Ginny stood completely still, feeling utterly mortified by this whole situation, that she knew Devon would take the wrong way, because that was just who he was.
Draco stared at the boy and glanced at Ginny, understanding immediately. He excused himself to use the loo, leaving them alone.
The first thing Devon did, when he was close enough to her, was reach to draw her against his chest. He brushed the hair from her face as she glanced up at him, her brown eyes cool. She felt so good with her hands wrapped around his waist, her cheek rested against him. He wanted to speak, but knew it would do him no good; his girlfriend had moved on.
“What are you doing here?” Ginny whispered.
“I told you I would come to your world someday,” said Devon as he brushed his lips against her mouth. “Surprised?”
“That’s not exactly the word I’d use,” Ginny said with a sigh. “Oh… You met my family, didn’t you?”
Devon nodded. “Your brother Bill isn’t too fond of me. He gave me a good talking to.”
Ginny giggled slightly and pulled away from him. “I was on my way out when you came here.”
His eyes darkened. “Yes, with that British jerk off. What kind of a date does he consider himself to be to just leave like that?”
Ginny’s eyes grew very dark at his words and she stepped back. She had never heard him speak about someone in such a manner. When they were together in America he was as polite as one man could possibly be, without driving his friends and family insane. She took a few steps back when she realized Draco had returned.
“Jerk off?” he snarled. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to.”
“What, are you going to put a spell on me?” Devon said with a smirk.
“How did you -?”
“Ask her,” Devon said pointing to Ginny. “She’s told me about all of you.”
Draco whirled around, and she had never seen him as mad as he was right now. “You did what?” he snarled, taking a hold of her wrist. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
It was only when the people around them started panicking that they decided to take the argument upstairs. When they reached her room, Ginny unlocked the door and they walked in.
“I told him about me and my family,” she said calmly, turning around; both men were at opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other. “How did you even get here in the first place? When I left you, you were still trying to sort out what I'd told you.”
“That book you gave me sent me here,” he said. “What was it?”
Ginny’s eyes widened.
“Good, Gin,” drawled Draco, “you left him a Portkey.”
“A Port…what?” Devon asked.
“Portkey – it transfers the person who touches it to anywhere when they concentrate hard enough. But I didn’t give it to you; I left it there by accident.”
“Who is he?” Devon said, nodding at Draco.
“I’m not someone you want to mess with, American boy,” he sneered. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and demanding things?”
“I’m not demanding anything,” Devon snapped. “I’m just here for what’s mine.”
“Yours?” Draco chuckled. “That girl is not your possession, or your property.”
“Are you the guy she’s been seeing behind my back?”
“Devon!”
“Shut up, Gin!” Devon shouted.
His anger was rewarded with a quick fist to his jaw, which knocked him backwards into the table. When he straightened up, he lunged at Draco, tackling him around knees and bringing him down, but when he pulled his wand out, Devon stood and stared at him, wiping blood from his mouth as he spit onto the floor.
“Draco!” Ginny shrieked, stepping in between the two of them.
“He’s a dick, Ginny, can’t you see that?”
Ginny sank onto her bed and held her head. “You need to leave. Both of you. Now.”
“But…”
“Please,” she said quietly.
As they exited the room, Draco turned to Devon. “We’re not messing around. We haven’t seen each other in seven years.”
“But you like her?” he asked as they walked outside.
Draco just smirked and Apparated away.
Devon had two choices: go back to the Burrow and watch her family glare at him and whisper about him, or he could leave, because he wanted nothing more to do with this place or her.
How exactly was he going to get back home?
He suddenly remembered his bag, which he had left at the Burrow. It contained that notebook, that Portkey thing she left at his house. He couldn’t go back and ask for, and let them know he was leaving, without explaining what happened with Ginny. Of course, he would also have to mention that man – that rude, bitter, no good, blond man – and surely Molly would want her daughter home.
He kicked a pebble and wondered how he was going to get back to the Weasleys.
Abruptly, there is a noise like a cork being undone from a wine bottle, and Devon found himself staring into the eyes of Hermione Granger once more.
“Hello,” he says quietly.
Her brown eyes flickered and the smallest of smiles touched her lips.
“I thought you’d need a way back,” she said. “How did it go with Ginny?”
He was hoping she wouldn’t have asked that.
“It didn’t go so well,” he heard himself say as he wrapped his arms around her waist; a little afraid of being hurt when they land again. “I found her with someone else.”
Once they were back outside the Burrow, Hermione turned to him. “That’s unlike her.”
“He was a creep – and had the ugliest blond hair I’ve ever…”
“Blond hair?” she said, stunned. “You’re sure?”
“Positive. He’s got the strangest name, too.”
“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione finished for him, her eyes grim.
“You know him?” Devon asked as he started to walk back inside, but she stopped him. “I’m just getting the Portkey.”
Her eyes widened and she looked like she was going to be sick.
“Ginny gave you a Portkey?” Hermione said.
“She left it at my home, that’s how I got here,” he explained.
“Molly wants me to bring her home.”
Devon almost laughed in her face.
“She’s not coming home, Miss Granger.”
“Hermione,” she insisted. “And if she’s with Malfoy, Molly needs to know about it.”
“What is he doing back here?”
Devon heard the footsteps and the angry voice, and he prayed Hermione would take him back with her when she went to talk to Ginny, because he didn’t want to be left here with –
“Bill, please, not now!” Hermione begged. “We have to go get Ginny, she’s with…”
“She sent us both away," Devon informed her. “We kind of got into a fight in her room.”
“Oh, well, she’s at The Three Broomsticks,” Hermione said to the red-haired man. “I’m going to get her now.”
“Is he going with you?” Bill asked.
“Erm – yes, actually,” said Hermione.
She took Devon’s arm and they vanished again. When they landed in the hallway of The Three Broomsticks, Devon glanced around, and counted off by pointing to the doors.
“Trying to remember the number,” he said before Hermione could ask. “It was eleven.”
Just as they started toward that door, it opened, and out stepped Ginny Weasley. She stopped walking when she saw them both.
“What are you doing here?” she said, directing the question more to Hermione than Devon.
“What were you doing with Malfoy, Ginny?” Hermione shot back. “How did you even end up meeting him?”
“Relax, Mione,” said the redhead. “He was in here when I was coming down from my room, and we got to talking. Things aren’t like they used to be when we went to school together.”
“But he’s still a jerk off,” Devon reminded her.
Ginny stared at him, her eyes wide, and her temper flaring. “Who asked you to come here with her?”
“Well, I didn’t want Bill to murder me…”
“Bill would never…”
“You’re so sure?” Devon said, tilting his head. “Because he seemed very certain of doing that today.”
Something inside Ginny broke and she withdrew her wand from her back pocket. “It seems we have a problem,” she whispered. “Hermione, go back to the house and tell my family I’m not coming home, and you—” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Just in case you haven’t caught on, we’re through.”
She Disapparated without another word, leaving them to deal with the wrath of Molly Weasley.
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