There were two things that Draco Malfoy enjoyed at half past noon on a Sunday morning: a black coffee with two shots of espresso, and making fun of the women who didn’t possess enough brains to transfigure their clothing from Saturday night’s scantily-clad outfits to something sensible for their trip home on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, on this particular Sunday morning, his coffee was missing and the fog outside prevented him from seeing anyone passing underneath the balcony of his townhouse. He sighed and closed the curtains before lounging carelessly across his settee.
“Oh, what’s a poor rich boy to do on a cloudy day?”
“Poor rich boy doesn’t make sense,” Draco drawled. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the arm of the settee. “I don’t smell my kona coffee with two shots of espresso.”
“Good boy! Your nose is so good.”
He heard shuffling and kept his eyes closed as his feet were shoved off the settee. “And you are late.”
“Sorry, master. I didn’t know we had a specific time to meet . . . and might I remind you that last week I showed up and you were in Paris. Did I complain then? N—“
His eyes opened, one eyebrow raised. “How is the latest Nimbus? Are you enjoying it?”
“It was the least you could do, considering all the trouble I had to go through last week. I showed up only to get word that Mr. I-Need-to-Shag-a-Parisian-Woman was arrested by French Aurors for having sex at the top of the Eiffel Tower. So of course you had to buy me a broom. I had to speak to your mother, Portkey to Paris, and bail your sorry ars--”
“Language, Ginevra,” he interrupted. Sitting up, his back flush against the arm of the settee, he rested his hands on his stomach. “Is this you not complaining? I would hate to see what you consider complaining.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Draco Malfoy,” she replied.
He cocked his head to the side and observed one of his, surprisingly, closest friends. Red hair tumbled over her shoulders without a semblance of order, and her cheeks were flushed from the morning jog she’d made to his place. A sheen of sweat rested on her face, and she had wet spots across her stomach and back. Her toned legs rested on his one-of-a-kind, antique center table that was a year’s worth of her pay, and there was a nasty red splotch on her left calf that had not been there two days ago.
“Rug burn again?”
“I’m awful at healing it,” Ginny said, twisting her leg so she could look at the irritated skin. “We tried the dining table, but it kept sliding under us. I suppose we could have used a sticking charm, but I was far too worked up to think.”
“How is Theo?”
“Eh, not sure. I can’t remember the last time we actually used more than three syllables,” Ginny said with a shrug. “He did his job. I did mine. Everyone goes home happy, and no one has to cuddle.”
“You’ll shag him but you won’t cuddle him. I will never understand that concept,” Draco said with a smirk.
“Cuddling implies intimacy. Intimacy implies feelings. Feelings imply relationship. Can you really see Theodore Nott sitting at my mum’s table while my brothers grill him on his intentions?” Ginny laughed, twisting her hair into a makeshift bun. “Sex is sex. Intimacy is something I’ll save for someone who is worth it.”
“Point taken.” He stretched, his cashmere sweater inching up to expose a sliver of pale skin. “So what is on the schedule for today?”
“Well, Francesca's was closed this morning due to the weather. If you really want your kona coffee, we’ll have to venture out into Muggle London,” Ginny said.
“Is it raining?” he asked.
“Worried about your hair, princess?”
“It doesn’t look as nice when I get it wet,” Draco deadpanned.
“Wear a hat,” Ginny said, standing.
“I’m not taking fashion tips from the woman who wears stretchy cotton as trousers,” Draco said, rising from the settee. “I’ll get an umbrella and charm my hair to resist the elements.”
“Don’t knock my exercise trousers,” Ginny said, twisting to show him her backside. “Look how nice my bum looks in these.”
“What bum?”
“Arse,” Ginny muttered.
“The House Elves put all the clothes you’ve left here in the spare room off the master,” Draco said. “And you could use a shower. You smell like sweat and grass.”
“Draco,” she sighed, attempting to suppress her smile, “I’m in a really bad place and could use a hug.”
Draco ran.
Despite Ginny’s training, she could not catch up with the long-legged blond. Eventually she Ginny managed to shimmy against him in a vulgar way that made him vow to change his clothing, and the two parted ways to change. If there was one thing Draco did not like, it was sweat—outside of a shag. Malfoys did not sweat. It was unbecoming.
Fifteen minutes later, Ginny emerged in the entrance hall of his townhome, wet hair swept into a ponytail. She had traded her running shirt for a too-big black t-shirt and cotton stretchy trousers for a pair of denims. Her trainers were still on her feet, laces tucked into the side, and there seemed to be a worn patch at the side of one of them.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Considering the amount of money you make playing Quidditch, couldn’t you afford a new pair of trainers?” Draco braced his umbrella against his shoulder.
“What are you talking about? I love these. They’re comfy and stylish,” Ginny said.
“Let’s add shoe shopping to the list of things to do today,” Draco said.
“You and your lists,” Ginny said. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her head. “What else is on the agenda for today?”
“Stop at my tailor. Buy Mother a birthday present—“
“Just not another flesh-eating plant,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “You can only take one of those in a lifetime.”
“It was supposed to be orchids. It’s not my fault that the company was staffed by idiots,” Draco said, exasperated. “Besides, I think I will do generic diamonds this year.”
“You can’t go wrong with diamonds,” Ginny said. She put on the parka she had left on the coat rack in the entrance. “Come on. I think today is going to be longer than expected. Can we at least have dinner at Fusion, the new sushi place in Diagon Alley?”
“New trainers for Fusion.”
“Deal.” Ginny said. “But you have to eat three pieces of sushi and do one saki bomb.”
“Then you have to wear stilettos, even if they’re painful,” Draco said smugly.
“Arse,” Ginny muttered. She sighed. “Deal. Let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~
“Your addiction to coffee is so bizarre.”
Draco pushed away the empty porcelain mug. “How so?”
“I think I always expected you to sip on tea and nibble biscuits while chuckling over piles of gold,” Ginny said, biting into her croissant. She brushed the crumbs off her shirt, eyes furrowed in concentration. “But two shots of espresso? I can hardly handle one without wanting to sprint around a Quidditch field.”
“Yes, I know. Remember our date?”
“To be fair, I was attempting to prove that I could handle anything Draco Malfoy could,” Ginny said, pointing a half eaten croissant at him. “Clearly, coffee is not one of those things.”
“At least I got some entertainment out of that evening,” Draco said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get up and leave once you realized it was me,” Ginny said, cocking her head to the side. “We never could get along in school.”
“It would have been rude, and I am a perfect gentleman,” Draco drawled. “Besides, if you were going to stick through that disastrous blind date, then I wasn’t going to be the one to back down.”
“Ellie and George just did not bother to learn the social scene did they?” Ginny laughed. “I guess they must not have family feuds in Canada. Ellie was so shocked when I told her.”
“Everywhere has family feuds,” Draco scoffed. “Our feud is simply more public.”
“‘Is?’ I was under the impression we could speak in past tense now,” Ginny said with a grin. “I’ve seen you starkers. I think we can put the feud to rest.”
“That doesn’t count,” Draco said, brushing her off. “You only saw me from behind...and briefly.”
“Your arse could use some firming,” Ginny said nonchalantly.
“Says the woman who constantly talks about minimizing the jiggle effect,” Draco shot back.
"Have you seen my mother? I need to be concerned with these things," Ginny hissed. She brushed the remaining crumbs from her shirt. "Are you properly caffeinated now? Shall we do a little shopping?"
"After you," Draco said, standing and waving in the direction of the door. "I would say ladies first, but that would be an insult to ladies everywhere."
"I didn't see you complaining when you were goggling at my tits," Ginny said with a smile.
"That was one time," Draco said haughtily. "And Malfoys do not 'goggle.' I was admiring the free show you were giving to the public."
"Sure," Ginny said. She stood and led them out onto the bustling streets of Muggle London. "What first?"
"New trainers and then we can head into Diagon Alley for the diamonds," Draco said, shaking out his umbrella. He opened it and allowed Ginny to loop her arm through his. "If I remember correctly, there's a store around the corner."
"If someone had told me that Draco Malfoy knew his way around Muggle London, I would have referred them to a good Healer at Mungos." Ginny huddled closer as cars zoomed past on the street. "Then again, I am the one shopping with said Malfoy in said place."
"I can drop you off at St. Mungos on the way to Diagon Alley," Draco offered.
"Please do," Ginny said. "I would enjoy the company of Gilderoy Lockhart. He did make me swoon, once upon a time."
"Before he tried to leave you to die in the chamber, you mean?" Draco led them down a street with people dressed inappropriately for a rainy day. Women wore heels and cried out when droplets of water fell on their coiffed hair. "How are the nightmares?"
Ginny’s steps faltered. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“And I have black hair and call myself Rudolph,” Draco said sarcastically.
“Is there a reason you need to have an alternate identity?” asked Ginny. “Are you doing illegal things without me?”
“You’re avoiding the subject,” Draco said. He looked down at the top of her head. “I asked if you were having nightmares.”
“I heard, and I said I was fine,” Ginny said.
“Ginevra,” Draco probed.
"It’s just the usual stuff. Big snake, Tom Riddle, and Harry never coming to find me," Ginny said exasperatedly. "It’s better we just don’t talk about it."
“Fine, I have some Dreamless Sleep draught at the townhouse. We won’t discuss it—for now," Draco said.
Ginny smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
Draco closed his umbrella and nodded to the men who opened the doors to the shop for them. "Shall we?"
"It's a little fancy for trainers, isn't it?" Ginny thanked the doormen and moved inside. "Or did you have some other purpose? A new pair of loafers perhaps?"
"Well, mine are getting a little ratty," Draco said, calling over one of the sales ladies.
"You bought them three weeks ago," Ginny protested.
"I've worn them practically every day since," Draco said. He turned away at her raised eyebrows. "Four times."
"I suppose when you're sitting on a house full of gold, you can manage to buy shoes every day for the rest of your life." Ginny scowled at the thin-heeled shoes gracing the women's side. "Where are the trainers?"
They walked to the back of the store and found trainers displayed on over-the-top golden pedestals. Draco immediately steered Ginny away from garish neon orange trainers with green stripes. His redheaded friend had a penchant for the absurd when it came to her clothing. He assumed this came from years of wearing hand-me-downs, although his latest theory was that she had spent too much time around Fred and George's experiments and was a little touched in the head.
"These?" She held up a pair of gold studded trainers. "They're cool."
Draco beckoned over one of the sales women and picked up a pair of gray and blue trainers. "She'll take these in the gray, white, and black."
"And these as well," Ginny said, peeking her head out from behind Draco's shoulder. "Thanks."
"No, she doesn't want those," Draco said, causing the sales lady to halt before she walked away. "We'll stick with the three I chose."
Ginny rolled her eyes before stepping out from behind Draco's slim form. "If you want me to purchase anything, you'll bring me his three and my gold trainers."
The sales lady looked between both Draco and Ginny, a look of trepidation on her face. "So four pairs of trainers?"
"Yes," Ginny said. She clapped a hand over Draco's mouth before he could protest. "I let you get away with choosing not one but three pairs of shoes for me. Let's not push our luck today, yea?"
Draco removed her hand from his face with a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know where your hand has been."
"Wouldn't you like to know," Ginny said teasingly, waggling her eyebrows.
"I'm going to go work off my disgust in the men's shoe section." Draco turned on his heel and walked towards the smell of polished leather.
"Revenge will be sweet my friend." Ginny stepped in stride with him. "You do realize that I intend on picking out a few pairs of shoes for you as well, right?"
"I think not," Draco said.
"Oh but I think so, and we both know I always win these arguments," Ginny said, running her hand over a pair of fur covered shoes. "How about these?"
"Why am I still friends with you?"
"Because I'm the only person who will tolerate you?" Ginny picked up the fur shoes, moving to a pair of smoking slippers with a gold scorpion on the front. "Plus, I have a charming personality, good looks, and a mouth dirtier than Hagrid's socks."
Draco paled. "I have an image of you with Hagrid's socks in your mouth stuck in my head."
"Gross," Ginny said, handing her two picks to the sales lady. "Just for that image, you're getting the hot pink loafers with the diamond skull and bones."
"I'll give it to one of my house e—servants," Draco said. "They'll be overjoyed."
"If you do, I will take a picture of them in your closet to send to the Prophet," Ginny said.
"You wouldn't," Draco scoffed.
"Or would I?" Ginny raised both eyebrows and placed her hands on her hip.
Draco knew that look well. They had only been friends for two years, but after a particularly embarrassing lesson of waking up in the middle of a Muggle park with nothing but a pink feather boa, he’d learned that Ginny Weasley was not one to back down from a challenge. She was the embodiment of Fred and George Weasley with a mean streak and a perfect set of tits.
"Fine." Draco picked up a pair of leather loafers. "I won't give them away."
"Good boy," Ginny said. She stretched and yawned. "I could use a nap before we go to dinner tonight."
"We can skip the rest of the list," Draco said idly. "I'll push my tailor’s appointment to tomorrow and go through some catalogue for mother's present."
"It's not like you have much else to do," Ginny said. "I honestly have no idea how you can not work or do anything productive all day."
"It's called having enough money to not care," Draco said.
Ginny laughed. "I suppose. I just wouldn't be able to sit at home all day. We're in off-season now and I can't even take a vacation."
The two friends parted ways outside the entrance to Diagon Alley, but Draco's mind kept going over Ginny's statement about his life. It was true. He had nothing to do all day except make the occasional charity appearance or meet with the bank to discuss his inheritance. The company was run by people he hired, since he knew he wouldn’t thrive in the business world, and the Malfoy estate did not need his attention while his mother sat at its helm. So he spent his days planning vacations for himself, shopping, and meeting up with his friends. What else was there to do?
~~~~~~~~
Diagon Alley was bright and crowded when Draco arrived near Fusion. The alley had come into the new age, shining and sparkling, mostly in part to the generous donations of three families: the Malfoys, the Zabinis, and the Notts. Together, the three former Slytherins had funded a renovation effort in Diagon Alley. The three boys had been sent to stay in America for a few months after their graduation from Hogwarts while their family members stood trial, and they had been impressed with the nightlife of the various cities. It was one thing the Wizarding world had been lacking in Great Britain.
On their return from their "vacation," they had gathered together and proposed a foundation for the renewal of the Wizarding hub. It took a year to fix the one lane street and expand the district, creating more room as well as more off streets. Empty buildings were built to allow for new stores and restaurants, and the infamous Knockturn Alley was not kept out of the renewal effort—the streets were cleaned, storefronts were redone, and the alley was no longer as scary as it used to be.
Of course, this also meant that the three families, who had split the ownership of the various buildings, now owned Diagon Alley. They were leased to various vendors, and Draco had invested money into the setup of the most prestigious, well-to-do nightclub in Diagon Alley. The clientele was specific to notable faces and pretty women. Ginny often joked that it was a closet whorehouse, and Draco couldn't completely deny her statement. But pretty women meant happy men, and happy men meant good business.
As he rounded on the new restaurant, he noticed flashing lights and a crowd of people. Upon closer inspection, he realized that there was a press area as well as a carpet, which flashed various colors, leading into the restaurant. He moved closer to the building, noticing the steady stream of notable faces that milled outside the restaurant. He could only deduce that they were hosting an event of some sort. He was not too keen on the idea of eating at the restaurant when they were throwing a party, and he knew Ginny would agree, although she would be disappointed. She had read about their opening in the Daily Prophet and mentioned going every day for a week.
A small group of teenage girls passed the restaurant, stopping to point at someone in the middle of a crowd. "Look! It's Ginny Weasley!"
"Well played, Weasley," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pocket and approaching the crowd of famous faces.
In the middle of the crowd, waving to photographers and signing autographs for her fans, was the record-scoring chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. If there was one thing that Draco had to admit Ginny did well, it was public appearances. While her casual, day-to-day style consisted of baggy clothes and wild colors, her outfits for parties and events always stunned crowds. For example, tonight, she wore a champagne dress so tight that he wouldn't have been able to fit parchment between it and her body. Her burgundy red hair was left in big curls that draped down her back perfectly, even when she tousled it for the cameras. And her shoes, which Draco realized she had probably planned to wear from the start, were thin-heeled strappy things that she would no doubt complain about all night.
Ginny looked up and saw him, brown eyes flashing with amusement as she approached him. Smiling, she said, "Hello, princess.”
"Your tits look phenomenal," Draco said, his eyes focused on the valley in between her breasts. "Do you know how much women pay to get those?"
Ginny looked down and shrugged. "More than they're worth, I assure you. The back pain really just isn't worth it. Besides, small breasts are a lot more clothing-versatile."
"You could wear a trash bag, and men would still want you for that lovely set you have on your chest." He allowed her to loop arms with him. "Now, am I to assume that you were planning on wearing those torture devices on your feet before we made our deal?"
"It's more fun to make you think that you're winning," Ginny said.
"Yes, it is more fun when I win," Draco said. "I'll be staring at your tits all night until you squirm in your seat."
"A rip-my-clothes-off-now squirm? Or a creepy-dirty-man squirm?" asked Ginny, stopping to pose for a picture with a fan. "So?"
"A mix of both," Draco said nonchalantly. "I imagine one more hour in that dress, and you'll want me to cut you out of it anyway."
"You're right. Breathing is definitely restricted, but again, my bum looks phenomenal in this. Take a look," Ginny said, sticking her derriere out in a lewd manner.
"We're in public," Draco said, eyeing her behind. "And you're right."
"They're all paying attention to the new girl on the team. She might outshine me in the showing-of-the-assets category," Ginny said, trying to get a peek of her blonde teammate. "She's hell on a broom though and hits a Bludger better than the twins."
"So what is this event that you tricked me into?" asked Draco. "You could have used the age-old method of asking me to accompany you."
"Not nearly as fun," Ginny said. "It's just the opening party for Fusion. Lucy, our new PR lady, decided we needed a little off-season face time. She sent all of us a list of different events that we can go to, and we're contractually required to do at least seven of them."
"Trying to get more popularity?" asked Draco, steely faced for the cameras.
"I suppose," Ginny said, smiling. "Now put on that debonair look that made you Britain's Hottest Bachelor and make me look good."
They did a few pictures together before Draco stepped aside to allow her time alone. She laughed with the photographers, made faces at them, and then waved as she walked away—her arse swishing invitingly. He saw more than one of the men put down their cameras to get a better look, and he knew that she was doing it on purpose. That star power was why Ginny Weasley was the face of the Holyhead Harpies. There was never an article written about the team that didn't have her picture in it. She was their star, and they paid her more money than she knew what to do with because of the way she could command a crowd’s attention.
He joined her inside the restaurant, unimpressed by the modern Asian decor. "It smells like fish in here."
"I had a comment about the amount of women in here on the tip of my tongue, but that wouldn't be very appropriate," Ginny said, pointing to a table for two. "Come on, let's get a table for two before we get wrangled into joining other people."
"Not feeling social tonight, are we?" He pulled out her chair before sitting across from her. "You picked a great spot to not be social in."
"Hey, the food is supposed to be good. That's all that matters," Ginny said, looking around the room. She leaned over and wriggled her hands. "Hands-y Marcus is here, by the way. Keep your body between his and mine or I might end up in Ministry confinement tonight. He had the nerve to try and slap my arse a few nights ago at your club."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "You went to my club without me?"
"The night you were shagging the Romanian girl," Ginny said.
"Romanian girl?" Draco thought back.
"Tall, leggy, blonde hair that didn't match her down—“
"Oh, her," Draco said, nodding. "You really do have a dirty mouth."
"It's been two years. You can't honestly still be shocked," Ginny said, smiling at the waitress. "Hi."
They put in their orders and did complimentary sake bombs. While they waited for their food, Ginny signed a few autographs for some of her annoying male fans, and Draco glared at hands-y Marcus in order to deter him from coming over to their table. He would have to have a word with the staff at the nightclub about watching Ginny while she was there.
When their sushi arrived, Draco proposed his new plan to Ginny. It had come to him after their shopping trip, while he had been mulling over what to do with his days. It had begun to bother him that he really seemed to have nothing to keep himself entertained, despite all his money. Then he realized that he had everything to keep himself entertained because of his money. His options were limitless.
"I'm making a bucket list," he announced.
Ginny paused mid-bite. "Draco, is everything alright? You were looking a little peaky last week. Is that it? Do you have some sort of terminal illness?"
"Peaky? I did not look peaky," Draco denied.
"No illness, then?" Ginny asked.
"No," he replied, still ruffled by the peaky comment. "I was thinking earlier--"
"That is news," Ginny said, giggling. She stopped when he glared at her. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
"Keep giggling, I can almost see a nipple," Draco drawled. "Care to give a peep show tonight?"
"I could make a sizable amount off it," Ginny joked.
"As I was saying, I was thinking about earlier when you said I do nothing all day," Draco said, pushing away one of the sushi rolls on his plate. "You're right. I don't do anything. So I decided to make a list of all the things I want to do and do them."
"For example?" Ginny pressed.
"Tomorrow, you and I are going to Dubai to start,” Draco said proudly.
Ginny’s mouth snapped shut. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I booked a private Portkey and made hotel arrangements for us.” Draco held his hand up when she began to get red in the face. “Listen, you have nothing to do at the moment, except keep in shape. You can do that in Dubai. The hotel has an indoor and outdoor professional Quidditch pitch, jogging track included. We’re young. We’re well off, me more so than you, and we have some time off.”
“Having time off implies that you have time on—doing something, anything,” Ginny snapped irritably. “How could you decide that I would take a trip without asking first?”
“It’s a trip with yours truly,” Draco said, eating a piece of sushi. “Who wouldn’t want to go?”
Ginny’s lips twitched, though her face remained serious. “I have events to attend.”
“We’re only a Portkey away from home,” Draco said. “Don’t you even want to hear what we’ll be doing?”
“I’m terrified,” Ginny said. She sighed and called over a waitress. “I need four sake bombs.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Okay, what are you planning for us if—and that is a large if—I go to Dubai?” Ginny cringed as he began to speak.
“Well, first, we’re going to go riding with a company called Extreme Carpeting,” Draco said.
“Oh Merlin,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “Not Magic Carpets.”
“It’s safe. They come highly recommended,” Draco said, waving her worries off. “They’re going to take us on one of their signature, high speed rides. Then we’ll go camel riding.”
“Camel riding?” Ginny thanked the waitress and did a sake bomb, glaring at the photographer snapping pictures. “Why would we ride camels?”
“To get to the restaurant that has the best food on the Persian Gulf,” Draco said as if it were obvious. “Then the next day, I planned for us to learn to drive Muggle cars.”
“Are you trying to die? Is this some sort of bucket-list-before-I-kill-myself sort of thing?” Ginny finished her third sake bomb. “Do you want the last one?”
“I suspect you better have it. I’ll have to throw you over my shoulders to get you out of here,” Draco said. “So will you go?”
“On one condition,” Ginny said, pausing to do the fourth sake bomb. “I get to pick some things to do as well.”
“Well, we’ll be in Dubai for three days. Then I want to head to Italy and tour some vineyards. I’ve always wanted to own a vineyard,” Draco said. “I’ll have my assistant prepare clothes for you. I’ll give her your sizes.”
“How do you even know my sizes?” Ginny held up a finger when he moved to talk. “And why can’t I bring my own clothes?”
“Dubai has a strict dress code policy for women. I wouldn’t want you to get arrested,” Draco said. “It’s better this way.”
“I won’t be able to convince you otherwise, will I?”
“You can try. I’ll have fun watching,” Draco said with a smirk. “What else are you going to do for the next two weeks until training officially starts?”
“You’re the most frustarating—wait, no, frustorting—frustr—annoying person I have ever met,” Ginny finished.
Draco chuckled, moving a plate of wasabi before Ginny’s elbow could land in it. “You are the biggest lightweight I have ever met.”
“Shove off!”
“You first, darling.”
“Don’t say, darling,” Ginny said, rolling her ‘r.’ “It sounds perverted.”
“Whatever you say, darling.”
“I’m going to commit suicide on this trip. I can see the headlines now, ‘Quidditch Star Offs Herself after Forced Adventure with Britain’s Hottest Bachelor.’” Ginny giggled.
“Tomorrow’s headline will be ‘Quidditch Star Carried out of Restaurant on the Back of Courageous Malfoy Bachelor,’” Draco retorted.
Ginny snorted. “You would paint yourself in a flattering light.”
“You’re the one, who keeps reminding me of my ‘Hottest Bachelor’ status,” Draco said amusedly. “Which I am, of course.”
Ginny sighed. “When I kill myself on this trip, just let my family know I love them. You’ll have a chance when my brothers come to kill you.”
“I’ll get away in the Muggle car I buy after I learn to drive,” Draco said. “I might not have any use for it, but I might as well have one.”
“Merlin, help me.”
“Merlin’s dead,” Draco deadpanned.
“Oh, what’s a poor rich boy to do on a cloudy day?”
“Poor rich boy doesn’t make sense,” Draco drawled. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the arm of the settee. “I don’t smell my kona coffee with two shots of espresso.”
“Good boy! Your nose is so good.”
He heard shuffling and kept his eyes closed as his feet were shoved off the settee. “And you are late.”
“Sorry, master. I didn’t know we had a specific time to meet . . . and might I remind you that last week I showed up and you were in Paris. Did I complain then? N—“
His eyes opened, one eyebrow raised. “How is the latest Nimbus? Are you enjoying it?”
“It was the least you could do, considering all the trouble I had to go through last week. I showed up only to get word that Mr. I-Need-to-Shag-a-Parisian-Woman was arrested by French Aurors for having sex at the top of the Eiffel Tower. So of course you had to buy me a broom. I had to speak to your mother, Portkey to Paris, and bail your sorry ars--”
“Language, Ginevra,” he interrupted. Sitting up, his back flush against the arm of the settee, he rested his hands on his stomach. “Is this you not complaining? I would hate to see what you consider complaining.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Draco Malfoy,” she replied.
He cocked his head to the side and observed one of his, surprisingly, closest friends. Red hair tumbled over her shoulders without a semblance of order, and her cheeks were flushed from the morning jog she’d made to his place. A sheen of sweat rested on her face, and she had wet spots across her stomach and back. Her toned legs rested on his one-of-a-kind, antique center table that was a year’s worth of her pay, and there was a nasty red splotch on her left calf that had not been there two days ago.
“Rug burn again?”
“I’m awful at healing it,” Ginny said, twisting her leg so she could look at the irritated skin. “We tried the dining table, but it kept sliding under us. I suppose we could have used a sticking charm, but I was far too worked up to think.”
“How is Theo?”
“Eh, not sure. I can’t remember the last time we actually used more than three syllables,” Ginny said with a shrug. “He did his job. I did mine. Everyone goes home happy, and no one has to cuddle.”
“You’ll shag him but you won’t cuddle him. I will never understand that concept,” Draco said with a smirk.
“Cuddling implies intimacy. Intimacy implies feelings. Feelings imply relationship. Can you really see Theodore Nott sitting at my mum’s table while my brothers grill him on his intentions?” Ginny laughed, twisting her hair into a makeshift bun. “Sex is sex. Intimacy is something I’ll save for someone who is worth it.”
“Point taken.” He stretched, his cashmere sweater inching up to expose a sliver of pale skin. “So what is on the schedule for today?”
“Well, Francesca's was closed this morning due to the weather. If you really want your kona coffee, we’ll have to venture out into Muggle London,” Ginny said.
“Is it raining?” he asked.
“Worried about your hair, princess?”
“It doesn’t look as nice when I get it wet,” Draco deadpanned.
“Wear a hat,” Ginny said, standing.
“I’m not taking fashion tips from the woman who wears stretchy cotton as trousers,” Draco said, rising from the settee. “I’ll get an umbrella and charm my hair to resist the elements.”
“Don’t knock my exercise trousers,” Ginny said, twisting to show him her backside. “Look how nice my bum looks in these.”
“What bum?”
“Arse,” Ginny muttered.
“The House Elves put all the clothes you’ve left here in the spare room off the master,” Draco said. “And you could use a shower. You smell like sweat and grass.”
“Draco,” she sighed, attempting to suppress her smile, “I’m in a really bad place and could use a hug.”
Draco ran.
Despite Ginny’s training, she could not catch up with the long-legged blond. Eventually she Ginny managed to shimmy against him in a vulgar way that made him vow to change his clothing, and the two parted ways to change. If there was one thing Draco did not like, it was sweat—outside of a shag. Malfoys did not sweat. It was unbecoming.
Fifteen minutes later, Ginny emerged in the entrance hall of his townhome, wet hair swept into a ponytail. She had traded her running shirt for a too-big black t-shirt and cotton stretchy trousers for a pair of denims. Her trainers were still on her feet, laces tucked into the side, and there seemed to be a worn patch at the side of one of them.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Considering the amount of money you make playing Quidditch, couldn’t you afford a new pair of trainers?” Draco braced his umbrella against his shoulder.
“What are you talking about? I love these. They’re comfy and stylish,” Ginny said.
“Let’s add shoe shopping to the list of things to do today,” Draco said.
“You and your lists,” Ginny said. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her head. “What else is on the agenda for today?”
“Stop at my tailor. Buy Mother a birthday present—“
“Just not another flesh-eating plant,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “You can only take one of those in a lifetime.”
“It was supposed to be orchids. It’s not my fault that the company was staffed by idiots,” Draco said, exasperated. “Besides, I think I will do generic diamonds this year.”
“You can’t go wrong with diamonds,” Ginny said. She put on the parka she had left on the coat rack in the entrance. “Come on. I think today is going to be longer than expected. Can we at least have dinner at Fusion, the new sushi place in Diagon Alley?”
“New trainers for Fusion.”
“Deal.” Ginny said. “But you have to eat three pieces of sushi and do one saki bomb.”
“Then you have to wear stilettos, even if they’re painful,” Draco said smugly.
“Arse,” Ginny muttered. She sighed. “Deal. Let’s go.”
~
“Your addiction to coffee is so bizarre.”
Draco pushed away the empty porcelain mug. “How so?”
“I think I always expected you to sip on tea and nibble biscuits while chuckling over piles of gold,” Ginny said, biting into her croissant. She brushed the crumbs off her shirt, eyes furrowed in concentration. “But two shots of espresso? I can hardly handle one without wanting to sprint around a Quidditch field.”
“Yes, I know. Remember our date?”
“To be fair, I was attempting to prove that I could handle anything Draco Malfoy could,” Ginny said, pointing a half eaten croissant at him. “Clearly, coffee is not one of those things.”
“At least I got some entertainment out of that evening,” Draco said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get up and leave once you realized it was me,” Ginny said, cocking her head to the side. “We never could get along in school.”
“It would have been rude, and I am a perfect gentleman,” Draco drawled. “Besides, if you were going to stick through that disastrous blind date, then I wasn’t going to be the one to back down.”
“Ellie and George just did not bother to learn the social scene did they?” Ginny laughed. “I guess they must not have family feuds in Canada. Ellie was so shocked when I told her.”
“Everywhere has family feuds,” Draco scoffed. “Our feud is simply more public.”
“‘Is?’ I was under the impression we could speak in past tense now,” Ginny said with a grin. “I’ve seen you starkers. I think we can put the feud to rest.”
“That doesn’t count,” Draco said, brushing her off. “You only saw me from behind...and briefly.”
“Your arse could use some firming,” Ginny said nonchalantly.
“Says the woman who constantly talks about minimizing the jiggle effect,” Draco shot back.
"Have you seen my mother? I need to be concerned with these things," Ginny hissed. She brushed the remaining crumbs from her shirt. "Are you properly caffeinated now? Shall we do a little shopping?"
"After you," Draco said, standing and waving in the direction of the door. "I would say ladies first, but that would be an insult to ladies everywhere."
"I didn't see you complaining when you were goggling at my tits," Ginny said with a smile.
"That was one time," Draco said haughtily. "And Malfoys do not 'goggle.' I was admiring the free show you were giving to the public."
"Sure," Ginny said. She stood and led them out onto the bustling streets of Muggle London. "What first?"
"New trainers and then we can head into Diagon Alley for the diamonds," Draco said, shaking out his umbrella. He opened it and allowed Ginny to loop her arm through his. "If I remember correctly, there's a store around the corner."
"If someone had told me that Draco Malfoy knew his way around Muggle London, I would have referred them to a good Healer at Mungos." Ginny huddled closer as cars zoomed past on the street. "Then again, I am the one shopping with said Malfoy in said place."
"I can drop you off at St. Mungos on the way to Diagon Alley," Draco offered.
"Please do," Ginny said. "I would enjoy the company of Gilderoy Lockhart. He did make me swoon, once upon a time."
"Before he tried to leave you to die in the chamber, you mean?" Draco led them down a street with people dressed inappropriately for a rainy day. Women wore heels and cried out when droplets of water fell on their coiffed hair. "How are the nightmares?"
Ginny’s steps faltered. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“And I have black hair and call myself Rudolph,” Draco said sarcastically.
“Is there a reason you need to have an alternate identity?” asked Ginny. “Are you doing illegal things without me?”
“You’re avoiding the subject,” Draco said. He looked down at the top of her head. “I asked if you were having nightmares.”
“I heard, and I said I was fine,” Ginny said.
“Ginevra,” Draco probed.
"It’s just the usual stuff. Big snake, Tom Riddle, and Harry never coming to find me," Ginny said exasperatedly. "It’s better we just don’t talk about it."
“Fine, I have some Dreamless Sleep draught at the townhouse. We won’t discuss it—for now," Draco said.
Ginny smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
Draco closed his umbrella and nodded to the men who opened the doors to the shop for them. "Shall we?"
"It's a little fancy for trainers, isn't it?" Ginny thanked the doormen and moved inside. "Or did you have some other purpose? A new pair of loafers perhaps?"
"Well, mine are getting a little ratty," Draco said, calling over one of the sales ladies.
"You bought them three weeks ago," Ginny protested.
"I've worn them practically every day since," Draco said. He turned away at her raised eyebrows. "Four times."
"I suppose when you're sitting on a house full of gold, you can manage to buy shoes every day for the rest of your life." Ginny scowled at the thin-heeled shoes gracing the women's side. "Where are the trainers?"
They walked to the back of the store and found trainers displayed on over-the-top golden pedestals. Draco immediately steered Ginny away from garish neon orange trainers with green stripes. His redheaded friend had a penchant for the absurd when it came to her clothing. He assumed this came from years of wearing hand-me-downs, although his latest theory was that she had spent too much time around Fred and George's experiments and was a little touched in the head.
"These?" She held up a pair of gold studded trainers. "They're cool."
Draco beckoned over one of the sales women and picked up a pair of gray and blue trainers. "She'll take these in the gray, white, and black."
"And these as well," Ginny said, peeking her head out from behind Draco's shoulder. "Thanks."
"No, she doesn't want those," Draco said, causing the sales lady to halt before she walked away. "We'll stick with the three I chose."
Ginny rolled her eyes before stepping out from behind Draco's slim form. "If you want me to purchase anything, you'll bring me his three and my gold trainers."
The sales lady looked between both Draco and Ginny, a look of trepidation on her face. "So four pairs of trainers?"
"Yes," Ginny said. She clapped a hand over Draco's mouth before he could protest. "I let you get away with choosing not one but three pairs of shoes for me. Let's not push our luck today, yea?"
Draco removed her hand from his face with a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know where your hand has been."
"Wouldn't you like to know," Ginny said teasingly, waggling her eyebrows.
"I'm going to go work off my disgust in the men's shoe section." Draco turned on his heel and walked towards the smell of polished leather.
"Revenge will be sweet my friend." Ginny stepped in stride with him. "You do realize that I intend on picking out a few pairs of shoes for you as well, right?"
"I think not," Draco said.
"Oh but I think so, and we both know I always win these arguments," Ginny said, running her hand over a pair of fur covered shoes. "How about these?"
"Why am I still friends with you?"
"Because I'm the only person who will tolerate you?" Ginny picked up the fur shoes, moving to a pair of smoking slippers with a gold scorpion on the front. "Plus, I have a charming personality, good looks, and a mouth dirtier than Hagrid's socks."
Draco paled. "I have an image of you with Hagrid's socks in your mouth stuck in my head."
"Gross," Ginny said, handing her two picks to the sales lady. "Just for that image, you're getting the hot pink loafers with the diamond skull and bones."
"I'll give it to one of my house e—servants," Draco said. "They'll be overjoyed."
"If you do, I will take a picture of them in your closet to send to the Prophet," Ginny said.
"You wouldn't," Draco scoffed.
"Or would I?" Ginny raised both eyebrows and placed her hands on her hip.
Draco knew that look well. They had only been friends for two years, but after a particularly embarrassing lesson of waking up in the middle of a Muggle park with nothing but a pink feather boa, he’d learned that Ginny Weasley was not one to back down from a challenge. She was the embodiment of Fred and George Weasley with a mean streak and a perfect set of tits.
"Fine." Draco picked up a pair of leather loafers. "I won't give them away."
"Good boy," Ginny said. She stretched and yawned. "I could use a nap before we go to dinner tonight."
"We can skip the rest of the list," Draco said idly. "I'll push my tailor’s appointment to tomorrow and go through some catalogue for mother's present."
"It's not like you have much else to do," Ginny said. "I honestly have no idea how you can not work or do anything productive all day."
"It's called having enough money to not care," Draco said.
Ginny laughed. "I suppose. I just wouldn't be able to sit at home all day. We're in off-season now and I can't even take a vacation."
The two friends parted ways outside the entrance to Diagon Alley, but Draco's mind kept going over Ginny's statement about his life. It was true. He had nothing to do all day except make the occasional charity appearance or meet with the bank to discuss his inheritance. The company was run by people he hired, since he knew he wouldn’t thrive in the business world, and the Malfoy estate did not need his attention while his mother sat at its helm. So he spent his days planning vacations for himself, shopping, and meeting up with his friends. What else was there to do?
Diagon Alley was bright and crowded when Draco arrived near Fusion. The alley had come into the new age, shining and sparkling, mostly in part to the generous donations of three families: the Malfoys, the Zabinis, and the Notts. Together, the three former Slytherins had funded a renovation effort in Diagon Alley. The three boys had been sent to stay in America for a few months after their graduation from Hogwarts while their family members stood trial, and they had been impressed with the nightlife of the various cities. It was one thing the Wizarding world had been lacking in Great Britain.
On their return from their "vacation," they had gathered together and proposed a foundation for the renewal of the Wizarding hub. It took a year to fix the one lane street and expand the district, creating more room as well as more off streets. Empty buildings were built to allow for new stores and restaurants, and the infamous Knockturn Alley was not kept out of the renewal effort—the streets were cleaned, storefronts were redone, and the alley was no longer as scary as it used to be.
Of course, this also meant that the three families, who had split the ownership of the various buildings, now owned Diagon Alley. They were leased to various vendors, and Draco had invested money into the setup of the most prestigious, well-to-do nightclub in Diagon Alley. The clientele was specific to notable faces and pretty women. Ginny often joked that it was a closet whorehouse, and Draco couldn't completely deny her statement. But pretty women meant happy men, and happy men meant good business.
As he rounded on the new restaurant, he noticed flashing lights and a crowd of people. Upon closer inspection, he realized that there was a press area as well as a carpet, which flashed various colors, leading into the restaurant. He moved closer to the building, noticing the steady stream of notable faces that milled outside the restaurant. He could only deduce that they were hosting an event of some sort. He was not too keen on the idea of eating at the restaurant when they were throwing a party, and he knew Ginny would agree, although she would be disappointed. She had read about their opening in the Daily Prophet and mentioned going every day for a week.
A small group of teenage girls passed the restaurant, stopping to point at someone in the middle of a crowd. "Look! It's Ginny Weasley!"
"Well played, Weasley," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pocket and approaching the crowd of famous faces.
In the middle of the crowd, waving to photographers and signing autographs for her fans, was the record-scoring chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. If there was one thing that Draco had to admit Ginny did well, it was public appearances. While her casual, day-to-day style consisted of baggy clothes and wild colors, her outfits for parties and events always stunned crowds. For example, tonight, she wore a champagne dress so tight that he wouldn't have been able to fit parchment between it and her body. Her burgundy red hair was left in big curls that draped down her back perfectly, even when she tousled it for the cameras. And her shoes, which Draco realized she had probably planned to wear from the start, were thin-heeled strappy things that she would no doubt complain about all night.
Ginny looked up and saw him, brown eyes flashing with amusement as she approached him. Smiling, she said, "Hello, princess.”
"Your tits look phenomenal," Draco said, his eyes focused on the valley in between her breasts. "Do you know how much women pay to get those?"
Ginny looked down and shrugged. "More than they're worth, I assure you. The back pain really just isn't worth it. Besides, small breasts are a lot more clothing-versatile."
"You could wear a trash bag, and men would still want you for that lovely set you have on your chest." He allowed her to loop arms with him. "Now, am I to assume that you were planning on wearing those torture devices on your feet before we made our deal?"
"It's more fun to make you think that you're winning," Ginny said.
"Yes, it is more fun when I win," Draco said. "I'll be staring at your tits all night until you squirm in your seat."
"A rip-my-clothes-off-now squirm? Or a creepy-dirty-man squirm?" asked Ginny, stopping to pose for a picture with a fan. "So?"
"A mix of both," Draco said nonchalantly. "I imagine one more hour in that dress, and you'll want me to cut you out of it anyway."
"You're right. Breathing is definitely restricted, but again, my bum looks phenomenal in this. Take a look," Ginny said, sticking her derriere out in a lewd manner.
"We're in public," Draco said, eyeing her behind. "And you're right."
"They're all paying attention to the new girl on the team. She might outshine me in the showing-of-the-assets category," Ginny said, trying to get a peek of her blonde teammate. "She's hell on a broom though and hits a Bludger better than the twins."
"So what is this event that you tricked me into?" asked Draco. "You could have used the age-old method of asking me to accompany you."
"Not nearly as fun," Ginny said. "It's just the opening party for Fusion. Lucy, our new PR lady, decided we needed a little off-season face time. She sent all of us a list of different events that we can go to, and we're contractually required to do at least seven of them."
"Trying to get more popularity?" asked Draco, steely faced for the cameras.
"I suppose," Ginny said, smiling. "Now put on that debonair look that made you Britain's Hottest Bachelor and make me look good."
They did a few pictures together before Draco stepped aside to allow her time alone. She laughed with the photographers, made faces at them, and then waved as she walked away—her arse swishing invitingly. He saw more than one of the men put down their cameras to get a better look, and he knew that she was doing it on purpose. That star power was why Ginny Weasley was the face of the Holyhead Harpies. There was never an article written about the team that didn't have her picture in it. She was their star, and they paid her more money than she knew what to do with because of the way she could command a crowd’s attention.
He joined her inside the restaurant, unimpressed by the modern Asian decor. "It smells like fish in here."
"I had a comment about the amount of women in here on the tip of my tongue, but that wouldn't be very appropriate," Ginny said, pointing to a table for two. "Come on, let's get a table for two before we get wrangled into joining other people."
"Not feeling social tonight, are we?" He pulled out her chair before sitting across from her. "You picked a great spot to not be social in."
"Hey, the food is supposed to be good. That's all that matters," Ginny said, looking around the room. She leaned over and wriggled her hands. "Hands-y Marcus is here, by the way. Keep your body between his and mine or I might end up in Ministry confinement tonight. He had the nerve to try and slap my arse a few nights ago at your club."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "You went to my club without me?"
"The night you were shagging the Romanian girl," Ginny said.
"Romanian girl?" Draco thought back.
"Tall, leggy, blonde hair that didn't match her down—“
"Oh, her," Draco said, nodding. "You really do have a dirty mouth."
"It's been two years. You can't honestly still be shocked," Ginny said, smiling at the waitress. "Hi."
They put in their orders and did complimentary sake bombs. While they waited for their food, Ginny signed a few autographs for some of her annoying male fans, and Draco glared at hands-y Marcus in order to deter him from coming over to their table. He would have to have a word with the staff at the nightclub about watching Ginny while she was there.
When their sushi arrived, Draco proposed his new plan to Ginny. It had come to him after their shopping trip, while he had been mulling over what to do with his days. It had begun to bother him that he really seemed to have nothing to keep himself entertained, despite all his money. Then he realized that he had everything to keep himself entertained because of his money. His options were limitless.
"I'm making a bucket list," he announced.
Ginny paused mid-bite. "Draco, is everything alright? You were looking a little peaky last week. Is that it? Do you have some sort of terminal illness?"
"Peaky? I did not look peaky," Draco denied.
"No illness, then?" Ginny asked.
"No," he replied, still ruffled by the peaky comment. "I was thinking earlier--"
"That is news," Ginny said, giggling. She stopped when he glared at her. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
"Keep giggling, I can almost see a nipple," Draco drawled. "Care to give a peep show tonight?"
"I could make a sizable amount off it," Ginny joked.
"As I was saying, I was thinking about earlier when you said I do nothing all day," Draco said, pushing away one of the sushi rolls on his plate. "You're right. I don't do anything. So I decided to make a list of all the things I want to do and do them."
"For example?" Ginny pressed.
"Tomorrow, you and I are going to Dubai to start,” Draco said proudly.
Ginny’s mouth snapped shut. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I booked a private Portkey and made hotel arrangements for us.” Draco held his hand up when she began to get red in the face. “Listen, you have nothing to do at the moment, except keep in shape. You can do that in Dubai. The hotel has an indoor and outdoor professional Quidditch pitch, jogging track included. We’re young. We’re well off, me more so than you, and we have some time off.”
“Having time off implies that you have time on—doing something, anything,” Ginny snapped irritably. “How could you decide that I would take a trip without asking first?”
“It’s a trip with yours truly,” Draco said, eating a piece of sushi. “Who wouldn’t want to go?”
Ginny’s lips twitched, though her face remained serious. “I have events to attend.”
“We’re only a Portkey away from home,” Draco said. “Don’t you even want to hear what we’ll be doing?”
“I’m terrified,” Ginny said. She sighed and called over a waitress. “I need four sake bombs.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Okay, what are you planning for us if—and that is a large if—I go to Dubai?” Ginny cringed as he began to speak.
“Well, first, we’re going to go riding with a company called Extreme Carpeting,” Draco said.
“Oh Merlin,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “Not Magic Carpets.”
“It’s safe. They come highly recommended,” Draco said, waving her worries off. “They’re going to take us on one of their signature, high speed rides. Then we’ll go camel riding.”
“Camel riding?” Ginny thanked the waitress and did a sake bomb, glaring at the photographer snapping pictures. “Why would we ride camels?”
“To get to the restaurant that has the best food on the Persian Gulf,” Draco said as if it were obvious. “Then the next day, I planned for us to learn to drive Muggle cars.”
“Are you trying to die? Is this some sort of bucket-list-before-I-kill-myself sort of thing?” Ginny finished her third sake bomb. “Do you want the last one?”
“I suspect you better have it. I’ll have to throw you over my shoulders to get you out of here,” Draco said. “So will you go?”
“On one condition,” Ginny said, pausing to do the fourth sake bomb. “I get to pick some things to do as well.”
“Well, we’ll be in Dubai for three days. Then I want to head to Italy and tour some vineyards. I’ve always wanted to own a vineyard,” Draco said. “I’ll have my assistant prepare clothes for you. I’ll give her your sizes.”
“How do you even know my sizes?” Ginny held up a finger when he moved to talk. “And why can’t I bring my own clothes?”
“Dubai has a strict dress code policy for women. I wouldn’t want you to get arrested,” Draco said. “It’s better this way.”
“I won’t be able to convince you otherwise, will I?”
“You can try. I’ll have fun watching,” Draco said with a smirk. “What else are you going to do for the next two weeks until training officially starts?”
“You’re the most frustarating—wait, no, frustorting—frustr—annoying person I have ever met,” Ginny finished.
Draco chuckled, moving a plate of wasabi before Ginny’s elbow could land in it. “You are the biggest lightweight I have ever met.”
“Shove off!”
“You first, darling.”
“Don’t say, darling,” Ginny said, rolling her ‘r.’ “It sounds perverted.”
“Whatever you say, darling.”
“I’m going to commit suicide on this trip. I can see the headlines now, ‘Quidditch Star Offs Herself after Forced Adventure with Britain’s Hottest Bachelor.’” Ginny giggled.
“Tomorrow’s headline will be ‘Quidditch Star Carried out of Restaurant on the Back of Courageous Malfoy Bachelor,’” Draco retorted.
Ginny snorted. “You would paint yourself in a flattering light.”
“You’re the one, who keeps reminding me of my ‘Hottest Bachelor’ status,” Draco said amusedly. “Which I am, of course.”
Ginny sighed. “When I kill myself on this trip, just let my family know I love them. You’ll have a chance when my brothers come to kill you.”
“I’ll get away in the Muggle car I buy after I learn to drive,” Draco said. “I might not have any use for it, but I might as well have one.”
“Merlin, help me.”
“Merlin’s dead,” Draco deadpanned.
Author notes: This story is completed in three chapters. So I will be posting them regularly.
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