Chapter 6 - Things More Unlikely
The sun was set and the air had grown cooler with an approaching storm when the old, red pickup truck finally came within sight of the lights of Ottery St. Catchpole. Ginny had dozed through the afternoon, but was awake now, feeling chilled through her limbs. Kevin and Lizzie both slept still, nestled down together in the bed of the truck, and the strange goat, Louisa, appeared to be napping as well. A couple kilometers from the village, the truck rattled to a stop.
"This is as close to ol' Ottery as I can take you," Abe called out from the cab. "I turn here to head on to Plymouth." Draco exited the cab and the other three climbed down out of the bed.
"Thank you, sir," said Ginny. "We will never, never forget your kindness. I wish there was something we could do to repay you." Abe waved his hand at her dismissively and smiled.
"Not at all, not at all," he replied. The four began to walk away.
"Oy, Red-head," Abe called in a soft, kind voice. Ginny turned back and approached the truck.
"I thought of something." There was a twinkle in Abe's eye. "That's your fellow, right?" he asked in a low tone, nodding his head toward Draco who was waiting with the Pullmans on the other side of the road.
"Er . . . well, he's not my . . ." Ginny abruptly clamped her mouth shut, frustrated at not being able to satisfactorily answer that question, even to herself. Abe laughed.
"Oh, young one, I've been there before. Denial never helps, no it does not. No, when you're in love, the only thing you can do is sing it out! Consequences be damned!"
"Um . . . did you say there was something I could do for you?" Ginny wanted the subject changed, and fast.
"Yes, yes," Abe replied, still smiling reminiscently. "Ah, right. I'd like you to do something for . . . Drake, was it? Or was it Dorko? Dooku? No, that can't be right . . ."
"Draco."
"Right, Draco. Just on the tip of my tongue it was. We had a nice talk up here. I got to know him a bit." Abe lowered his voice to a whisper. "Thing is, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, young Draco I noticed . . . he's a bit of a . . . well, he's a bit stuffy."
"Stuffy?"
Abe seemed reluctant to continue. "How to put this? He seems a bit . . . priggish. Hoity-toity. Fancies himself. Conceited. Arrogant. Bit of an ass-"
"You noticed?" Ginny interrupted with a grin.
"But the thing is, I think he's a right chap underneath. I wanted to tell you that. And I want you to take good care of the lad." Abe's lighthearted tone suddenly changed, becoming steely and serious. "He'll need you - it is crucial that you are there for him. It could mean everything."
Ginny was caught off-guard. "I'm sorry?" she asked. But the twinkle had come back into Abe's eye, and he only laughed.
"Ah, love," he said. "Wonderful, wonderful thing. Do you have a brother?"
"Er . . ." Ginny was again surprised by his sudden change of direction. "I have a few."
"I had a brother - best man I ever knew. I got in a spot of trouble once - wild days of my youth and all - but my brother stood by me the whole way. He may not have always approved of my . . . choices, but he always wanted me to be happy. That's the good of family, Red. Keep it in mind." And with a wink, Abe drove off, honking the horn once as he disappeared over a hill. Ginny shook her head, bewildered by the strange, strange Muggle.
"What was that about?" Draco asked as she approached her companions.
"Oh, he just wanted to wish us luck," Ginny said evasively. "Anyway, how was your ride? It looked like the two of you were getting awfully chummy up there."
Draco grunted.
"Are all Muggles that cracked?"
"Why? What did he say?"
"Daft old thing just rattled away the whole time. Talking about some woman nonstop. Their vacations, their spats, her favorite food - raw carrots, apparently - how they can't have children - I wanted to hex my own ears off at that point - just on and on and on with it. And get this - he named that goat after his woman." Draco laughed. "Imagine how honored his lady Louisa must feel to have a goat named after her - some romantic gesture."
Ginny, recalling the strangely intelligent look in the goat's eyes, wondered.
"The funniest part was that he tried to give me love advice! As if I needed help from a dried up old Muggle." Ginny couldn't think of a time when she'd seen Draco laugh harder.
"Well, he was awfully nice to give us a ride practically all the way back," she said.
"I suppose he was a decent sort - for a Muggle."
Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't comment.
"Well, the good news is that we are closer to the Burrow here than if we'd been driven all the way into Ottery St. Catchpole," Ginny said, addressing all three companions. "It's actually just over that hill."
Lizzie gave a little hop and clapped her hands. "We're going home! We're going home!" she squeaked. As they began walking in the direction of the Burrow, the Pullmans were full of animated chatter about flooing home and how glad their parents would be, and all the food they would eat. Ginny smiled at their excitement, feeling her own fluttering in her stomach. She glanced at Draco, who was walking slightly in front of her, his expression blank.
"You okay?" she asked, grazing his shoulder with her fingers.
"Fine," he said, smiling ruefully at her. "Just thinking about how comfortable my bed in Azkaban will be."
"That's not going to happen. It's just not!" Ginny suddenly felt angry - whether at him, or at the situation, or . . . she didn't know.
Wordlessly, Draco lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her knuckles, his gray eyes locked intently on hers. Then he turned away and continued walking. Ginny silently cursed anyone who would dare put him in Azkaban, and then cursed Draco for being himself, and ended with cursing herself for caring so much. A far away rumble of thunder greeted them as they crested the hill. All was darkness below.
Ginny could make out the silhouette of the broomshed as they passed it, and then the larger shape of the Burrow itself, shrouded in black.
Early for everyone to be in bed, she thought.
"Should we knock?" asked Kevin as they reached the door.
"No, key's here," Ginny replied, reaching under the mat.
"Original hiding place," Draco remarked.
"Stuff it."
Ginny unlocked the back door and the four of them slipped into the kitchen. The stillness of the house was absolute, and Ginny felt a wave of fear wash over her. Where was her family? Without waiting for the others, she rushed from room to room, panic spreading through her entire body as each continued empty. She ran up the stairs, and found that the bedrooms, too, were unoccupied.
"No one's here!" she exclaimed, returning to the kitchen, surprised at the shrillness in her voice. "Where are they?"
"Calm down, Ginny," Draco soothed. "It's okay."
"It's not okay. Where the hell is my family?"
"Maybe they went for a visit somewhere?" Kevin suggested.
"There's no sign of a struggle, Gin. They left on their own. Now where would they have gone?"
Ginny took a deep breath as Draco's words sunk in. No, there was no sign of a struggle. None of the telltale signs of a Death Eater attack. And there was no way her family would have gone down without one hell of a fight. There was only one place she could think of that her entire family would have gone to. A place that was in the complete opposite direction than they'd been traveling for so many days.
"I think I know where they'd be," she murmured. "We could floo there." The other three nodded their agreement. Ginny disappeared into the living room, only to return cursing like a sailor.
"Effing Circe and her whole effing barnyard! We . . . we're out of floo powder," Ginny held up the empty jar. She suddenly felt horribly ashamed of her family's poverty. Draco's family probably had large vats of floo powder stashed away at Malfoy Manor, she thought bitterly.
"What about brooms?" Draco asked, his voice calm.
"There are a bunch of old ones in the shed."
"Good. We can take them tomorrow. First thing."
"Why don't we just fly tonight?" asked Lizzie, her voice full of disappointment.
"It's not as safe. Dementors are far more active at night, and harder to spot. Plus, it's going to rain, and I'm not keen on traveling any distance in a thunderstorm."
Reluctantly, the other three had to agree with him.
"On the bright side, we get to sleep in real beds tonight, and I'll bet there's lots of good stuff to eat, right?" Kevin asked, trying to sound cheerful.
Ginny realized there was nothing to gain by worrying and forced herself to smile.
"Yes, let's find some food. I'm starving!"
Lighting a few of the candles in the kitchen so that they could see, the group of weary travelers rummaged through the cupboards and the icebox, pulling out all sorts of goodies. They made a pile in the middle of the table of breads, meats and cheeses and sat down to gorge themselves without bothering to take out plates or utensils. It was by far the best meal Ginny had ever had.
Finally, after the pile on the table had been significantly diminished, and Ginny had a powerful urge to unbutton her jeans in order to give her very full belly some breathing room, the four leaned back in their chairs, satisfied expressions all around.
"I love food," said Kevin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "All I need now is a hot bath and a soft bed."
"Oooh, a bath - youngest first!" said Lizzie. "Ginny, where's the bathroom?"
Ginny smiled lazily. "Upstairs, third door on the right." Lizzie raced up the stairs before Kevin had a chance to protest.
"Cheeky monster!" he called after her retreating form.
-----
Ginny was the last to shower and she stood under the hot water for a long time, feeling the dirt and grime and bone-deep weariness washing away down the drain. It was oddly anti-climactic, being once again surrounded by the familiarity of her home after all the horror and struggle she had endured. She was disappointed; the thought of seeing her family again had filled her waking dreams during the ride in the Muggle car, and when she had drifted into sleep in that comfortable straw-filled truck bed, it had been to dream of Harry.
But another part of her felt like she had been granted a reprieve, like she had one more second to gulp down air before she was plunged into too-deep water. It was a last night, for her, a last night before everything would change. Because once she was back in the folds of her family, there was no way things could continue as they had been. Whatever strange twist of fate that had brought together Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, this night it must be spent or it never would be.
She found him sitting at the kitchen table staring distractedly into the guttering fire, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants of Ron's with a graceful ease that lent elegance to the clothes Ron would never have been able to achieve. The candles had gone out, and the room was full of flickering shadows cast by the fire's ruddy glow. Draco was absently tapping a thumb on the table's surface, and didn't look up as she entered the room.
"I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?" Ginny asked, moving toward the stove in her cotton bathrobe, her damp hair tucked behind her ears.
Draco raised his eyes from the fire, and it looked like he had to exert effort to focus them on her. Finally he nodded his assent.
Ginny moved about the kitchen, silently preparing the tea. She told herself that she didn't want to disturb Kevin or Lizzie, already settled down to sleep in the twin's bedroom (with warnings not to fiddle with anything, and especially not to eat anything they found there). More than that, though, she didn't want to disturb the hushed calm of the room, to violate the strange feeling of imminence that hung in the air, as if something delicate would shatter to pieces if she set the tea kettle down on the stove too loudly. Outside, the thunder growled more ominously. The storm was fast approaching.
Ginny couldn't tell if Draco shared her feeling, or if he was just too wrapped up in his own thoughts - either way, he remained as silent as she. It wasn't until she glanced over at him that she realized he was watching her intently. She felt suddenly very naked beneath her thin robe, as if Draco could see right through it. Reddening, she turned back to the kettle, the sound of boiling water within it feeling at that moment like a perfect metaphor for how she herself felt under Draco's gaze.
"Almost ready," she murmured, wanting to break the spell of the silent intimacy that filled the room. Draco didn't reply, and Ginny found herself staring dumbly at her bare feet, feeling oddly nervous and awkward and afraid to meet his eyes. The kettle screaming on the stove behind her ("Ooh! Ooh! Hot, hot, hot - I'm ready!") made her jump skittishly. Trying to recover her equanimity, Ginny quickly removed the kettle from the flame, and went over to a cupboard to retrieve the teacups and saucers. On the lowest shelf were the teacups the family always used - pale cream crockery with a faded green leaf pattern. The set was much loved and much used, and the small chips and cracks in the cups were a testament to both facts. Ginny bit her lip as she thought of the boy sitting behind her in the kitchen he'd earlier referred to as "er . . . cozy" (and Ginny just knew he was probably biting back all sorts of nasty comments), and she stretched onto the tips of her toes, reaching past the everyday crockery in favor of the beautiful white bone china on the top shelf. She just brushed one of the elegant cups with her fingers, but couldn't quite get a handle on it.
"Need some help?" Draco asked over her shoulder. He had come up behind her as silently as a stalking cat, and Ginny froze. His body leaning lightly into her back, he reached past her and pulled down two teacups, setting them on the counter in front of her.
"Er . . . thanks," Ginny said, not turning around.
"My pleasure." Draco didn't move either, and Ginny, after exhaling deeply, relaxed into him. He brought his hands up to her shoulders, slowly caressing her upper arms. Ginny could feel his warm breath against her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. One of his hands traveled up around her shoulder and tangled in her damp hair, fingertips trailing soothingly along her scalp.
"Mmm," Ginny sighed. Draco's body pressed against hers more firmly, and she could feel the taut muscles of his legs and chest through her thin robe.
"Gin," he whispered into her hair, a feathery touch from his lips against her earlobe. Slowly he turned her around and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity she saw there threatened to melt her away.
"Gin," he murmured, his voice as soft as his touch, "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be with you, or if I'll be . . . . But I want tonight for us. I want to be with you tonight."
It took a moment for Ginny to process what he was saying, what he was asking, but when she did, her eyes widened in alarm.
"Draco - I . . ." she stammered, but then his mouth was on hers, tracing the contours of her lips with tiny kisses before pulling her bottom lip into his mouth and scraping it gently with his teeth. Ginny's eyes slid closed, and her mind went blank.
"Ohh," she exhaled. Her hands found their way into Draco's hair and she clutched at the flaxen locks, pulling him into a deeper kiss, not caring if she hurt him in her urgency. Draco responded in kind, and Ginny found herself pressed against the counter, locked in a passionate embrace. It wasn't until she felt him trying to undo the tie to her bathrobe, her only guard against complete nakedness, that her sense of panic returned.
"No, wait! Stop," she said, pulling away from him. "I can't do this." Merlin, don't I sound like a hopeless prude. It wasn't that Ginny had any hang-ups about sex before marriage, or of becoming "one of those scarlet women" as Ron would have put it, but she had long cherished the idea of losing her virginity to Harry - it had seemed inevitable when they started dating, and now that the war was on, Ginny imagined that the big event was just on hold for a while. Not that Harry had ever made any overtures in that direction, but then again, Ginny thought, he'd always had other things on his mind when they were together, weightier issues than the normal teenage boy faced.
"I'm rushing you," Draco said flatly, and Ginny was surprised that there was no impatience or anger in his voice.
"No, it's not that . . . it's just, tomorrow we're going back, and I just can't . . . be with you, like this, anymore. Nobody would understand, and I know that Harry and I broke up, but he still loves me, and I-" her voice quavered for a moment "-I still love him."
Draco stepped back from her, his expression impassive.
"Alright," he said finally, and turned to leave the room.
"Draco, I'm sorry," Ginny called out as he began mounting the stairs. He turned to her and shrugged.
"It's fine," he said. "I'm used to losing to Potter." And with that he disappeared up the stairs.
Ginny stood motionless, leaning back into the counter where Draco had left her. The dying fire cast the room into shadow. On the stove the tea kettle sat abandoned, its waters growing cool. The air of the room itself seemed cooler now that Draco was gone, and Ginny pulled her loosened bathrobe more tightly across her chest. She felt like she had done the right thing, but that didn't make it any easier to fight the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.
Of course I couldn't have sex with Draco. I want to share that with Harry because we love each other. It's not like Draco has any feelings for me. It's just been some fun - how does he phrase it? "A matter of convenience," just like Pansy. He probably doesn't even know how to love . . . .
Ginny felt immediately guilty just for thinking that. She knew he loved his mother fiercely, and that he even loved his father, in a sick sort of twisted hate-him-at-the-same-time-but-can't-help-it way. And a thousand looks and gestures over the past few days belied her statement as well. Ginny recalled the nights when he'd stroke her hair until she fell asleep, and how ridiculously protective he was of her, and all the times he'd brushed against her even in front of the Pullmans, like he just couldn't keep from touching her, and the way he had of saying her name that made it sound like a sacred word, a god's name, and the way he looked at her, with a longing that didn't have anything to do with sex . . .
Circe, he loves me. However it had happened in the short span of time they'd really known each other, Draco Malfoy, Ginny knew with a sudden burst of clarity, had fallen in love with her. And the thought, which might once have horrified her or amused her, made her feel so stupidly happy she wanted to skip a lap around the kitchen table.
Oh sweet Neptune and his tuna fish parade! I love him, too. I love Draco Malfoy. The knowledge hit her like a bolt of lightning, sizzling through her entire body. Despite his flaws, which were many, Ginny had somehow fallen in love with him, too.
And I just sent him away after telling him I was in love with someone else. Brilliant, Miss Weasley - you'll be Head Girl before you know it at this rate.
She had ended things before really understanding what they were, and Draco, only upstairs, might as well have been a million kilometers away. Ginny knew suddenly how it felt to miss someone before they were even gone.
But it's not too late! her heart urged her. Go tell him how you feel, tell him you were wrong, tell him anything it takes to get him to touch you again, look at you again, whisper your name again . . . .
-----
He was at the window in Ron's room, watching the trees waving violently in the wind which whistled around the Burrow as lightning streaked across the sky. His whole body visibly stiffened when she entered, but he didn't turn around.
"Draco -"
"Go get some sleep, Ginny. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Ginny quickly crossed the space between them and grasped his hand, causing him to turn and face her.
"Draco, please. I'm sorry." She held his eyes and silently pleaded with him to understand what she was too afraid to say out loud. Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her when his eyes softened and his body relaxed.
"Stay with me tonight," she whispered, feeling a blush spreading across her features. To hide it, she turned and began pulling him out of the room, heading for her own.
Draco allowed himself to be steered through the dark hallway and into her little bedroom. He paused to shut the door and then pulled Ginny into a deep kiss. Her hands found his face and Ginny kissed him like all the world depended on it, like there was no tomorrow and today was fading fast. Her heart thudded in her chest, partly in fear, partly in anticipation, and partly because she was in the arms of the man she loved - she loved! Ginny felt herself being lifted up, carried toward the bed. Draco almost threw her onto it, and the softness of her threadbare chenille coverlet brushed against her cheek. Draco climbed into the bed after her, his body pressing down upon hers, his hands roaming freely under her robe as he kissed his way down to her collarbone. Ginny tugged at his t-shirt, impatient to feel his bare skin, and Draco paused for a moment, allowing her to lift it off over his head. His pale skin glowed faintly in the dark room, and Ginny ran her fingers lightly down his chest, marveling at the softness of him. Draco's hands had found the tie to her bathrobe while she was distracted, and a surge of panic shot through her.
"Draco, I've never . . . ."
He eyed her intently for a moment.
"I'll be gentle."
Outside, the heavens finally broke open, spilling a torrent of rain onto the heated earth. The drops rattled against the windows of the Burrow so loudly that the thunder itself sounded muffled. The occupants of one of the bedrooms woke groggily at the noise and then rolled back into sleep. In another bedroom, the occupants were completely oblivious to the fury of the storm, their entire world contained within the space of the four corners of the bed, the feel of flesh against flesh. Lightning briefly illuminated the tangle of limbs, the swirl of milk and honey skin as Ginny lost her virginity to a Malfoy.
-----
Ginny woke later in the night, a thunderclap ringing in her ears. Is it still raining? she wondered sleepily, but became more alert at the sound of chirping crickets in the still night. The storm's over - what woke me up? Quickly she sat up, and saw that Draco was already out of bed and pulling on his sweatpants.
"Stay here," he whispered urgently, "and don't make a sound. I think someone's apparated downstairs." Quietly, he crept to the door and disappeared into the hallway. Ginny sat stunned for a moment, trying to process what he had said. Someone downstairs in the Burrow, and Draco going to face whoever it was all alone?
Not a chance, she thought as she scrambled from the bed and found her bathrobe. As noiselessly as Draco before her, she tiptoed out into the hall and made her way down the stairs. In the dark, she was surprised to run into Draco's still form. He put an arm out to steady her, but his eyes were locked intently on something below. Ginny craned her neck to see over his shoulder, and then understood why he was stopped.
There was a Death Eater in her kitchen.
-----
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!
The sun was set and the air had grown cooler with an approaching storm when the old, red pickup truck finally came within sight of the lights of Ottery St. Catchpole. Ginny had dozed through the afternoon, but was awake now, feeling chilled through her limbs. Kevin and Lizzie both slept still, nestled down together in the bed of the truck, and the strange goat, Louisa, appeared to be napping as well. A couple kilometers from the village, the truck rattled to a stop.
"This is as close to ol' Ottery as I can take you," Abe called out from the cab. "I turn here to head on to Plymouth." Draco exited the cab and the other three climbed down out of the bed.
"Thank you, sir," said Ginny. "We will never, never forget your kindness. I wish there was something we could do to repay you." Abe waved his hand at her dismissively and smiled.
"Not at all, not at all," he replied. The four began to walk away.
"Oy, Red-head," Abe called in a soft, kind voice. Ginny turned back and approached the truck.
"I thought of something." There was a twinkle in Abe's eye. "That's your fellow, right?" he asked in a low tone, nodding his head toward Draco who was waiting with the Pullmans on the other side of the road.
"Er . . . well, he's not my . . ." Ginny abruptly clamped her mouth shut, frustrated at not being able to satisfactorily answer that question, even to herself. Abe laughed.
"Oh, young one, I've been there before. Denial never helps, no it does not. No, when you're in love, the only thing you can do is sing it out! Consequences be damned!"
"Um . . . did you say there was something I could do for you?" Ginny wanted the subject changed, and fast.
"Yes, yes," Abe replied, still smiling reminiscently. "Ah, right. I'd like you to do something for . . . Drake, was it? Or was it Dorko? Dooku? No, that can't be right . . ."
"Draco."
"Right, Draco. Just on the tip of my tongue it was. We had a nice talk up here. I got to know him a bit." Abe lowered his voice to a whisper. "Thing is, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, young Draco I noticed . . . he's a bit of a . . . well, he's a bit stuffy."
"Stuffy?"
Abe seemed reluctant to continue. "How to put this? He seems a bit . . . priggish. Hoity-toity. Fancies himself. Conceited. Arrogant. Bit of an ass-"
"You noticed?" Ginny interrupted with a grin.
"But the thing is, I think he's a right chap underneath. I wanted to tell you that. And I want you to take good care of the lad." Abe's lighthearted tone suddenly changed, becoming steely and serious. "He'll need you - it is crucial that you are there for him. It could mean everything."
Ginny was caught off-guard. "I'm sorry?" she asked. But the twinkle had come back into Abe's eye, and he only laughed.
"Ah, love," he said. "Wonderful, wonderful thing. Do you have a brother?"
"Er . . ." Ginny was again surprised by his sudden change of direction. "I have a few."
"I had a brother - best man I ever knew. I got in a spot of trouble once - wild days of my youth and all - but my brother stood by me the whole way. He may not have always approved of my . . . choices, but he always wanted me to be happy. That's the good of family, Red. Keep it in mind." And with a wink, Abe drove off, honking the horn once as he disappeared over a hill. Ginny shook her head, bewildered by the strange, strange Muggle.
"What was that about?" Draco asked as she approached her companions.
"Oh, he just wanted to wish us luck," Ginny said evasively. "Anyway, how was your ride? It looked like the two of you were getting awfully chummy up there."
Draco grunted.
"Are all Muggles that cracked?"
"Why? What did he say?"
"Daft old thing just rattled away the whole time. Talking about some woman nonstop. Their vacations, their spats, her favorite food - raw carrots, apparently - how they can't have children - I wanted to hex my own ears off at that point - just on and on and on with it. And get this - he named that goat after his woman." Draco laughed. "Imagine how honored his lady Louisa must feel to have a goat named after her - some romantic gesture."
Ginny, recalling the strangely intelligent look in the goat's eyes, wondered.
"The funniest part was that he tried to give me love advice! As if I needed help from a dried up old Muggle." Ginny couldn't think of a time when she'd seen Draco laugh harder.
"Well, he was awfully nice to give us a ride practically all the way back," she said.
"I suppose he was a decent sort - for a Muggle."
Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't comment.
"Well, the good news is that we are closer to the Burrow here than if we'd been driven all the way into Ottery St. Catchpole," Ginny said, addressing all three companions. "It's actually just over that hill."
Lizzie gave a little hop and clapped her hands. "We're going home! We're going home!" she squeaked. As they began walking in the direction of the Burrow, the Pullmans were full of animated chatter about flooing home and how glad their parents would be, and all the food they would eat. Ginny smiled at their excitement, feeling her own fluttering in her stomach. She glanced at Draco, who was walking slightly in front of her, his expression blank.
"You okay?" she asked, grazing his shoulder with her fingers.
"Fine," he said, smiling ruefully at her. "Just thinking about how comfortable my bed in Azkaban will be."
"That's not going to happen. It's just not!" Ginny suddenly felt angry - whether at him, or at the situation, or . . . she didn't know.
Wordlessly, Draco lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her knuckles, his gray eyes locked intently on hers. Then he turned away and continued walking. Ginny silently cursed anyone who would dare put him in Azkaban, and then cursed Draco for being himself, and ended with cursing herself for caring so much. A far away rumble of thunder greeted them as they crested the hill. All was darkness below.
Ginny could make out the silhouette of the broomshed as they passed it, and then the larger shape of the Burrow itself, shrouded in black.
Early for everyone to be in bed, she thought.
"Should we knock?" asked Kevin as they reached the door.
"No, key's here," Ginny replied, reaching under the mat.
"Original hiding place," Draco remarked.
"Stuff it."
Ginny unlocked the back door and the four of them slipped into the kitchen. The stillness of the house was absolute, and Ginny felt a wave of fear wash over her. Where was her family? Without waiting for the others, she rushed from room to room, panic spreading through her entire body as each continued empty. She ran up the stairs, and found that the bedrooms, too, were unoccupied.
"No one's here!" she exclaimed, returning to the kitchen, surprised at the shrillness in her voice. "Where are they?"
"Calm down, Ginny," Draco soothed. "It's okay."
"It's not okay. Where the hell is my family?"
"Maybe they went for a visit somewhere?" Kevin suggested.
"There's no sign of a struggle, Gin. They left on their own. Now where would they have gone?"
Ginny took a deep breath as Draco's words sunk in. No, there was no sign of a struggle. None of the telltale signs of a Death Eater attack. And there was no way her family would have gone down without one hell of a fight. There was only one place she could think of that her entire family would have gone to. A place that was in the complete opposite direction than they'd been traveling for so many days.
"I think I know where they'd be," she murmured. "We could floo there." The other three nodded their agreement. Ginny disappeared into the living room, only to return cursing like a sailor.
"Effing Circe and her whole effing barnyard! We . . . we're out of floo powder," Ginny held up the empty jar. She suddenly felt horribly ashamed of her family's poverty. Draco's family probably had large vats of floo powder stashed away at Malfoy Manor, she thought bitterly.
"What about brooms?" Draco asked, his voice calm.
"There are a bunch of old ones in the shed."
"Good. We can take them tomorrow. First thing."
"Why don't we just fly tonight?" asked Lizzie, her voice full of disappointment.
"It's not as safe. Dementors are far more active at night, and harder to spot. Plus, it's going to rain, and I'm not keen on traveling any distance in a thunderstorm."
Reluctantly, the other three had to agree with him.
"On the bright side, we get to sleep in real beds tonight, and I'll bet there's lots of good stuff to eat, right?" Kevin asked, trying to sound cheerful.
Ginny realized there was nothing to gain by worrying and forced herself to smile.
"Yes, let's find some food. I'm starving!"
Lighting a few of the candles in the kitchen so that they could see, the group of weary travelers rummaged through the cupboards and the icebox, pulling out all sorts of goodies. They made a pile in the middle of the table of breads, meats and cheeses and sat down to gorge themselves without bothering to take out plates or utensils. It was by far the best meal Ginny had ever had.
Finally, after the pile on the table had been significantly diminished, and Ginny had a powerful urge to unbutton her jeans in order to give her very full belly some breathing room, the four leaned back in their chairs, satisfied expressions all around.
"I love food," said Kevin, a thoughtful expression on his face. "All I need now is a hot bath and a soft bed."
"Oooh, a bath - youngest first!" said Lizzie. "Ginny, where's the bathroom?"
Ginny smiled lazily. "Upstairs, third door on the right." Lizzie raced up the stairs before Kevin had a chance to protest.
"Cheeky monster!" he called after her retreating form.
Ginny was the last to shower and she stood under the hot water for a long time, feeling the dirt and grime and bone-deep weariness washing away down the drain. It was oddly anti-climactic, being once again surrounded by the familiarity of her home after all the horror and struggle she had endured. She was disappointed; the thought of seeing her family again had filled her waking dreams during the ride in the Muggle car, and when she had drifted into sleep in that comfortable straw-filled truck bed, it had been to dream of Harry.
But another part of her felt like she had been granted a reprieve, like she had one more second to gulp down air before she was plunged into too-deep water. It was a last night, for her, a last night before everything would change. Because once she was back in the folds of her family, there was no way things could continue as they had been. Whatever strange twist of fate that had brought together Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, this night it must be spent or it never would be.
She found him sitting at the kitchen table staring distractedly into the guttering fire, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants of Ron's with a graceful ease that lent elegance to the clothes Ron would never have been able to achieve. The candles had gone out, and the room was full of flickering shadows cast by the fire's ruddy glow. Draco was absently tapping a thumb on the table's surface, and didn't look up as she entered the room.
"I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?" Ginny asked, moving toward the stove in her cotton bathrobe, her damp hair tucked behind her ears.
Draco raised his eyes from the fire, and it looked like he had to exert effort to focus them on her. Finally he nodded his assent.
Ginny moved about the kitchen, silently preparing the tea. She told herself that she didn't want to disturb Kevin or Lizzie, already settled down to sleep in the twin's bedroom (with warnings not to fiddle with anything, and especially not to eat anything they found there). More than that, though, she didn't want to disturb the hushed calm of the room, to violate the strange feeling of imminence that hung in the air, as if something delicate would shatter to pieces if she set the tea kettle down on the stove too loudly. Outside, the thunder growled more ominously. The storm was fast approaching.
Ginny couldn't tell if Draco shared her feeling, or if he was just too wrapped up in his own thoughts - either way, he remained as silent as she. It wasn't until she glanced over at him that she realized he was watching her intently. She felt suddenly very naked beneath her thin robe, as if Draco could see right through it. Reddening, she turned back to the kettle, the sound of boiling water within it feeling at that moment like a perfect metaphor for how she herself felt under Draco's gaze.
"Almost ready," she murmured, wanting to break the spell of the silent intimacy that filled the room. Draco didn't reply, and Ginny found herself staring dumbly at her bare feet, feeling oddly nervous and awkward and afraid to meet his eyes. The kettle screaming on the stove behind her ("Ooh! Ooh! Hot, hot, hot - I'm ready!") made her jump skittishly. Trying to recover her equanimity, Ginny quickly removed the kettle from the flame, and went over to a cupboard to retrieve the teacups and saucers. On the lowest shelf were the teacups the family always used - pale cream crockery with a faded green leaf pattern. The set was much loved and much used, and the small chips and cracks in the cups were a testament to both facts. Ginny bit her lip as she thought of the boy sitting behind her in the kitchen he'd earlier referred to as "er . . . cozy" (and Ginny just knew he was probably biting back all sorts of nasty comments), and she stretched onto the tips of her toes, reaching past the everyday crockery in favor of the beautiful white bone china on the top shelf. She just brushed one of the elegant cups with her fingers, but couldn't quite get a handle on it.
"Need some help?" Draco asked over her shoulder. He had come up behind her as silently as a stalking cat, and Ginny froze. His body leaning lightly into her back, he reached past her and pulled down two teacups, setting them on the counter in front of her.
"Er . . . thanks," Ginny said, not turning around.
"My pleasure." Draco didn't move either, and Ginny, after exhaling deeply, relaxed into him. He brought his hands up to her shoulders, slowly caressing her upper arms. Ginny could feel his warm breath against her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. One of his hands traveled up around her shoulder and tangled in her damp hair, fingertips trailing soothingly along her scalp.
"Mmm," Ginny sighed. Draco's body pressed against hers more firmly, and she could feel the taut muscles of his legs and chest through her thin robe.
"Gin," he whispered into her hair, a feathery touch from his lips against her earlobe. Slowly he turned her around and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. The intensity she saw there threatened to melt her away.
"Gin," he murmured, his voice as soft as his touch, "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be with you, or if I'll be . . . . But I want tonight for us. I want to be with you tonight."
It took a moment for Ginny to process what he was saying, what he was asking, but when she did, her eyes widened in alarm.
"Draco - I . . ." she stammered, but then his mouth was on hers, tracing the contours of her lips with tiny kisses before pulling her bottom lip into his mouth and scraping it gently with his teeth. Ginny's eyes slid closed, and her mind went blank.
"Ohh," she exhaled. Her hands found their way into Draco's hair and she clutched at the flaxen locks, pulling him into a deeper kiss, not caring if she hurt him in her urgency. Draco responded in kind, and Ginny found herself pressed against the counter, locked in a passionate embrace. It wasn't until she felt him trying to undo the tie to her bathrobe, her only guard against complete nakedness, that her sense of panic returned.
"No, wait! Stop," she said, pulling away from him. "I can't do this." Merlin, don't I sound like a hopeless prude. It wasn't that Ginny had any hang-ups about sex before marriage, or of becoming "one of those scarlet women" as Ron would have put it, but she had long cherished the idea of losing her virginity to Harry - it had seemed inevitable when they started dating, and now that the war was on, Ginny imagined that the big event was just on hold for a while. Not that Harry had ever made any overtures in that direction, but then again, Ginny thought, he'd always had other things on his mind when they were together, weightier issues than the normal teenage boy faced.
"I'm rushing you," Draco said flatly, and Ginny was surprised that there was no impatience or anger in his voice.
"No, it's not that . . . it's just, tomorrow we're going back, and I just can't . . . be with you, like this, anymore. Nobody would understand, and I know that Harry and I broke up, but he still loves me, and I-" her voice quavered for a moment "-I still love him."
Draco stepped back from her, his expression impassive.
"Alright," he said finally, and turned to leave the room.
"Draco, I'm sorry," Ginny called out as he began mounting the stairs. He turned to her and shrugged.
"It's fine," he said. "I'm used to losing to Potter." And with that he disappeared up the stairs.
Ginny stood motionless, leaning back into the counter where Draco had left her. The dying fire cast the room into shadow. On the stove the tea kettle sat abandoned, its waters growing cool. The air of the room itself seemed cooler now that Draco was gone, and Ginny pulled her loosened bathrobe more tightly across her chest. She felt like she had done the right thing, but that didn't make it any easier to fight the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.
Of course I couldn't have sex with Draco. I want to share that with Harry because we love each other. It's not like Draco has any feelings for me. It's just been some fun - how does he phrase it? "A matter of convenience," just like Pansy. He probably doesn't even know how to love . . . .
Ginny felt immediately guilty just for thinking that. She knew he loved his mother fiercely, and that he even loved his father, in a sick sort of twisted hate-him-at-the-same-time-but-can't-help-it way. And a thousand looks and gestures over the past few days belied her statement as well. Ginny recalled the nights when he'd stroke her hair until she fell asleep, and how ridiculously protective he was of her, and all the times he'd brushed against her even in front of the Pullmans, like he just couldn't keep from touching her, and the way he had of saying her name that made it sound like a sacred word, a god's name, and the way he looked at her, with a longing that didn't have anything to do with sex . . .
Circe, he loves me. However it had happened in the short span of time they'd really known each other, Draco Malfoy, Ginny knew with a sudden burst of clarity, had fallen in love with her. And the thought, which might once have horrified her or amused her, made her feel so stupidly happy she wanted to skip a lap around the kitchen table.
Oh sweet Neptune and his tuna fish parade! I love him, too. I love Draco Malfoy. The knowledge hit her like a bolt of lightning, sizzling through her entire body. Despite his flaws, which were many, Ginny had somehow fallen in love with him, too.
And I just sent him away after telling him I was in love with someone else. Brilliant, Miss Weasley - you'll be Head Girl before you know it at this rate.
She had ended things before really understanding what they were, and Draco, only upstairs, might as well have been a million kilometers away. Ginny knew suddenly how it felt to miss someone before they were even gone.
But it's not too late! her heart urged her. Go tell him how you feel, tell him you were wrong, tell him anything it takes to get him to touch you again, look at you again, whisper your name again . . . .
He was at the window in Ron's room, watching the trees waving violently in the wind which whistled around the Burrow as lightning streaked across the sky. His whole body visibly stiffened when she entered, but he didn't turn around.
"Draco -"
"Go get some sleep, Ginny. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Ginny quickly crossed the space between them and grasped his hand, causing him to turn and face her.
"Draco, please. I'm sorry." She held his eyes and silently pleaded with him to understand what she was too afraid to say out loud. Ginny felt a wave of relief wash over her when his eyes softened and his body relaxed.
"Stay with me tonight," she whispered, feeling a blush spreading across her features. To hide it, she turned and began pulling him out of the room, heading for her own.
Draco allowed himself to be steered through the dark hallway and into her little bedroom. He paused to shut the door and then pulled Ginny into a deep kiss. Her hands found his face and Ginny kissed him like all the world depended on it, like there was no tomorrow and today was fading fast. Her heart thudded in her chest, partly in fear, partly in anticipation, and partly because she was in the arms of the man she loved - she loved! Ginny felt herself being lifted up, carried toward the bed. Draco almost threw her onto it, and the softness of her threadbare chenille coverlet brushed against her cheek. Draco climbed into the bed after her, his body pressing down upon hers, his hands roaming freely under her robe as he kissed his way down to her collarbone. Ginny tugged at his t-shirt, impatient to feel his bare skin, and Draco paused for a moment, allowing her to lift it off over his head. His pale skin glowed faintly in the dark room, and Ginny ran her fingers lightly down his chest, marveling at the softness of him. Draco's hands had found the tie to her bathrobe while she was distracted, and a surge of panic shot through her.
"Draco, I've never . . . ."
He eyed her intently for a moment.
"I'll be gentle."
Outside, the heavens finally broke open, spilling a torrent of rain onto the heated earth. The drops rattled against the windows of the Burrow so loudly that the thunder itself sounded muffled. The occupants of one of the bedrooms woke groggily at the noise and then rolled back into sleep. In another bedroom, the occupants were completely oblivious to the fury of the storm, their entire world contained within the space of the four corners of the bed, the feel of flesh against flesh. Lightning briefly illuminated the tangle of limbs, the swirl of milk and honey skin as Ginny lost her virginity to a Malfoy.
Ginny woke later in the night, a thunderclap ringing in her ears. Is it still raining? she wondered sleepily, but became more alert at the sound of chirping crickets in the still night. The storm's over - what woke me up? Quickly she sat up, and saw that Draco was already out of bed and pulling on his sweatpants.
"Stay here," he whispered urgently, "and don't make a sound. I think someone's apparated downstairs." Quietly, he crept to the door and disappeared into the hallway. Ginny sat stunned for a moment, trying to process what he had said. Someone downstairs in the Burrow, and Draco going to face whoever it was all alone?
Not a chance, she thought as she scrambled from the bed and found her bathrobe. As noiselessly as Draco before her, she tiptoed out into the hall and made her way down the stairs. In the dark, she was surprised to run into Draco's still form. He put an arm out to steady her, but his eyes were locked intently on something below. Ginny craned her neck to see over his shoulder, and then understood why he was stopped.
There was a Death Eater in her kitchen.
-----
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Leave a Review