The following morning, Draco was greeted in the foyer of his townhome by a groggy Ginny, sporting a pair of his sweatpants and an undershirt she had most likely pilfered from his room. Her hair was in a disheveled ponytail, and she had sunglasses on, even though the foyer was dim. She scrunched her nose and gripped the handrail, her head slipping forward slightly. Having seen that motion before, Draco took the vial in his hand and stuck it under her nose.
“Have this,” Draco said. He wrinkled his nose at her appearance. “And I had one of the house elves put a set of robes in your room. You should put those on and try using that thing we call a brush. Your nest is crooked.”
Ginny swallowed the nausea potion with a wince. “Why didn’t you stop me after I did those four sake bombs in a row?”
“Who am I to stop your fun and my amusement?” Draco adjusted the cuff of his robes, a sly grin on his face. “Besides, you’re more fun at the nightclub when you’re sloshed.”
“If I didn’t think it would hurt me more than you, I would hit you,” Ginny grumbled. She groaned. “Did I really dance on the bar last night?”
“I never knew string could be considered knickers now,” Draco drawled.
“Please tell me no one else saw,” Ginny begged.
“I had security handle it. Your reputation as an upstanding party girl still remains.” He looked at his watch. “Now, I need you in your robes and decent in fifteen minutes. I Flooed to let the hotel know we would be arriving at the top of the hour.”
“Yes, Master,” Ginny mimed, turning on her heels.
Within minutes, she reappeared in a set of figure hugging charcoal robes, hair in a neat braid over her shoulder. Her face still looked pale, and her sunglasses were propped on her head, but she looked presentable and less peaky.
“Alright, let’s do this thing,” Ginny said, pulling at the top of her robes. “Could you have gotten me a more fitted robe?”
“Contrary to your beliefs, Weasley, robes are actually supposed to fit your body,” Draco said, holding out an ornate vase for her to grasp. “I had my tailor adjust them to your size—well my assistant’s size. But you and Lillian are approximately the same. I had him give you a little more space for your tits. You really can’t find a set like that on another girl.”
“It’s a borderline obsession for you now, isn’t it?” Ginny shook her head. “Two years and you still haven’t managed to kick your penchant for my breasts.”
“It’s a disease,” Draco said with a shrug.
“If you’re good, you can touch one for three seconds,” Ginny teased.
Draco knew it was a joke—one that had begun early in their friendship when Draco had popped into her flat unannounced to find her in her underthings. Drunk, he had blurted out how lovely her tits were, and the joke was born. However, the thought of actually touching them stirred an interest of sorts, and he quickly shook it off. It had to be a lingering side effect of the previous night’s protectiveness—something about Marcus Flint’s attempt to follow them around last night had stirred a sense of protectiveness in him that he couldn’t explain—and there was the fact that he hadn’t shagged anyone in a few days.
“Well, we’ll be in the same suite so my room door is only a step away,” Draco said with a wink.
“In your dreams,” Ginny rebuked.
“And what lovely dreams they are—tits everywhere,” Draco said.
“A fetish. You have a breast fetish,” Ginny said, laughing at his expression. “I could sell that to the public for thousands of Galleons. Can you imagine? Girls would be outside your door with their shirts off.”
Draco looked thoughtful. “In that case, maybe I should have you do that. It would be a nice view to enjoy while I’m drinking coffee.”
“Unless someone’s grandmother is a cougar and decides to show up at your door without a shirt,” Ginny said. “Just a warning, gravity kicks in after awhile.”
“You’re cruel,” Draco said, shuddering at the image she conjured in his head.
“You must be rubbing off on me,” Ginny said sweetly.
“I can’t say I’ve been rubbing any part of you,” Draco said. “You would need to ask for that service.”
“Are you for hire now?” asked Ginny, waggling her eyebrows. “I could have a few uses for someone like you.”
“You couldn’t afford me, Weasley. I’m priceless,” he said haughtily.
“So do I get you for free then?” she asked, leaning forward so he had a good view of her cleavage.
He leaned close to her, inches apart. “I’m never free, darling. There’s always a payment.”
The vase in their hands began to glow blue, and the two of them held on as a familiar sucking feeling overtook them. Their feet were off the ground for longer than usual before they landed—stumbling into a room with sparse furniture and plush royal blue carpets. A gilded mirror hung on the wall opposite their landing site, revealing that while Draco had been perfectly fine with the trip, Ginny looked a little green.
“Don’t vomit on the carpet. It’s not a good introduction,” Draco said, stepping back a few steps.
“Yes, because that is how I love to greet people. ‘Hi, how are you? Mind if I just regurgitate on your rug? Thanks,’” Ginny said.
“It’s only been two years. I don’t know everything about you,” Draco said, setting the vase down on a nearby table. “You do have strange habits.”
“Name one,” Ginny said, rubbing her stomach with an expression of pain on her face.
“You like putting peanut butter on your Pumpkin Pasties,” Draco said, disgusted. “Peanut butter is so plebian.”
Ginny opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. “I won’t bother responding to that one. Where are we?”
“The Portkey point for the hotel,” Draco said.
“Nice,” Ginny breathed.
Two double doors opened, revealing a man in blue robes. “Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley, welcome. I hope your travel went well.”
“My friend has a weak stomach,” Draco said.
“Let me get you some tea.” He removed his wand from his sleeve and twirled it in the air three times, emitting glittering blue sparks. “It will be in your room.”
“Thank you,” Ginny said, a little unsure.
“I am Raj. I will be your personal butler. I will show you to your suite,” he said, gesturing towards the doors. “We will be going to the 126th floor. It is the highest point in the hotel and affords the best view of the Persian Gulf.”
“Good,” Draco said. “We should have two of the associates from Extreme Carpeting arriving for us at eleven. Let me know when they arrive.”
“Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” Raj opened the lift doors for them, and the group stepped onto the platform. “Should I have breakfast delivered to your room? You must still be on London time.”
“Yes,” Draco said. He looked at Ginny, who seemed to be holding onto the railing with a steel grip. “Make sure there is fresh fruit and maybe some toast.”
Raj looked at the redhead and nodded. “We have a special tea for such stomachaches. I will make it for you when we get to the suite. Follow me to your private lift”
Draco spent the ride creating room between him and Ginny, wanting to avoid getting sick on him should she decide to empty her stomach. Thankfully, they reached the palatial suite without incident.
“This is beautiful,” Ginny said, turning in a circle.
“Ah, yes. The magical community of Dubai is located on an island in the Persian Gulf. The main land is accessible to us, but we do not need it.” Raj pointed out one of the windows to his left. “The Muggles have spent an increasing amount of time installing new technologies into the city, and it is better to keep magical interference away from them.”
“Is the magical community large in Dubai?” asked Ginny.
“One of the largest,” Draco said. He nodded to Raj. “Ms. Weasley would like that tea before the tour.”
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Raj said with a slight nod. “I will see to it.”
“Our company has a research division on the island,” Draco said. He led Ginny down the gold painted stairs that led into an extravagant, jewel toned sitting room. “The community here is large and rich in history. The island is almost as big as the main land and has a large desert that researchers have been attempting to traverse for years.”
“What are they looking for?”
Draco shrugged. “History.”
“Is there something for your company to gain from it?” asked Ginny. “It doesn’t seem like them to do things for the purpose of knowledge. That would be too Hermione Granger for them.”
“There are secrets that were lost throughout time, according to the legends. Secrets about the first magical child, and some people believe those secrets are in that desert,” Draco said. They stood inches away from the wall of glass that afforded them a panoramic view of the ocean and the island. “It’s right out there.”
“Is that where this restaurant is that we will be having lunch?”
“Yes,” Draco said. He cocked his head to the side. “I’ll have to see the arrangements for the camel.”
“And let’s not forget the other part of our deal,” Ginny said, waggling her finger at him. “I get to pick some of the things on this list as well.”
“If you must,” Draco said. “You can send a letter to Lillian with everything you need. She will arrange it.”
“Have I ever told you how absurd it is that you have an assistant and no job?” Ginny grinned at him. “How much could you possibly have to do?”
“She isn’t my assistant. She’s my social secretary. Who else will keep my appointments in order?” He moved to the sidebar and helped himself to a glass of amber liquid. “I do have a busy social life.”
“Partying, drinking, and going to dinner every night,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how you find time for me.”
“It is a mystery,” Draco said, sniffing the drink before taking a sip. “Smooth.”
“Is that Fi—“
“Scotch,” Raj said, appearing at her side with a cup of tea. “The island brews some of the best. You cannot find it on the main land as they are more strict with their laws, another reason we suggest visitors be wary of heading into Muggle areas. It becomes an ordeal to free tourists from the prisons. Shall we see about that tour?”
Draco and Ginny followed Raj through the suite, each room revealing more sumptuous luxuries than the last. The décor was a mix of circus meets modern, everything in a rich jewel tone—emerald, topaz, sapphire, and ruby red. It was almost too much for the eye to take in but just enough. The suite consisted of three floors, both bedrooms on the lower floor. Raj showed them into their rooms, which were decorated in a rich purple and gold.
“Is everything to your satisfaction?” asked Raj.
“Yes, it will do,” Draco said.
“It’s beautiful,” Ginny added, running her finger across the silky bed curtains.
Raj inclined his head. “Thank you. Your clothing arrived last night, and I have taken the liberty of packing it away. If there is anything else you need, ask me. I can get you the proper attire for every occasion.”
Draco nodded. “Breakfast?”
“I will have it prepared and in the dining room,” Raj said.
“You’re dismissed.” Draco waved him away.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”
“That was rude,” Ginny said, sticking her head in the bathroom. “Is this a pool or a bath tub?”
“If his feelings are easily hurt, he should look into a different career.” Draco opened the doors to the closet and found the clothing Lillian had picked out for Ginny. “I assume this is your room.”
Ginny stood next to him, her shoulder brushing against his. “Unless you have a fetish for wearing female clothing as well as your breast fetish.”
“They’re too small for me,” Draco said.
“That implies you’re large,” Ginny replied.
Draco turned to face her and smirked. “You have no idea how large I am.”
“Only if you’re referring to your ego,” Ginny retorted.
“If you’re not careful, I might have to prove exactly how incorrect you are,” Draco said. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re after, Ms. Weasley?”
“Mr. Malfoy, I will always be the one girl you couldn’t quite get into bed,” Ginny whispered. “Remember?”
“Oh now that sounds like a challenge,” Draco said. He sidestepped her, leaning over to whisper into her ear. “And we know how you and I both feel about challenges.”
“Breakfast should be ready,” Ginny said, turning her head away. “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, but I might be making some changes to my bucket list too,” Draco said with a wink. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”
He began his walk to his room, thinking about friendship with the redhead. It had started with a blind date gone wrong. A Weasley and a Malfoy on a date was a ridiculous idea. They had spent the entire night getting pissed and talking about their woeful Canadian friends. The two of them walked back to her flat—well, she stumbled—and parted ways without so much as a kiss. The next morning, he bumped into her at his coffee shop, and they made joking plans to meet again for another night of drinking. Before they could make any sort of plans, they ran into each other at his nightclub. She was on a date, and he was in desperate need of a good shag. Somehow, after all was said and done, she ended up passed out on his guest room bed, which eventually just became her room.
Drinking started their friendship. It was easy to forget last names and blood feuds when you had six shots in you and more at hand. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty. In fact, it worked out well. She didn’t have to work to find someone to accompany her to social functions and neither did he. They had a mutual understanding, one that never involved sex. Teasing, yes. Touching, more often than not. Sex, no. They were friends. Women and men could be friends contrary to popular opinion.
Draco let himself into his room and sank down on the bed. There were never any issues with their understanding. They would flirt. They would use innuendo. They would be suggestive. They would not have sex.
Their understanding had worked well until a memorable night out in Germany. Well, it wasn’t actually memorable—neither one of them could remember a thing about it. She had lost a game and spent the evening in her hotel room, drinking away her sorrows. The next morning, she was draped across him, clothed, with hickeys on her neck. They couldn’t remember what happened, but it was a good assumption that there had been a little more than just playful touching. More than once he had been tempted to try a Pensieve, but he always resisted. It was better not knowing. But things had changed since then, and he knew it was the same for her.
Thoughts that weren’t there before now surfaced. She blushed sometimes when he touched her, just the faintest pink tinge instead of her usual angry tomato red that was wholly unattractive. For two weeks after the incident, neither one of them made one suggestive innuendo until the entire thing was a faded memory—one they couldn’t remember of course.
He fixed his hair in the mirror and straightened his robes. They were friends. Sex was not involved.
~~~~~~~~
“Are you two ready for some extreme carpet riding?”
Draco nodded, dragging Ginny behind him. “We’re ready.”
“I really don’t feel comfortable being up in the air without something between my legs,” Ginny whispered furiously.
“I can certainly help you out if you wish,” Draco said, pulling her towards him.
Ginny slapped his chest. “Now is not the right time.”
“Unless my parents are around, it is always the right time,” Draco said. He stepped onto the carpet, which was lying on the floor. “Come on, Weasley.”
“I think I could just take a day at the spa,” Ginny said. “Right?”
“Alright, enough,” Draco dragged her to him, holding her in a tight embrace. “You’re a Quidditch player. You can’t be afraid of a flying carpet.”
“I most certainly can,” Ginny said, struggling against him.
Draco groaned. “Keep doing that and this ride will get a lot more comfortable.”
She stilled. “Can’t keep control, Malfoy?”
“I can,” he said. He held her closer to him. “It’s more fun for you if I don’t.”
“For you too, I assure you,” Ginny said. She shoved him back. “Shall we get this done?”
“In public? I never took you for that type of girl, Weasley.” Draco took a seat on the carpet, and Ginny sat next to him. “We’re ready.”
“Alright,” the man said. “I’m Vil, your driver. Is this your first time on a carpet?”
“Yes,” Draco said.
“Alright, a few rules,” Vil said. He clapped his hands together. “Sit side by side on the carpet. You’ll want to keep the weight even. Don’t want anyone falling off.”
“Has that happened?” Ginny clenched Draco’s hand.
“We—“
“Perfectly safe,” Draco said. He turned to the man with cold eyes. “Correct?”
“The safest,” Vil said, clearing his throat. “But please keep all body parts on the carpet. We don’t want anyone—keep yourself on the carpet.”
“This is the worst idea,” Ginny said, squeezing Draco’s hand with an ever-tightening grip. “I’m going to end up splat on some building.”
“Off we go,” Vil said.
It was like flying on a broom with legs crossed. The wind rushed past him, whistling in his ears. Around him, the ground disappeared, and the sky and ocean became his only visual. His skin tingled with goose bumps, and his hand was numb from Ginny’s grip. Her body shivered against his own, and she moved closer to him.
“This is insane.” She looped an arm through his, closing her eyes tightly. “Incredibly insane and I’m not sure I’m enjoying it.”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Draco drawled. “There are a hundred thousand things to see from up here, and you’ll miss all of it.”
Ginny opened one eye and looked at him. “That sounds oddly familiar.”
The carpet dipped, and Ginny’s hand tightened around his bicep. Vil turned back and smiled at them before taking them into a twist through a mountain pass. It was on their way over a cul-de-sac in the Persian Gulf when the carpet began to tremble. The speed increased, and Vil seemed a little shaky in his steering. When the carpet began to stop and go, Draco felt Ginny’s nails digging into his skin.
“I think something’s wrong,” Ginny said.
“No, no. We’re fin—“ Vil was cut off by the further stuttering of the carpet. “I’m going to coast us down.”
Except coasting them down did not happen. As the carpet moved closer to the rock ledge overlooking the cul-de-sac, the three passengers were wrapped in a tangled heap of unmoving fabric. On instinct, Draco wrapped his arms around Ginny, his body twisting to hold her. Vil twisted out of the carpet, and it fell away from the three, floating down to the ground. Before he could remove his wand from his sleeve, searing pain shot through his body on all sides. Then it went quiet.
~~~~~~~~
Draco came to consciousness, his body aching. His eyes felt as if they had been sealed shut, and he couldn’t move a single muscle. Images of falling flashed behind his lids, and a strangled sound escaped his throat. The noise caused a reaction of shuffling sounds around him, which made him aware of the fact that he was not alone.
“Ginny?”
“Thank Merlin. You crazy man.” He heard Ginny’s voice and tried to move. “Stop whatever you’re doing right now. I have some potions to give you. Don’t struggle.”
He felt soft fingers on his mouth, loosening his lips. “Ungh.”
“Shh,” Ginny cooed. “I’m going to have to massage your throat to get you to swallow.”
Liquid rushed past his lips, and he felt a warm hand on his throat, gently kneading. She murmured words of encouragement as potion after potion was poured into his mouth. The pain began to recede, and his head felt light. His entire body slipped into a state of near numbness, the pain a buzzing in the back of his mind. He opened his eyes to a vision of red.
“Sorry,” Ginny said, swiping her hair out of the way. She looked at him with wide brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not feeling anything now,” he whispered hoarsely. He looked around and saw familiar purple décor. “How did we get back?”
“Well, after you played hero, you and Vil were both unconscious. I tried to bring you back, but you kept slipping out because of the pain. So I shot red sparks into the air, and eventually a team of Aurors arrived to investigate.” Ginny put the last of the vials on the side table. “They helped me get you back here, and we called in a Healer.”
“Where is he?”
“She,” Ginny corrected. “She came, assessed you, and left me with the proper potions to administer when you woke up. Obviously you’re feeling better. Can I get you anything?”
“How did I get in these clothes?” he asked, looking down at his pajama-clothed body.
“I had to change you,” Ginny said, her cheeks pink tinged.
He chuckled, wincing at the pain that shot through his head. “Got a nice show, did you?”
“I didn’t realize that you liked to go without underpants,” Ginny said, hurriedly getting off the bed.
“I like the freedom every once in a while,” he said shrugging.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go to bed then. The Healer said you would feel tired after the potions. So goodnight.”
“Ginny?”
“Yes?” She paused in the doorway and looked back. “Do you need a drink or anything?”
Draco smirked. “Did I meet the challenge?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re fighting fit, Malfoy. Goodnight.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” he shouted after her.
“Which is why I said that,” came the delayed reply.
Draco chuckled, his eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~
A few hours later, Draco awoke in confusion. The moon was still shining brightly outside his window, and he couldn’t figure out why he woke up. He shifted around in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, although it was in vain.
“I could use a dr—“
A moan interrupted his whisper, followed by a shouted “No!”
Upon hearing Ginny scream, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand and moved as quickly as he could into the hallway. He could still hear Ginny’s moans, but there was no one at her doorway. Peeking into the room, he saw that she was in bed, the sheets twisted around her. She kicked an errant pillow across the bed, and she moaned incoherent words in her sleep. His ultimate plan was to wake her up and relieve her from the nightmares. But a small part of him wanted to look away, to stop seeing this confident, fearless woman so frightened.
“Ginny,” Draco whispered, moving closer. “Ginny, wake up. You’re just dreaming.”
He reached out and touched her shoulder, gently nudging her. But instead of slowly waking up, she flew out of her sleep, a hand automatically reaching out to shove him away. He ended up sprawled on the floor, coughing as he felt remembered pain from falling onto the rock ledge.
“Draco! I’m so sorry,” Ginny said, scrambling out of the bed. “You scared me.”
“You were screaming and moaning in your sleep—and not the good kind,” Draco said, rubbing his chest. “You really are strong.”
“I play Quidditch for a living,” she said, helping him into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“Let’s recall our day, shall we?” He eased himself into a standing position. “I came to Dubai. We checked into the hotel. The two of us went on a carpet ride. Oh and did I mention I fell off the carpet?”
“This was your idea,” Ginny said. She straightened the sheets on her bed before climbing in. “Sit. You shouldn’t be standing so long after your fall.”
“Which one?” he joked.
“Sorry,” she said, patting his leg. “You’ll survive though.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m not the one who fell,” she said, slipping her legs under the covers.
“You did fall, but that was not what I was questioning.” He pointed to her sweat soaked shirt. “You were having nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”
“These were a little different,” she said quietly. “But I’m fine.”
“I’ll leave then,” Draco said, moving to get off the bed.
“Wait,” Ginny said, gripping his arm. She released him, sliding down under the covers and resting her head on the pillow. “I was in the Chamber, and Harry didn’t come. But you were there, and you were trying to save me. The Basilisk came and ki—he—I’m glad you’re okay.”
He propped his back against the headboard, his body parallel to hers. Looking down at her, he smiled. “I’m from the house of snakes, Ginny. It doesn’t matter how big and scary the snake looks, I’m not dying from a snake bite.”
“You probably have the same poison in your veins,” she said, her voice wavering.
“There’s a good chance,” he said. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “At least you didn’t dream of falling.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he opened his eyes to see her gazing up at him. Her brown eyes shimmered under the dim moonlight, and she placed a palm against his leg. He could feel her body heat through his pajama pants.
“You scared me today,” she whispered. She shook her head. “When I landed on you and rolled over, you weren’t responding and barely breathing. Not to mention the bruises everywhere across your body.”
“It’s over now,” Draco said.
“Draco, can I ask you a favor?” She looked down at her pillow, refusing eye contact. “I know that we have our boundaries, but can you stay here tonight? Or I can stay in your room and sleep on the sofa? I would even sleep on the floor. Just don’t leave me to those nightmares again, not the ones about —well, you know.”
“I’ll stay,” Draco said, his entire body tense.
“I can sleep on the floor or sofa,” Ginny offered.
“Quiet,” Draco said. He slipped under the covers, resting his head on one of the plush pillows. “Go to sleep.”
“Thank you,” Ginny said, moving closer to him. He could feel her breath on his ear. “I will never go on another magic carpet.”
“Yes, you like things between your legs,” he said quietly.
“You really don’t stay down for long,” Ginny said with a smile.
“I assure you that I stay up as long as you need me to,” Draco said with a suggestive twinkle in his eye. “After all, I am a gentleman and strongly believe ladies come first.”
“If you’re good enough, they will,” Ginny said, giggling. “We are a perverted pair.”
“It’s hard to think about anything but sex when your tits are on such lovely display for me,” Draco said, looking down at the camisole that clung to her breasts in a delectable manner. “They are rather distracting.”
“You and my breasts,” Ginny sighed.
“That could be a song,” Draco said.
Ginny shifted her body around before settling on her side, facing Draco. “Are you alright? Mentally, not physically.”
“You’re the one having nightmares,” Draco said. He turned his head to the side, looking into concerned brown eyes. “Yes, I will heal and be fine. For now, let’s try and get some rest before the sun comes up.”
“Goodnight, Draco.”
Draco looked down at the redhead, her eyes closing. He had an overwhelming urge to cradle her to him, to tell her that he would make sure nothing ever harmed her. It wasn’t a foreign feeling. He had felt it the previous night when Marcus attempted to have a conversation with her, and it had clawed at him many times before—especially considering the overzealous fans, who often sent her inappropriate letters and attempted to stalk her. Her vulnerability, which she rarely showed him, fueled a desire to constantly be around her and guarantee her safety. It wasn’t a foreign feeling of late, but it was a feeling he had never before experienced until Ginevra Weasley.
“Goodnight, Ginny.”
“Have this,” Draco said. He wrinkled his nose at her appearance. “And I had one of the house elves put a set of robes in your room. You should put those on and try using that thing we call a brush. Your nest is crooked.”
Ginny swallowed the nausea potion with a wince. “Why didn’t you stop me after I did those four sake bombs in a row?”
“Who am I to stop your fun and my amusement?” Draco adjusted the cuff of his robes, a sly grin on his face. “Besides, you’re more fun at the nightclub when you’re sloshed.”
“If I didn’t think it would hurt me more than you, I would hit you,” Ginny grumbled. She groaned. “Did I really dance on the bar last night?”
“I never knew string could be considered knickers now,” Draco drawled.
“Please tell me no one else saw,” Ginny begged.
“I had security handle it. Your reputation as an upstanding party girl still remains.” He looked at his watch. “Now, I need you in your robes and decent in fifteen minutes. I Flooed to let the hotel know we would be arriving at the top of the hour.”
“Yes, Master,” Ginny mimed, turning on her heels.
Within minutes, she reappeared in a set of figure hugging charcoal robes, hair in a neat braid over her shoulder. Her face still looked pale, and her sunglasses were propped on her head, but she looked presentable and less peaky.
“Alright, let’s do this thing,” Ginny said, pulling at the top of her robes. “Could you have gotten me a more fitted robe?”
“Contrary to your beliefs, Weasley, robes are actually supposed to fit your body,” Draco said, holding out an ornate vase for her to grasp. “I had my tailor adjust them to your size—well my assistant’s size. But you and Lillian are approximately the same. I had him give you a little more space for your tits. You really can’t find a set like that on another girl.”
“It’s a borderline obsession for you now, isn’t it?” Ginny shook her head. “Two years and you still haven’t managed to kick your penchant for my breasts.”
“It’s a disease,” Draco said with a shrug.
“If you’re good, you can touch one for three seconds,” Ginny teased.
Draco knew it was a joke—one that had begun early in their friendship when Draco had popped into her flat unannounced to find her in her underthings. Drunk, he had blurted out how lovely her tits were, and the joke was born. However, the thought of actually touching them stirred an interest of sorts, and he quickly shook it off. It had to be a lingering side effect of the previous night’s protectiveness—something about Marcus Flint’s attempt to follow them around last night had stirred a sense of protectiveness in him that he couldn’t explain—and there was the fact that he hadn’t shagged anyone in a few days.
“Well, we’ll be in the same suite so my room door is only a step away,” Draco said with a wink.
“In your dreams,” Ginny rebuked.
“And what lovely dreams they are—tits everywhere,” Draco said.
“A fetish. You have a breast fetish,” Ginny said, laughing at his expression. “I could sell that to the public for thousands of Galleons. Can you imagine? Girls would be outside your door with their shirts off.”
Draco looked thoughtful. “In that case, maybe I should have you do that. It would be a nice view to enjoy while I’m drinking coffee.”
“Unless someone’s grandmother is a cougar and decides to show up at your door without a shirt,” Ginny said. “Just a warning, gravity kicks in after awhile.”
“You’re cruel,” Draco said, shuddering at the image she conjured in his head.
“You must be rubbing off on me,” Ginny said sweetly.
“I can’t say I’ve been rubbing any part of you,” Draco said. “You would need to ask for that service.”
“Are you for hire now?” asked Ginny, waggling her eyebrows. “I could have a few uses for someone like you.”
“You couldn’t afford me, Weasley. I’m priceless,” he said haughtily.
“So do I get you for free then?” she asked, leaning forward so he had a good view of her cleavage.
He leaned close to her, inches apart. “I’m never free, darling. There’s always a payment.”
The vase in their hands began to glow blue, and the two of them held on as a familiar sucking feeling overtook them. Their feet were off the ground for longer than usual before they landed—stumbling into a room with sparse furniture and plush royal blue carpets. A gilded mirror hung on the wall opposite their landing site, revealing that while Draco had been perfectly fine with the trip, Ginny looked a little green.
“Don’t vomit on the carpet. It’s not a good introduction,” Draco said, stepping back a few steps.
“Yes, because that is how I love to greet people. ‘Hi, how are you? Mind if I just regurgitate on your rug? Thanks,’” Ginny said.
“It’s only been two years. I don’t know everything about you,” Draco said, setting the vase down on a nearby table. “You do have strange habits.”
“Name one,” Ginny said, rubbing her stomach with an expression of pain on her face.
“You like putting peanut butter on your Pumpkin Pasties,” Draco said, disgusted. “Peanut butter is so plebian.”
Ginny opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut. “I won’t bother responding to that one. Where are we?”
“The Portkey point for the hotel,” Draco said.
“Nice,” Ginny breathed.
Two double doors opened, revealing a man in blue robes. “Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley, welcome. I hope your travel went well.”
“My friend has a weak stomach,” Draco said.
“Let me get you some tea.” He removed his wand from his sleeve and twirled it in the air three times, emitting glittering blue sparks. “It will be in your room.”
“Thank you,” Ginny said, a little unsure.
“I am Raj. I will be your personal butler. I will show you to your suite,” he said, gesturing towards the doors. “We will be going to the 126th floor. It is the highest point in the hotel and affords the best view of the Persian Gulf.”
“Good,” Draco said. “We should have two of the associates from Extreme Carpeting arriving for us at eleven. Let me know when they arrive.”
“Of course, Mr. Malfoy.” Raj opened the lift doors for them, and the group stepped onto the platform. “Should I have breakfast delivered to your room? You must still be on London time.”
“Yes,” Draco said. He looked at Ginny, who seemed to be holding onto the railing with a steel grip. “Make sure there is fresh fruit and maybe some toast.”
Raj looked at the redhead and nodded. “We have a special tea for such stomachaches. I will make it for you when we get to the suite. Follow me to your private lift”
Draco spent the ride creating room between him and Ginny, wanting to avoid getting sick on him should she decide to empty her stomach. Thankfully, they reached the palatial suite without incident.
“This is beautiful,” Ginny said, turning in a circle.
“Ah, yes. The magical community of Dubai is located on an island in the Persian Gulf. The main land is accessible to us, but we do not need it.” Raj pointed out one of the windows to his left. “The Muggles have spent an increasing amount of time installing new technologies into the city, and it is better to keep magical interference away from them.”
“Is the magical community large in Dubai?” asked Ginny.
“One of the largest,” Draco said. He nodded to Raj. “Ms. Weasley would like that tea before the tour.”
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Raj said with a slight nod. “I will see to it.”
“Our company has a research division on the island,” Draco said. He led Ginny down the gold painted stairs that led into an extravagant, jewel toned sitting room. “The community here is large and rich in history. The island is almost as big as the main land and has a large desert that researchers have been attempting to traverse for years.”
“What are they looking for?”
Draco shrugged. “History.”
“Is there something for your company to gain from it?” asked Ginny. “It doesn’t seem like them to do things for the purpose of knowledge. That would be too Hermione Granger for them.”
“There are secrets that were lost throughout time, according to the legends. Secrets about the first magical child, and some people believe those secrets are in that desert,” Draco said. They stood inches away from the wall of glass that afforded them a panoramic view of the ocean and the island. “It’s right out there.”
“Is that where this restaurant is that we will be having lunch?”
“Yes,” Draco said. He cocked his head to the side. “I’ll have to see the arrangements for the camel.”
“And let’s not forget the other part of our deal,” Ginny said, waggling her finger at him. “I get to pick some of the things on this list as well.”
“If you must,” Draco said. “You can send a letter to Lillian with everything you need. She will arrange it.”
“Have I ever told you how absurd it is that you have an assistant and no job?” Ginny grinned at him. “How much could you possibly have to do?”
“She isn’t my assistant. She’s my social secretary. Who else will keep my appointments in order?” He moved to the sidebar and helped himself to a glass of amber liquid. “I do have a busy social life.”
“Partying, drinking, and going to dinner every night,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how you find time for me.”
“It is a mystery,” Draco said, sniffing the drink before taking a sip. “Smooth.”
“Is that Fi—“
“Scotch,” Raj said, appearing at her side with a cup of tea. “The island brews some of the best. You cannot find it on the main land as they are more strict with their laws, another reason we suggest visitors be wary of heading into Muggle areas. It becomes an ordeal to free tourists from the prisons. Shall we see about that tour?”
Draco and Ginny followed Raj through the suite, each room revealing more sumptuous luxuries than the last. The décor was a mix of circus meets modern, everything in a rich jewel tone—emerald, topaz, sapphire, and ruby red. It was almost too much for the eye to take in but just enough. The suite consisted of three floors, both bedrooms on the lower floor. Raj showed them into their rooms, which were decorated in a rich purple and gold.
“Is everything to your satisfaction?” asked Raj.
“Yes, it will do,” Draco said.
“It’s beautiful,” Ginny added, running her finger across the silky bed curtains.
Raj inclined his head. “Thank you. Your clothing arrived last night, and I have taken the liberty of packing it away. If there is anything else you need, ask me. I can get you the proper attire for every occasion.”
Draco nodded. “Breakfast?”
“I will have it prepared and in the dining room,” Raj said.
“You’re dismissed.” Draco waved him away.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”
“That was rude,” Ginny said, sticking her head in the bathroom. “Is this a pool or a bath tub?”
“If his feelings are easily hurt, he should look into a different career.” Draco opened the doors to the closet and found the clothing Lillian had picked out for Ginny. “I assume this is your room.”
Ginny stood next to him, her shoulder brushing against his. “Unless you have a fetish for wearing female clothing as well as your breast fetish.”
“They’re too small for me,” Draco said.
“That implies you’re large,” Ginny replied.
Draco turned to face her and smirked. “You have no idea how large I am.”
“Only if you’re referring to your ego,” Ginny retorted.
“If you’re not careful, I might have to prove exactly how incorrect you are,” Draco said. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re after, Ms. Weasley?”
“Mr. Malfoy, I will always be the one girl you couldn’t quite get into bed,” Ginny whispered. “Remember?”
“Oh now that sounds like a challenge,” Draco said. He sidestepped her, leaning over to whisper into her ear. “And we know how you and I both feel about challenges.”
“Breakfast should be ready,” Ginny said, turning her head away. “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, but I might be making some changes to my bucket list too,” Draco said with a wink. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”
He began his walk to his room, thinking about friendship with the redhead. It had started with a blind date gone wrong. A Weasley and a Malfoy on a date was a ridiculous idea. They had spent the entire night getting pissed and talking about their woeful Canadian friends. The two of them walked back to her flat—well, she stumbled—and parted ways without so much as a kiss. The next morning, he bumped into her at his coffee shop, and they made joking plans to meet again for another night of drinking. Before they could make any sort of plans, they ran into each other at his nightclub. She was on a date, and he was in desperate need of a good shag. Somehow, after all was said and done, she ended up passed out on his guest room bed, which eventually just became her room.
Drinking started their friendship. It was easy to forget last names and blood feuds when you had six shots in you and more at hand. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty. In fact, it worked out well. She didn’t have to work to find someone to accompany her to social functions and neither did he. They had a mutual understanding, one that never involved sex. Teasing, yes. Touching, more often than not. Sex, no. They were friends. Women and men could be friends contrary to popular opinion.
Draco let himself into his room and sank down on the bed. There were never any issues with their understanding. They would flirt. They would use innuendo. They would be suggestive. They would not have sex.
Their understanding had worked well until a memorable night out in Germany. Well, it wasn’t actually memorable—neither one of them could remember a thing about it. She had lost a game and spent the evening in her hotel room, drinking away her sorrows. The next morning, she was draped across him, clothed, with hickeys on her neck. They couldn’t remember what happened, but it was a good assumption that there had been a little more than just playful touching. More than once he had been tempted to try a Pensieve, but he always resisted. It was better not knowing. But things had changed since then, and he knew it was the same for her.
Thoughts that weren’t there before now surfaced. She blushed sometimes when he touched her, just the faintest pink tinge instead of her usual angry tomato red that was wholly unattractive. For two weeks after the incident, neither one of them made one suggestive innuendo until the entire thing was a faded memory—one they couldn’t remember of course.
He fixed his hair in the mirror and straightened his robes. They were friends. Sex was not involved.
“Are you two ready for some extreme carpet riding?”
Draco nodded, dragging Ginny behind him. “We’re ready.”
“I really don’t feel comfortable being up in the air without something between my legs,” Ginny whispered furiously.
“I can certainly help you out if you wish,” Draco said, pulling her towards him.
Ginny slapped his chest. “Now is not the right time.”
“Unless my parents are around, it is always the right time,” Draco said. He stepped onto the carpet, which was lying on the floor. “Come on, Weasley.”
“I think I could just take a day at the spa,” Ginny said. “Right?”
“Alright, enough,” Draco dragged her to him, holding her in a tight embrace. “You’re a Quidditch player. You can’t be afraid of a flying carpet.”
“I most certainly can,” Ginny said, struggling against him.
Draco groaned. “Keep doing that and this ride will get a lot more comfortable.”
She stilled. “Can’t keep control, Malfoy?”
“I can,” he said. He held her closer to him. “It’s more fun for you if I don’t.”
“For you too, I assure you,” Ginny said. She shoved him back. “Shall we get this done?”
“In public? I never took you for that type of girl, Weasley.” Draco took a seat on the carpet, and Ginny sat next to him. “We’re ready.”
“Alright,” the man said. “I’m Vil, your driver. Is this your first time on a carpet?”
“Yes,” Draco said.
“Alright, a few rules,” Vil said. He clapped his hands together. “Sit side by side on the carpet. You’ll want to keep the weight even. Don’t want anyone falling off.”
“Has that happened?” Ginny clenched Draco’s hand.
“We—“
“Perfectly safe,” Draco said. He turned to the man with cold eyes. “Correct?”
“The safest,” Vil said, clearing his throat. “But please keep all body parts on the carpet. We don’t want anyone—keep yourself on the carpet.”
“This is the worst idea,” Ginny said, squeezing Draco’s hand with an ever-tightening grip. “I’m going to end up splat on some building.”
“Off we go,” Vil said.
It was like flying on a broom with legs crossed. The wind rushed past him, whistling in his ears. Around him, the ground disappeared, and the sky and ocean became his only visual. His skin tingled with goose bumps, and his hand was numb from Ginny’s grip. Her body shivered against his own, and she moved closer to him.
“This is insane.” She looped an arm through his, closing her eyes tightly. “Incredibly insane and I’m not sure I’m enjoying it.”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Draco drawled. “There are a hundred thousand things to see from up here, and you’ll miss all of it.”
Ginny opened one eye and looked at him. “That sounds oddly familiar.”
The carpet dipped, and Ginny’s hand tightened around his bicep. Vil turned back and smiled at them before taking them into a twist through a mountain pass. It was on their way over a cul-de-sac in the Persian Gulf when the carpet began to tremble. The speed increased, and Vil seemed a little shaky in his steering. When the carpet began to stop and go, Draco felt Ginny’s nails digging into his skin.
“I think something’s wrong,” Ginny said.
“No, no. We’re fin—“ Vil was cut off by the further stuttering of the carpet. “I’m going to coast us down.”
Except coasting them down did not happen. As the carpet moved closer to the rock ledge overlooking the cul-de-sac, the three passengers were wrapped in a tangled heap of unmoving fabric. On instinct, Draco wrapped his arms around Ginny, his body twisting to hold her. Vil twisted out of the carpet, and it fell away from the three, floating down to the ground. Before he could remove his wand from his sleeve, searing pain shot through his body on all sides. Then it went quiet.
Draco came to consciousness, his body aching. His eyes felt as if they had been sealed shut, and he couldn’t move a single muscle. Images of falling flashed behind his lids, and a strangled sound escaped his throat. The noise caused a reaction of shuffling sounds around him, which made him aware of the fact that he was not alone.
“Ginny?”
“Thank Merlin. You crazy man.” He heard Ginny’s voice and tried to move. “Stop whatever you’re doing right now. I have some potions to give you. Don’t struggle.”
He felt soft fingers on his mouth, loosening his lips. “Ungh.”
“Shh,” Ginny cooed. “I’m going to have to massage your throat to get you to swallow.”
Liquid rushed past his lips, and he felt a warm hand on his throat, gently kneading. She murmured words of encouragement as potion after potion was poured into his mouth. The pain began to recede, and his head felt light. His entire body slipped into a state of near numbness, the pain a buzzing in the back of his mind. He opened his eyes to a vision of red.
“Sorry,” Ginny said, swiping her hair out of the way. She looked at him with wide brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not feeling anything now,” he whispered hoarsely. He looked around and saw familiar purple décor. “How did we get back?”
“Well, after you played hero, you and Vil were both unconscious. I tried to bring you back, but you kept slipping out because of the pain. So I shot red sparks into the air, and eventually a team of Aurors arrived to investigate.” Ginny put the last of the vials on the side table. “They helped me get you back here, and we called in a Healer.”
“Where is he?”
“She,” Ginny corrected. “She came, assessed you, and left me with the proper potions to administer when you woke up. Obviously you’re feeling better. Can I get you anything?”
“How did I get in these clothes?” he asked, looking down at his pajama-clothed body.
“I had to change you,” Ginny said, her cheeks pink tinged.
He chuckled, wincing at the pain that shot through his head. “Got a nice show, did you?”
“I didn’t realize that you liked to go without underpants,” Ginny said, hurriedly getting off the bed.
“I like the freedom every once in a while,” he said shrugging.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go to bed then. The Healer said you would feel tired after the potions. So goodnight.”
“Ginny?”
“Yes?” She paused in the doorway and looked back. “Do you need a drink or anything?”
Draco smirked. “Did I meet the challenge?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re fighting fit, Malfoy. Goodnight.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” he shouted after her.
“Which is why I said that,” came the delayed reply.
Draco chuckled, his eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep.
A few hours later, Draco awoke in confusion. The moon was still shining brightly outside his window, and he couldn’t figure out why he woke up. He shifted around in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, although it was in vain.
“I could use a dr—“
A moan interrupted his whisper, followed by a shouted “No!”
Upon hearing Ginny scream, he grabbed his wand from the nightstand and moved as quickly as he could into the hallway. He could still hear Ginny’s moans, but there was no one at her doorway. Peeking into the room, he saw that she was in bed, the sheets twisted around her. She kicked an errant pillow across the bed, and she moaned incoherent words in her sleep. His ultimate plan was to wake her up and relieve her from the nightmares. But a small part of him wanted to look away, to stop seeing this confident, fearless woman so frightened.
“Ginny,” Draco whispered, moving closer. “Ginny, wake up. You’re just dreaming.”
He reached out and touched her shoulder, gently nudging her. But instead of slowly waking up, she flew out of her sleep, a hand automatically reaching out to shove him away. He ended up sprawled on the floor, coughing as he felt remembered pain from falling onto the rock ledge.
“Draco! I’m so sorry,” Ginny said, scrambling out of the bed. “You scared me.”
“You were screaming and moaning in your sleep—and not the good kind,” Draco said, rubbing his chest. “You really are strong.”
“I play Quidditch for a living,” she said, helping him into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“Let’s recall our day, shall we?” He eased himself into a standing position. “I came to Dubai. We checked into the hotel. The two of us went on a carpet ride. Oh and did I mention I fell off the carpet?”
“This was your idea,” Ginny said. She straightened the sheets on her bed before climbing in. “Sit. You shouldn’t be standing so long after your fall.”
“Which one?” he joked.
“Sorry,” she said, patting his leg. “You’ll survive though.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m not the one who fell,” she said, slipping her legs under the covers.
“You did fall, but that was not what I was questioning.” He pointed to her sweat soaked shirt. “You were having nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”
“These were a little different,” she said quietly. “But I’m fine.”
“I’ll leave then,” Draco said, moving to get off the bed.
“Wait,” Ginny said, gripping his arm. She released him, sliding down under the covers and resting her head on the pillow. “I was in the Chamber, and Harry didn’t come. But you were there, and you were trying to save me. The Basilisk came and ki—he—I’m glad you’re okay.”
He propped his back against the headboard, his body parallel to hers. Looking down at her, he smiled. “I’m from the house of snakes, Ginny. It doesn’t matter how big and scary the snake looks, I’m not dying from a snake bite.”
“You probably have the same poison in your veins,” she said, her voice wavering.
“There’s a good chance,” he said. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “At least you didn’t dream of falling.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he opened his eyes to see her gazing up at him. Her brown eyes shimmered under the dim moonlight, and she placed a palm against his leg. He could feel her body heat through his pajama pants.
“You scared me today,” she whispered. She shook her head. “When I landed on you and rolled over, you weren’t responding and barely breathing. Not to mention the bruises everywhere across your body.”
“It’s over now,” Draco said.
“Draco, can I ask you a favor?” She looked down at her pillow, refusing eye contact. “I know that we have our boundaries, but can you stay here tonight? Or I can stay in your room and sleep on the sofa? I would even sleep on the floor. Just don’t leave me to those nightmares again, not the ones about —well, you know.”
“I’ll stay,” Draco said, his entire body tense.
“I can sleep on the floor or sofa,” Ginny offered.
“Quiet,” Draco said. He slipped under the covers, resting his head on one of the plush pillows. “Go to sleep.”
“Thank you,” Ginny said, moving closer to him. He could feel her breath on his ear. “I will never go on another magic carpet.”
“Yes, you like things between your legs,” he said quietly.
“You really don’t stay down for long,” Ginny said with a smile.
“I assure you that I stay up as long as you need me to,” Draco said with a suggestive twinkle in his eye. “After all, I am a gentleman and strongly believe ladies come first.”
“If you’re good enough, they will,” Ginny said, giggling. “We are a perverted pair.”
“It’s hard to think about anything but sex when your tits are on such lovely display for me,” Draco said, looking down at the camisole that clung to her breasts in a delectable manner. “They are rather distracting.”
“You and my breasts,” Ginny sighed.
“That could be a song,” Draco said.
Ginny shifted her body around before settling on her side, facing Draco. “Are you alright? Mentally, not physically.”
“You’re the one having nightmares,” Draco said. He turned his head to the side, looking into concerned brown eyes. “Yes, I will heal and be fine. For now, let’s try and get some rest before the sun comes up.”
“Goodnight, Draco.”
Draco looked down at the redhead, her eyes closing. He had an overwhelming urge to cradle her to him, to tell her that he would make sure nothing ever harmed her. It wasn’t a foreign feeling. He had felt it the previous night when Marcus attempted to have a conversation with her, and it had clawed at him many times before—especially considering the overzealous fans, who often sent her inappropriate letters and attempted to stalk her. Her vulnerability, which she rarely showed him, fueled a desire to constantly be around her and guarantee her safety. It wasn’t a foreign feeling of late, but it was a feeling he had never before experienced until Ginevra Weasley.
“Goodnight, Ginny.”
Author notes:
My greatest regret is that I didn't add more to the story in regards to their adventures (although it isn't over yet, one more chapter). But I was in a time constraint. I hope you enjoyed it regardless.
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