Chapter Five :: Prelude to a Kiss
Ginny took a deep breath to steady herself before flooing to her parents’ house. When she arrived, the first thing she smelled was the tantalizing scent of her Mum’s famous chocolate chip cookies. She followed her nose into the kitchen, where Molly greeted her with a hug.
“I’ve been wondering when you were going to pay us a visit,” Molly said, watching Ginny reach for a cookie and take a bite. “Especially with all of the articles about you in the Prophet as of late.” Ginny nearly choked on her cookie.
“There’s been more than one?”
“Don’t you ever read it, dear?” Ginny shook her head, and Molly clucked her tongue. She reached into a pocket of her apron and withdrew the latest copy of the Prophet, and handed it to her daughter. “Turn to the society page.”
Ginny did as she was told, and when she saw the photo of Blaise pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, she began to feel lightheaded. She read the story beneath the photo, and immediately her temper flared.
“It says here that I change men like I change my socks!” she snapped, furious. “And they’ve – oh, no they didn’t – they called me a tart!” Molly hid her smile as she cleared her throat.
“Well, you’ve got to look at it from their perspective, darling. After all, your divorce is barely finalized, and you’ve already been seen with two different men,” she paused for a moment, and then sat down at the table next to Ginny.
“Go ahead and ask me,” Ginny sighed, dropping the paper in disgust.
“I wasn’t going to, but I’ve got to admit that I’m worried about you. What in the world are you doing going to parties at the Malfoy home? You haven’t become wrapped up in anything you ought not to be, have you?”
Ginny’s jaw hung loose a bit before she answered. “No, Mum, I haven’t. I went to the parties for Neville – he and Pansy go, and he needed someone to talk to.”
“And… the men?” her mother prompted.
“A fringe benefit,” Ginny retorted airily. Molly frowned.
“If you need to talk about what happened-“
“No, Mum, I really don’t. I know how much everyone loves Harry, and I know how much everyone loves Hermione. Well, now everyone can love them together.”
“Ginevra Weasley Potter,” Molly reprimanded, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “It’s true that we love both of them as if they were our own children, but they’re not, and you are. Don’t you dare insinuate for one moment that we care more about them and their welfare than we do about yours.”
Tears sprung to Ginny’s eyes, and she bowed her head in shame, properly chastised. “I was worried.”
“About what? Surely you didn’t believe that we’d choose them over you!” Molly’s cheeks were pink. “I can’t say that I approve of the way you’ve been behaving as of late, but it’s your life, and if this is how you’re working through what happened, then so be it.”
“Mum, you’re amazing. Has anyone told you that lately?” Ginny asked, smiling through the tears that blurred her vision. Molly tried to hide her pleased expression by harrumphing and rose from her seat.
“I can’t imagine that anyone wouldn’t do the same for their only daughter,” she said, pulling another batch of cookies from the oven. “Now tell me about your new fellow.”
“He’s not my fellow,” Ginny said, wiping the tears from her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “I only went out on one date with him, and that was two nights ago.”
“What was wrong with him?” Molly asked, half-turning to look at her daughter.
“Turns out he’s extremely rude and arrogant when in public.” She shrugged as her Mum sighed. “He was so rude to the waitress at the restaurant we went to that I got up and left halfway through dinner.”
“And the first one you dated?”
“After we went for dinner, he tried to grope me.”
“I hope you gave him what for,” Molly said, her eyes flashing at the thought of anyone manhandling her daughter.
“I slapped him,” Ginny admitted, taking the glass of milk her mother offered her.
“Is there going to be another party, then?” Molly asked.
“There’s one tonight. My invitation came just before I came over here.” She was silent for a few moments before she cleared her throat. “Mum… how’s the rest of the family taking my divorce?”
“Well, Ron is understandably upset.” Ginny’s heart sank. “After all, Harry and Hermione were his best friends, and he’s terribly angry at the both of them for this treachery.” Ginny’s eyes shot up to meet her mother’s.
“You mean he’s not… he’s not mad at me?”
“What in the world for?” Molly asked, sounding bewildered. “You weren’t the one who had an affair! Really, Ginevra, do you think this badly of your family?”
“No,” Ginny sighed, relieved. “And everyone else?”
“Your father was heartbroken, I can tell you that much. He so wanted you to be happy, and to have his grandchildren.”
“My life isn’t over yet, Mum. I can still have children.”
“Not without being married first, I hope,” Molly huffed.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage,” Ginny answered softly.
“You just didn’t marry the right man, is all,” her Mum consoled her. “When the right one comes, you’ll know, and you’ll be so happy it will be unbearable.”
“I don’t know if there is a right man for me.”
“He’s out there somewhere, dear. You can’t lose hope. Besides, if you’re not interested in remarrying, why do you bother with dating?”
“Dating is fun – it’s the easy part. It’s the commitment that I can’t handle.”
Molly eyed her daughter thoughtfully. “Don’t let one man shake your faith in all of them. Not all men are so weak willed – just look at your father.”
Ginny smiled. “Not all men are like Dad.”
“And not all men are like Harry, either.”
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Ginny rolled her mother’s words over in her mind repeatedly as she prepared for the party. She pinned her hair up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck before slipping into her dress. Tonight it was to be a periwinkle frock, off the shoulders and with a flared skirt – perfect for dancing, she thought.
She strapped on a matching pair of shoes that looked very nearly like ballet slippers, and wrapped her robe around herself. Once at the party and her robe put away, she found Neville immediately. He gave a low whistle when she did a twirl for him.
“You’re going to break some hearts tonight,” he said, smiling. She rolled her eyes. “Got anyone in your sights yet?”
“No,” she said, glancing around. Neville handed her a drink, which she sipped from as she surveyed the room. “Wait – where’s Pansy?”
“Dancing with our host,” he said, nodding towards the dance floor. Ginny sought them out. When her eyes located the immaculately groomed white-blonde hair, her grip on her glass tightened.
While it was true that she’d never thought Draco Malfoy to be particularly attractive, she had to admit that there was something about him –something almost magnetic, if she had to choose a word. There was something that automatically drew every eye in the place to him, whether male or female.
And as she watched him dance, something slithered through her. The way his hips moved against Pansy’s as they moved to the latin rhythm; the way his arms held her just so – it was enough to make desire pool in her stomach, and it surprised her.
She realized with a start that it had been nearly three weeks before they’d parted since Harry had touched her. Well then, it was no wonder that watching the erotic dancing on the floor was making her feel needy, was it? She smiled to herself as she took another drink.
Neville, who had been watching Ginny carefully, shook his head. Pansy had mentioned something last week about Draco being interested in Ginny, and since that night, he’d heard nothing but how they needed to be brought together. He’d told Pansy repeatedly that Ginny would never hold any sort of interest in the Malfoy heir.
He was much chagrined to see that Ginny looked very interested, after all.
“Now, why isn’t a lovely lady like yourself out on the dance floor?” Ginny turned and tried to quell her first reaction to the man, which was to gag.
“Derrick,” she managed, forcing a smile. “How lovely to see you again. You’re looking… well.”
“I’ve been playing professional Quidditch for Kenmare for about two years now,” he said proudly. His smile was filled with holes from missing teeth, and it was all Ginny could do not to flinch.
“Let me guess – you’re a Beater.”
“How did you know?”
“You were a Beater for the Slytherin team,” she said, reaching for another glass of alcohol as a house elf passed with a tray of them. Derrick looked pleased.
“Would you-“
“Begging your pardon,” someone interrupted. Ginny turned at the sound of Draco’s voice. “Evening - Derrick, Longbottom. I hope you won’t mind if I borrow your lady friend for a few moments?”
Derrick looked crestfallen, and Neville shook his head, careful to keep his expression neutral. Ginny looked entirely relieved, and handed her drink to Neville as Malfoy led her onto the dance floor.
When he wrapped his arms around her, her breath caught in her throat. “Thank you for that.”
“For what?” he asked calmly.
“For that rescue,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I think he was about to ask me to dance, and there was no one I’d have enjoyed it less with.”
“Even me?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Even you,” she affirmed, moving with him.
“You seem very open to male suitors,” he said, spinning her with ease. “Why should he be any different?”
“He’s not my type,” she said flatly.
“Oh? And what is your type, exactly? Because if you’re looking around here for a hero with a heart of gold, you’re in the wrong place. You’ve more chance of encountering the fallen Dark Lord here.” She froze in his arms and glared at him through narrowed eyes.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” she hissed. “Looking for a replacement for Harry?”
“Aren’t you?” He dropped his arms, oblivious to the growing number of people who were staring at them.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “And how dare you even suggest such a thing.”
“This is my home, I’ll suggest what I like,” he said, his voice cold. He put his arms around her again and began moving with her. “And I suggest you dance until the song is over – we’ve attracted quite the audience.”
She flushed with embarrassment and put her hands on his shoulders. “You know, I thought you’d changed since school, but I can see that I was very much mistaken.”
“Isn’t that nice,” he said, sounding uninterested.
“You’re infuriating!” she snapped.
“And yet you keep accepting my invitations. Why is that, do you think?”
“Why do you keep inviting me?” she fired back. “You hate my ex husband, and you hate me. Yet this is the third time I’ve been here. Why?”
“Why not?” he asked, sounding bored. “Surely you don’t think it’s because I have any vested interest in you?”
“Of course not,” she said, ignoring the heat that rose to her cheeks. “Now if you’ll excuse me, the dance is over, and I need to make a trip to the loo. Kindly point me in that direction.”
“Down the hall, fifth door on the right.” He held her for a moment longer, waiting until she met his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then thought better of it and clamped his lips together. She stared after him in confusion before turning and heading into the bathroom.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
“So, who did Ginny dance with last night?” Pansy asked, rolling over and draping her arm over Neville’s bare chest. He groaned and shook his head.
“You know bloody fucking well who she danced with, you evil witch,” he mumbled, enjoying the feel of her fingernails raking lightly down his skin.
“Yes, but I like it better when you tell me that I was right,” she purred.
“You were right. There, happy now?”
“Did you see them dancing?”
“Yes, I watched the whole debacle.”
“Debacle?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that they seemed to be getting on fine, until about halfway through their dance, when they broke apart and stood in the middle of the floor, snapping at each other. When they’d finished dancing, Gin was livid. She made it a point to dance with every man that asked her.”
“And Draco? What did he do?”
“He danced with nearly every other woman in the room.”
“They were just trying to make each other jealous, you know,” she said, giving him a knowing smile as she laid back down. “I don’t know why they’re fighting it so hard. The mutual attraction is obvious.”
“I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right. She turned a pretty shade of red when he asked her to dance.”
“Is that so?” The wheels in Pansy’s mind began to turn rapidly. “Do you have plans for tonight, love?”
“No, why?” he asked cautiously. He knew what that note in her voice meant – she was scheming again.
“I think we ought to have a little dinner party.”
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Ginny removed her cloak and handed it to Pansy, who eyed her outfit. “What? I thought Neville said I could dress comfortably,” she protested.
“You look fine,” Neville reassured her, wrapping her in a quick hug. She glanced down at her tight (but comfortable) jeans and her snug, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.
“Well, once our other guest arrives, we’ll begin dinner,” Pansy said, unable to contain the amusement in her voice. Ginny shot Neville a look and mouthed the words, “other guest?” Before he could do more than give her a helpless look and shrug his shoulders, a noise sounded, signaling someone’s apparition.
“Well, well, I wondered why Parkinson had invited me over,” he drawled. Ginny stiffened with her back turned to him. “And now I know. Evening, Weasley.”
“Evening,” she returned, forcing her voice to stay level. She leveled a glare at Neville, who cleared his throat.
“I think I’d better go see what’s keeping Pansy,” he said, excusing himself from the room. Draco strode forward and sat the bottle of wine he’d brought on the table.
“Interesting ensemble,” he observed.
“Bugger off,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her temper faltered for the briefest of moments as she took in his casual appearance. He, too, was wearing jeans, paired with a short-sleeved royal blue t-shirt.
“No thanks,” he replied, smirking at the telltale blush that rose to her cheeks. “Maybe later, if you’re up to it.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“You arrogant, self-absorbed-“
“Better watch it,” he cautioned. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”
“Oh!” she growled, stomping her foot petulantly. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met!”
“You left out handsome, intelligent, and amazing dancer,” he corrected her, glancing around at his surroundings.
“Right,” she snapped, rolling her eyes.
“Not much of a place, is it? Barely habitable. But I suppose you’re used to it – your flat probably looks exactly the same, doesn’t it?”
“As if you’d ever see the inside of my flat,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.
“Was that an invitation?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Absolutely not!” she said, looking horrified.
“You know what I think?” he drawled, stepping closer to her. She took a step backward, and then another, and another, until she was backed up against the table and he was standing so close that she could smell the mint on his breath. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming to my parties and going out with these random men that you don’t even know.”
“What do you care?” she snapped, her pulse racing and her adrenaline beginning to flow.
“I don’t. Just don’t think you’re going to work your way through all of my friends and then try me on for size, because it won’t happen.”
“Don’t flatter yourself - I’d never even considered it!”
“I’m not flattering myself, kitten,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. “I’m just telling you like it is.”
“Get away from me,” she whispered, her eyes focused on his parted lips. “Now.”
“Or you’ll do what?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Something I’ll regret,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.
“Oh?” he sounded interested, and then his eyes went cold at the threat. “Just try it.”
Anger surged through her at his dismissal, and she propelled herself forward, pressing her mouth to his.
Ginny took a deep breath to steady herself before flooing to her parents’ house. When she arrived, the first thing she smelled was the tantalizing scent of her Mum’s famous chocolate chip cookies. She followed her nose into the kitchen, where Molly greeted her with a hug.
“I’ve been wondering when you were going to pay us a visit,” Molly said, watching Ginny reach for a cookie and take a bite. “Especially with all of the articles about you in the Prophet as of late.” Ginny nearly choked on her cookie.
“There’s been more than one?”
“Don’t you ever read it, dear?” Ginny shook her head, and Molly clucked her tongue. She reached into a pocket of her apron and withdrew the latest copy of the Prophet, and handed it to her daughter. “Turn to the society page.”
Ginny did as she was told, and when she saw the photo of Blaise pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, she began to feel lightheaded. She read the story beneath the photo, and immediately her temper flared.
“It says here that I change men like I change my socks!” she snapped, furious. “And they’ve – oh, no they didn’t – they called me a tart!” Molly hid her smile as she cleared her throat.
“Well, you’ve got to look at it from their perspective, darling. After all, your divorce is barely finalized, and you’ve already been seen with two different men,” she paused for a moment, and then sat down at the table next to Ginny.
“Go ahead and ask me,” Ginny sighed, dropping the paper in disgust.
“I wasn’t going to, but I’ve got to admit that I’m worried about you. What in the world are you doing going to parties at the Malfoy home? You haven’t become wrapped up in anything you ought not to be, have you?”
Ginny’s jaw hung loose a bit before she answered. “No, Mum, I haven’t. I went to the parties for Neville – he and Pansy go, and he needed someone to talk to.”
“And… the men?” her mother prompted.
“A fringe benefit,” Ginny retorted airily. Molly frowned.
“If you need to talk about what happened-“
“No, Mum, I really don’t. I know how much everyone loves Harry, and I know how much everyone loves Hermione. Well, now everyone can love them together.”
“Ginevra Weasley Potter,” Molly reprimanded, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “It’s true that we love both of them as if they were our own children, but they’re not, and you are. Don’t you dare insinuate for one moment that we care more about them and their welfare than we do about yours.”
Tears sprung to Ginny’s eyes, and she bowed her head in shame, properly chastised. “I was worried.”
“About what? Surely you didn’t believe that we’d choose them over you!” Molly’s cheeks were pink. “I can’t say that I approve of the way you’ve been behaving as of late, but it’s your life, and if this is how you’re working through what happened, then so be it.”
“Mum, you’re amazing. Has anyone told you that lately?” Ginny asked, smiling through the tears that blurred her vision. Molly tried to hide her pleased expression by harrumphing and rose from her seat.
“I can’t imagine that anyone wouldn’t do the same for their only daughter,” she said, pulling another batch of cookies from the oven. “Now tell me about your new fellow.”
“He’s not my fellow,” Ginny said, wiping the tears from her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “I only went out on one date with him, and that was two nights ago.”
“What was wrong with him?” Molly asked, half-turning to look at her daughter.
“Turns out he’s extremely rude and arrogant when in public.” She shrugged as her Mum sighed. “He was so rude to the waitress at the restaurant we went to that I got up and left halfway through dinner.”
“And the first one you dated?”
“After we went for dinner, he tried to grope me.”
“I hope you gave him what for,” Molly said, her eyes flashing at the thought of anyone manhandling her daughter.
“I slapped him,” Ginny admitted, taking the glass of milk her mother offered her.
“Is there going to be another party, then?” Molly asked.
“There’s one tonight. My invitation came just before I came over here.” She was silent for a few moments before she cleared her throat. “Mum… how’s the rest of the family taking my divorce?”
“Well, Ron is understandably upset.” Ginny’s heart sank. “After all, Harry and Hermione were his best friends, and he’s terribly angry at the both of them for this treachery.” Ginny’s eyes shot up to meet her mother’s.
“You mean he’s not… he’s not mad at me?”
“What in the world for?” Molly asked, sounding bewildered. “You weren’t the one who had an affair! Really, Ginevra, do you think this badly of your family?”
“No,” Ginny sighed, relieved. “And everyone else?”
“Your father was heartbroken, I can tell you that much. He so wanted you to be happy, and to have his grandchildren.”
“My life isn’t over yet, Mum. I can still have children.”
“Not without being married first, I hope,” Molly huffed.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage,” Ginny answered softly.
“You just didn’t marry the right man, is all,” her Mum consoled her. “When the right one comes, you’ll know, and you’ll be so happy it will be unbearable.”
“I don’t know if there is a right man for me.”
“He’s out there somewhere, dear. You can’t lose hope. Besides, if you’re not interested in remarrying, why do you bother with dating?”
“Dating is fun – it’s the easy part. It’s the commitment that I can’t handle.”
Molly eyed her daughter thoughtfully. “Don’t let one man shake your faith in all of them. Not all men are so weak willed – just look at your father.”
Ginny smiled. “Not all men are like Dad.”
“And not all men are like Harry, either.”
Ginny rolled her mother’s words over in her mind repeatedly as she prepared for the party. She pinned her hair up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck before slipping into her dress. Tonight it was to be a periwinkle frock, off the shoulders and with a flared skirt – perfect for dancing, she thought.
She strapped on a matching pair of shoes that looked very nearly like ballet slippers, and wrapped her robe around herself. Once at the party and her robe put away, she found Neville immediately. He gave a low whistle when she did a twirl for him.
“You’re going to break some hearts tonight,” he said, smiling. She rolled her eyes. “Got anyone in your sights yet?”
“No,” she said, glancing around. Neville handed her a drink, which she sipped from as she surveyed the room. “Wait – where’s Pansy?”
“Dancing with our host,” he said, nodding towards the dance floor. Ginny sought them out. When her eyes located the immaculately groomed white-blonde hair, her grip on her glass tightened.
While it was true that she’d never thought Draco Malfoy to be particularly attractive, she had to admit that there was something about him –something almost magnetic, if she had to choose a word. There was something that automatically drew every eye in the place to him, whether male or female.
And as she watched him dance, something slithered through her. The way his hips moved against Pansy’s as they moved to the latin rhythm; the way his arms held her just so – it was enough to make desire pool in her stomach, and it surprised her.
She realized with a start that it had been nearly three weeks before they’d parted since Harry had touched her. Well then, it was no wonder that watching the erotic dancing on the floor was making her feel needy, was it? She smiled to herself as she took another drink.
Neville, who had been watching Ginny carefully, shook his head. Pansy had mentioned something last week about Draco being interested in Ginny, and since that night, he’d heard nothing but how they needed to be brought together. He’d told Pansy repeatedly that Ginny would never hold any sort of interest in the Malfoy heir.
He was much chagrined to see that Ginny looked very interested, after all.
“Now, why isn’t a lovely lady like yourself out on the dance floor?” Ginny turned and tried to quell her first reaction to the man, which was to gag.
“Derrick,” she managed, forcing a smile. “How lovely to see you again. You’re looking… well.”
“I’ve been playing professional Quidditch for Kenmare for about two years now,” he said proudly. His smile was filled with holes from missing teeth, and it was all Ginny could do not to flinch.
“Let me guess – you’re a Beater.”
“How did you know?”
“You were a Beater for the Slytherin team,” she said, reaching for another glass of alcohol as a house elf passed with a tray of them. Derrick looked pleased.
“Would you-“
“Begging your pardon,” someone interrupted. Ginny turned at the sound of Draco’s voice. “Evening - Derrick, Longbottom. I hope you won’t mind if I borrow your lady friend for a few moments?”
Derrick looked crestfallen, and Neville shook his head, careful to keep his expression neutral. Ginny looked entirely relieved, and handed her drink to Neville as Malfoy led her onto the dance floor.
When he wrapped his arms around her, her breath caught in her throat. “Thank you for that.”
“For what?” he asked calmly.
“For that rescue,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I think he was about to ask me to dance, and there was no one I’d have enjoyed it less with.”
“Even me?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Even you,” she affirmed, moving with him.
“You seem very open to male suitors,” he said, spinning her with ease. “Why should he be any different?”
“He’s not my type,” she said flatly.
“Oh? And what is your type, exactly? Because if you’re looking around here for a hero with a heart of gold, you’re in the wrong place. You’ve more chance of encountering the fallen Dark Lord here.” She froze in his arms and glared at him through narrowed eyes.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” she hissed. “Looking for a replacement for Harry?”
“Aren’t you?” He dropped his arms, oblivious to the growing number of people who were staring at them.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “And how dare you even suggest such a thing.”
“This is my home, I’ll suggest what I like,” he said, his voice cold. He put his arms around her again and began moving with her. “And I suggest you dance until the song is over – we’ve attracted quite the audience.”
She flushed with embarrassment and put her hands on his shoulders. “You know, I thought you’d changed since school, but I can see that I was very much mistaken.”
“Isn’t that nice,” he said, sounding uninterested.
“You’re infuriating!” she snapped.
“And yet you keep accepting my invitations. Why is that, do you think?”
“Why do you keep inviting me?” she fired back. “You hate my ex husband, and you hate me. Yet this is the third time I’ve been here. Why?”
“Why not?” he asked, sounding bored. “Surely you don’t think it’s because I have any vested interest in you?”
“Of course not,” she said, ignoring the heat that rose to her cheeks. “Now if you’ll excuse me, the dance is over, and I need to make a trip to the loo. Kindly point me in that direction.”
“Down the hall, fifth door on the right.” He held her for a moment longer, waiting until she met his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then thought better of it and clamped his lips together. She stared after him in confusion before turning and heading into the bathroom.
“So, who did Ginny dance with last night?” Pansy asked, rolling over and draping her arm over Neville’s bare chest. He groaned and shook his head.
“You know bloody fucking well who she danced with, you evil witch,” he mumbled, enjoying the feel of her fingernails raking lightly down his skin.
“Yes, but I like it better when you tell me that I was right,” she purred.
“You were right. There, happy now?”
“Did you see them dancing?”
“Yes, I watched the whole debacle.”
“Debacle?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that they seemed to be getting on fine, until about halfway through their dance, when they broke apart and stood in the middle of the floor, snapping at each other. When they’d finished dancing, Gin was livid. She made it a point to dance with every man that asked her.”
“And Draco? What did he do?”
“He danced with nearly every other woman in the room.”
“They were just trying to make each other jealous, you know,” she said, giving him a knowing smile as she laid back down. “I don’t know why they’re fighting it so hard. The mutual attraction is obvious.”
“I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right. She turned a pretty shade of red when he asked her to dance.”
“Is that so?” The wheels in Pansy’s mind began to turn rapidly. “Do you have plans for tonight, love?”
“No, why?” he asked cautiously. He knew what that note in her voice meant – she was scheming again.
“I think we ought to have a little dinner party.”
Ginny removed her cloak and handed it to Pansy, who eyed her outfit. “What? I thought Neville said I could dress comfortably,” she protested.
“You look fine,” Neville reassured her, wrapping her in a quick hug. She glanced down at her tight (but comfortable) jeans and her snug, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.
“Well, once our other guest arrives, we’ll begin dinner,” Pansy said, unable to contain the amusement in her voice. Ginny shot Neville a look and mouthed the words, “other guest?” Before he could do more than give her a helpless look and shrug his shoulders, a noise sounded, signaling someone’s apparition.
“Well, well, I wondered why Parkinson had invited me over,” he drawled. Ginny stiffened with her back turned to him. “And now I know. Evening, Weasley.”
“Evening,” she returned, forcing her voice to stay level. She leveled a glare at Neville, who cleared his throat.
“I think I’d better go see what’s keeping Pansy,” he said, excusing himself from the room. Draco strode forward and sat the bottle of wine he’d brought on the table.
“Interesting ensemble,” he observed.
“Bugger off,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her temper faltered for the briefest of moments as she took in his casual appearance. He, too, was wearing jeans, paired with a short-sleeved royal blue t-shirt.
“No thanks,” he replied, smirking at the telltale blush that rose to her cheeks. “Maybe later, if you’re up to it.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“You arrogant, self-absorbed-“
“Better watch it,” he cautioned. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”
“Oh!” she growled, stomping her foot petulantly. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met!”
“You left out handsome, intelligent, and amazing dancer,” he corrected her, glancing around at his surroundings.
“Right,” she snapped, rolling her eyes.
“Not much of a place, is it? Barely habitable. But I suppose you’re used to it – your flat probably looks exactly the same, doesn’t it?”
“As if you’d ever see the inside of my flat,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.
“Was that an invitation?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Absolutely not!” she said, looking horrified.
“You know what I think?” he drawled, stepping closer to her. She took a step backward, and then another, and another, until she was backed up against the table and he was standing so close that she could smell the mint on his breath. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming to my parties and going out with these random men that you don’t even know.”
“What do you care?” she snapped, her pulse racing and her adrenaline beginning to flow.
“I don’t. Just don’t think you’re going to work your way through all of my friends and then try me on for size, because it won’t happen.”
“Don’t flatter yourself - I’d never even considered it!”
“I’m not flattering myself, kitten,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. “I’m just telling you like it is.”
“Get away from me,” she whispered, her eyes focused on his parted lips. “Now.”
“Or you’ll do what?” he asked, clearly amused.
“Something I’ll regret,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.
“Oh?” he sounded interested, and then his eyes went cold at the threat. “Just try it.”
Anger surged through her at his dismissal, and she propelled herself forward, pressing her mouth to his.
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