished her shower and dressed, Draco had moved himself into the study. He was sitting at the desk, his white-blond hair falling in his eyes as he answered whatever owls that arrived while they were out. Ginny watched him work for a few minutes before clearing her throat and making herself known. "Can I come in?"
Draco looked up, his silver eyes instantly running up and down her body. Her hair was still wet, and she was wrapped inside a newly purchased house robe. She would obviously need longer than an hour to dress. "Yes."
Ginny shifted uncomfortably, aware of her appearance. "You never said where we'd have dinner, so I thought I'd ask before I dressed."
He held up a piece of parchment. "I think our plans might have changed a bit, if that's okay."
"You want to stay in?" The redhead knew she sounded too hopeful.
"No. But Mum has invited us to the Manor for dinner. Do you mind?"
Her shoulders fell, which Draco took as disappointment. "That's fine. What should I wear then?"
"The gray robes," he immediately suggested. Those had been his favorite. "And your hair down. Mum likes long hair." Draco thought for a moment before adding, "What if you and I were to get drinks someplace in town first before Apparating over?"
The redhead glanced at the wall clock. "Do we have time?"
"She's expecting us at eight. It's only six-thirty. We should make it. What do you say?"
"Alright. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready."
When she disappeared, Draco took out a fresh piece of parchment. Expect us at 8, he wrote. He rolled the parchment up and handed it to his mother's owl, Artemis. "Take this to Mum, okay?"
The owl hooted softly before flying out the open window. Draco put the rest of his work up and went to wait for his wife in the living room.
Draco and Ginny arrived at the exclusive club shortly after seven. He was wearing black dress robes, his hair clean and soft, containing no gel. He looked every bit the part of the Malfoy heir. This club always had a steady stream of paparazzi outside and Draco wasn't completely surprised when reporters began to immediately snap pictures of them. Being the dutiful husband, he wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her closer to his body.
She was wearing the gray dress robes he'd suggested, and her hair was done in loose spirals that cascaded down her back. When she'd reappeared at the flat, he'd lost is breath for a moment – she was still the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen.
"Hey, Malfoy!" a reporter called to him.
Draco turned his head in the direction and nudged Ginny to do the same. They both smiled, knowing the picture would likely appear in the Daily Prophet the next morning. Her arm wound around his waist and Ginny pressed her body closer to his.
Right before the picture was taken, Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Are you wearing the knickers I bought for you?"
It was that moment when Draco decided Ginny Weasley had been sorted into the wrong house all those years ago. If she wasn't a Slytherin, he wasn't a Malfoy. Because when she rubbed herself against him and said, "I'm not wearing any," he almost died.
What's more, the kiss she laid on him afterwards was hot enough to melt ice. He was doomed. Everything he'd been trying to convince himself meant nothing. Draco wanted this woman. He wanted the redheaded sex goddess – his wife. And was that her tongue?
It was! That was her sweet tasting tongue in his mouth! What had he done to deserve this, he wondered.
She broke the kiss and reached up to wipe the lipstick from his mouth. This vixen smiled prettily at him and asked, "Are we going in?"
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