It takes a lot to capture someone’s entire attention, to hold the interest of another person to the point of utmost intrigue, to inspire infatuation. Neither Draco Malfoy nor Ginevra Weasley could ever pinpoint what caught Draco’s attention that night, but whatever it was, he was captured, his attention attracted.

Burning with curiosity, he watched her dance, the dim lights of the club setting her hair and body aglow in sporadic bursts. Going up to her was ridiculous; asking her name was out of the question. She wouldn’t spare him a glance. And how could he approach someone he already knew that way? So he watched her.

“Malfoy! All right?” Without looking up, Draco took the drink his friend offered him. “Having a good night?”

She smiled as she danced, eyes alight with alcohol and the excitement of the moment.

“Absolutely not.”

Zabini rolled his eyes. “There’s the optimism I always expect from you. What’s going on?” Following his gaze, he added, “And who’s that?” Malfoy finally glanced over at his friend, then back toward the dance floor.

“It’s Ginny Weasley, mate,” he answered, smirking.

“Oh. Oh.”

Draco didn’t respond, sipping his drink as the effect sunk in. It was the second night out that he’d seen her here, looking like that, taunting him. It was the second Friday in a row that he had been forced to watch her dancing with other blokes in the wizarding club, the second weekend he had attempted to give the illusion of having a good time with his mates while really thinking of ways to convince her he was good enough.

“You’re Draco Malfoy. You can do anything.”

Though Draco laughed as Zabini shoved him in the direction of Ginny’s group, he still hung back. He couldn’t mess this up, not this time. Others of their friends were joining Zabini, though, and in front of the lads, he would have to put in a good show. He ambled in her direction, glancing back to see his mates making various rude gestures and all indicating the same end to the evening.

Laughing and shaking his head, he turned away. Very mature, the lot of them. It was true enough: he had a fair pulling record on a night out, but something about this felt different. His thoughts carried him over to her, to her lips and her face and her hair. Why was he so sure that it would feel so right?

He ended up in front of her, half-drunk, half-smiling, and totally unguarded.

She smiled, it seemed, before she had a chance to think.

“Malfoy?”

“Weasley.” He fell into dancing with her, moving guardedly and somewhat embarrassingly to the beat.

“What are you doing here?” she leaned in to shout over the music.

“Dancing,” he responded easily. “Plus, it’s Incantatem. Always good for a night out.”

“No, I mean over here, with me,” she clarified, casting a glance back at his mates.

“Oh. Well,” he began, and didn’t know how to continue, instead moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, really dancing now.

“Right,” she murmured sardonically as she understood, moving closer to him, her lips brushing his ear.

They danced, their eyes meeting, hips moving ever closer as the beat resounded in their bodies. Draco danced in awe of the whole situation, fascinated that he had ended up there with her.

They remained that way the rest of the night, occasionally going to the bar for drinks and exchanging cautious banter, but never really discussing anything. Before Draco knew it, the night was coming to a close, the lights turning on and the club shutting.

His mates were nowhere to be seen. Rubbish lads, to be honest. It didn’t matter though, really. His head was forming all sorts of other plans for the night, and he didn’t realise until he had turned back to her that his plans involved just being with her, chatting and getting to know her and having a lie-in.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to offer to walk you home?” His breathing quickened so that he almost didn’t make it through the sentence.

“Walk?” she laughed. “Malfoy, this is Wizarding London. One doesn’t walk.”

“If I’m not mistaken, everyone walks. You can only Apparate so far.”

She shook her head, offering her arm to him. “Do you always find a way around everything?”

“I do my best.”

They pushed past the hoards of people gathered around the bar at the entrance of the club to the open air, past staggering witches and wizards too drunk to Apparate beginning the walk home.

They walked a few moments in companionable silence, Draco trying his best to ignore the way the breeze stirred her hair and made the air smell of her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him and glancing over at her just in time to catch her private smile.

“So do you often seduce innocent men in public places, Miss Weasley?” he teased.

“Innocent, bah,” she laughed, reaching over to hit his shoulder with her free hand.

He laughed, his usual chat evaporating from his head as he realised that this was different, that he had to be careful around this girl. Still, he couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t appreciate some good old-fashioned sarcasm, could he?

“Well, when you dance like you do, I don’t see how you’re not a total—” He was cut off by another cuff to the shoulder, this one much harder and probably much more deserved.

“And that skirt, too,” he continued despite his admonishment, gaining confidence at the easiness with which they adjusted to each other. “Ginevra, Ginevra.”

“This skirt what? What about it?” Turning to face him, she put two hands on his chest, her eyes twinkling. Her waist was so close and her lips so shiny that he couldn’t resist for another second. With an enormous effort, though, he paused a mere centimetre from her lips and whispered: “Would you mind if I kissed you?” to the best of his ability.

She closed the distance between them, her fingers clasping his shirt to pull him closer as sparks flew between them. Draco felt his body grow warm as he leaned into her, deepening the kiss, tasting her. Running his hands down her back, he pulled her as close as he could.

“Right, back to mine then?” Draco couldn’t help but suggest. He wanted her, so much that it scared and fascinated him.

“Cheeky,” Ginny teased, breathless, but held on as he pulled her into a phone box that served as an Apparition point and Apparated them away.

It took a tremendous effort to stop himself from having her right there on the foyer of his London apartment. He kissed her once, carefully, then drew back, trying to concentrate.

“Coat? Tea?”

Ginny smirked. “Haven’t got one, and no thank you. Bed?”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he led her to his richly-decorated room and kissed her before she could take it in, suddenly embarrassed rather than proud of his surroundings. They fell into his bed, in no hurry to get undressed, content to just be.

“You’re gentle,” she whispered, reaching out to trace his lips when he leaned back to look down at her. He kissed her fingers. His lips tingled.

“You’re surprised.”

“You’ve never seemed this way.”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. My past doesn’t make me a bad person.” Why was he so defensive? His past did make him a bad person. But he couldn’t ruin this. He couldn’t let her hate him. What was he thinking? Surely she did already. Surely—

“It’s not who you were, is it? It’s who you want to be, who you’re going to be,” Ginny murmured. “As mad as it sounds, some people really are forgivable.” Then she kissed him again, and Draco was carried away, lost in the sensation that was Ginny all around him.


He awakened before she did the next morning and stayed very still, marvelling at her, incredulous that he had been blessed with someone like her there with him.

When she stirred, turning toward him, he reached out to touch her collarbone, tracing the pale lines of her neck. She stayed still, regarding him.

“I’m surprised that I’m here, you know.”

He blinked. “Yes. Why are you here?”

She shrugged. “I was curious. You were careful with me. It could be your upbringing, I suppose, but it seemed like you really cared.”

“I care about the people close to me,” he answered, and it was true, and he wanted very badly for her to believe him. She gave him a curious look, narrowing her eyes as if considering what he had said. Instead of answering, though, she leaned over and kissed him carefully, which he took to mean ‘we’ll see.’

With a sigh, Draco deepened the kiss and rolled onto her, their skin touching everywhere in their nearly undressed state. Surprised, he realised he wasn’t even bothered that they hadn’t properly had sex the night before: he couldn’t remember the last time he had been content to just sleep next to someone, if he ever had been.

“I should really go. I have a lot to do today before training.” Ginny frowned as if disappointed by this fact before reaching up to kiss Draco’s cheek and rolling out of bed. She dressed carefully and moved toward the door, her dress from the night before not seeming at all out of place combined with the loveliness of her tousled appearance.

“You out next weekend?” Draco asked, then waited with his breath held.

She smirked over her shoulder at him as she opened the heavy bedroom door. “I just might be, Malfoy.”

*~*



It had been a few weeks since their first meeting, and though Ginny seemed to be enjoying the banter, Draco was growing uncomfortable with the increasing necessity of a chat, of deciding where they stood with each other. It was Ginny who finally introduced the topic.

“You know,” Ginny said, pausing mid-kiss one night and drawing back to peer at him, “You keep coming back. What’s going on? At this point, I’d rather be with someone who’s going to care about me with some sort of permanence than— ” She trailed off.

It was true. If he had been any other person, he would have known to fight it. To resist loving her with everything he had. He couldn’t afford to be swept up, to give himself away. But she was so perfect, so new, so real. The feeling was foreign, as well, so he couldn’t really even tell that he actually liked this girl. All he knew was that she was entrancing. He did know he was falling, he just needed to find out how hard.

So he made promises he hadn’t known he was capable of keeping. He took her hand from where it was on his chest and kissed the small fingers as he told her the truth.

“You surprised me, Ginny Weasley. I really like you. I want to be here for you. I want to make this work as long as you do. I want to teach you to trust me.”

She propped herself on one elbow and looked down at him, assessing, her mussed hair creating an unruly red halo around her face.

“I may be able to give you the chance.”

“Maybe?” he teased, tickling her waist.

“Maybe,” she responded loftily, leaning down to brush his lips gently with hers. As Draco deepened the kiss, his heart started beating again, and he couldn’t help but think he may have just won the most important victory of his life.
The End.
callmehermione is the author of 6 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 3 members. Members who liked Take Me With You also liked 1129 other stories.
Leave a Review
You must login (register) to review.