“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall began, surveying him from across the headmistress’ desk. “I know that dating Ms. Weasley puts you in… a predicament. I’ve heard talk among other students about what should be done to you. Students in your house. Of course the war divided a great many of us, sadly, instead of bringing us together.”
McGonagall sighed and looked to Professor Slughorn for help. He jumped in.
“Mr. Malfoy, we feel it prudent and preemptive to give you your own dorm. This has been done a few times in the past, when the situation warrants. Unlike the Slytherin common room, you will set the password. And… and we are giving you great latitude here given the circumstances, but Miss Weasley will be able to come and go as she pleases. As long as you give her the current password.”
McGonagall jumped back in, a stern expression on her face. “The portrait will tell me if you bring or allow anyone other than Miss Weasley in. If you do, I will send you back to the Slytherin dorm to fend for yourself. I am trusting you with this. Ms. Granger herself stepped out and vouched for you. So don’t muck it up!”
Draco was mind blown. He should have figured Granger knew. She was dating Weasel King. Still, he didn’t like it. But she had vouched for him to have his own room? Granger, the girl he had tormented, who’d been tortured in front of him had spoken up on his behalf? It didn’t make sense.
But Draco sensed this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his future wife. What wouldn’t Granger do for her? The past few days the older girl had practically been glued to her, and in History of Magic, the one class Draco and Ginny actually talked, Ginny said Granger wanted to draw her up a study schedule for the N.E.W.T.s. But Ginny had said she preferred studying with Draco, which made his chest swell with pride.
“Yes, Professor McGonagall. Thank you very much,” he found himself saying.
And then Slughorn was showing him a portrait on the sixth floor, and when it asked for him to create a password, Draco said the first thing that came to mind.
“Ginevra.”
~~~
Of course the one time Draco actually wanted to find Ginny, he couldn’t. Any other time she was there, her presence like a calming draught, reminding him that he could get through school because he had a future to look forward to—”You’re going to be the best Unspeakable ever”—and of course there was the thought that they’d be escaping to their own little oasis. It’d be nice. He’d begun to think of her as his best friend. Maybe five year old him hadn’t been so dumb. If he had to spend the rest of his life with her, at least they got along so well. And it didn’t hurt that she was attractive.
Draco went up to the very last person he wanted to and delicately cleared his throat. Hermione Granger glanced up at him from her library book, the picture of surprise.
“I was… I’m looking for Ginny, and she isn’t here, she’s not in the Great Hall, I’ve checked the Quidditch Pitch, so I’m assuming she’s in your common room. Only I can’t get in and I need to talk to her. So if I could wait outside your common room for you to get her…”
Hermione’s mouth was agape. She was staring at Draco before she seemed to realize what she was doing, and then she promptly shut her mouth and sat up straight.
“Of course. Follow me,” she said, packing her books up.
They said nothing, walking all the way to the seventh floor in silence. It was rather awkward, truth be told. But Draco wanted to see Ginny, so he would do what he had to do.
“Give me just a minute to get her,” Hermione mumbled as she clambered into the portrait.
And it took about that long for Ginny to appear, jumping out with her hair wild as though she’d just recently woken up from a nap. She sauntered over to Draco, wearing a shirt that he was sure he’d seen on Potter before. Anger roared in his chest. Who did Potter think he was to have Draco’s future wife wearing his clothes?!
But then she smiled up at him and asked him what was going on.
“I need to show you something,” he said before grabbing her hand and almost dragging her down the stairs to the sixth floor.
“Draco, what the fuck? Where are we going?”
“My room!” he said excitedly.
“Did you hit your head? Your room is in the dungeons!” she yelled as he kept pulling her down the halls.
“Not anymore. Ginevra, the password is Ginevra.”
And the portrait swung up and Draco stepped aside to let Ginny in.
He loved it. It was light and airy. It was decked out in Slytherin (and Gryffindor) colors. It was, Draco imagined, similar to the Head Boy’s room. He had his own common room, with a desk, a shelf for books, a fireplace, and a couch. Then he had a door that led to his bedroom and bathroom. The bed wasn’t as small as the ones in Slytherin Common Room; it certainly was big.
Ginny looked around, her amber eyes round as she took in the hangings—both their houses represented—and the desk, the comfortable looking couch, the desk wide enough for both of them to fit at for studying, and she spotted the little cauldron in the corner, perfect for practicing brewing potions, as most N.E.W.T. students were expected to do.
“How the hell did you manage this?” she finally asked, turning to face him.
“I didn’t. Apparently Granger did.”
Ginny looked floored. “Hermione did this?! But… why?”
Draco shrugged. “Slytherins were talking about becoming violent towards me so the staff thought it best I be moved. And McGonagall thought you should be the only person allowed to come in. On Granger’s vouching for me.”
Ginny stood there, her hair practically crackling, her mouth open, and then she burst into laughter.
“I call the bed tonight. You can sleep on the couch,” she said smugly.
“Oi! Wifey!” Draco called after her retreating form. “We’re going to be sharing a bed anyway, might as well start now. And I don’t think that’s quite what McGonagall meant,” Draco called after her, his heart stuttering.
Draco Malfoy had never shared his bed with anyone. And he knew soon he would be sharing it with Ginny. This thought didn’t bother him. But it did make him nervous. Were they supposed to cuddle?
Ginny’s next remark was highly amusing, “You have a bigger bathtub! That’s it, I’m moving in. The bed is big enough for both of us, you’re right. I’ll be right back.”
And that was how Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley came to share their own room.
McGonagall sighed and looked to Professor Slughorn for help. He jumped in.
“Mr. Malfoy, we feel it prudent and preemptive to give you your own dorm. This has been done a few times in the past, when the situation warrants. Unlike the Slytherin common room, you will set the password. And… and we are giving you great latitude here given the circumstances, but Miss Weasley will be able to come and go as she pleases. As long as you give her the current password.”
McGonagall jumped back in, a stern expression on her face. “The portrait will tell me if you bring or allow anyone other than Miss Weasley in. If you do, I will send you back to the Slytherin dorm to fend for yourself. I am trusting you with this. Ms. Granger herself stepped out and vouched for you. So don’t muck it up!”
Draco was mind blown. He should have figured Granger knew. She was dating Weasel King. Still, he didn’t like it. But she had vouched for him to have his own room? Granger, the girl he had tormented, who’d been tortured in front of him had spoken up on his behalf? It didn’t make sense.
But Draco sensed this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his future wife. What wouldn’t Granger do for her? The past few days the older girl had practically been glued to her, and in History of Magic, the one class Draco and Ginny actually talked, Ginny said Granger wanted to draw her up a study schedule for the N.E.W.T.s. But Ginny had said she preferred studying with Draco, which made his chest swell with pride.
“Yes, Professor McGonagall. Thank you very much,” he found himself saying.
And then Slughorn was showing him a portrait on the sixth floor, and when it asked for him to create a password, Draco said the first thing that came to mind.
“Ginevra.”
~~~
Of course the one time Draco actually wanted to find Ginny, he couldn’t. Any other time she was there, her presence like a calming draught, reminding him that he could get through school because he had a future to look forward to—”You’re going to be the best Unspeakable ever”—and of course there was the thought that they’d be escaping to their own little oasis. It’d be nice. He’d begun to think of her as his best friend. Maybe five year old him hadn’t been so dumb. If he had to spend the rest of his life with her, at least they got along so well. And it didn’t hurt that she was attractive.
Draco went up to the very last person he wanted to and delicately cleared his throat. Hermione Granger glanced up at him from her library book, the picture of surprise.
“I was… I’m looking for Ginny, and she isn’t here, she’s not in the Great Hall, I’ve checked the Quidditch Pitch, so I’m assuming she’s in your common room. Only I can’t get in and I need to talk to her. So if I could wait outside your common room for you to get her…”
Hermione’s mouth was agape. She was staring at Draco before she seemed to realize what she was doing, and then she promptly shut her mouth and sat up straight.
“Of course. Follow me,” she said, packing her books up.
They said nothing, walking all the way to the seventh floor in silence. It was rather awkward, truth be told. But Draco wanted to see Ginny, so he would do what he had to do.
“Give me just a minute to get her,” Hermione mumbled as she clambered into the portrait.
And it took about that long for Ginny to appear, jumping out with her hair wild as though she’d just recently woken up from a nap. She sauntered over to Draco, wearing a shirt that he was sure he’d seen on Potter before. Anger roared in his chest. Who did Potter think he was to have Draco’s future wife wearing his clothes?!
But then she smiled up at him and asked him what was going on.
“I need to show you something,” he said before grabbing her hand and almost dragging her down the stairs to the sixth floor.
“Draco, what the fuck? Where are we going?”
“My room!” he said excitedly.
“Did you hit your head? Your room is in the dungeons!” she yelled as he kept pulling her down the halls.
“Not anymore. Ginevra, the password is Ginevra.”
And the portrait swung up and Draco stepped aside to let Ginny in.
He loved it. It was light and airy. It was decked out in Slytherin (and Gryffindor) colors. It was, Draco imagined, similar to the Head Boy’s room. He had his own common room, with a desk, a shelf for books, a fireplace, and a couch. Then he had a door that led to his bedroom and bathroom. The bed wasn’t as small as the ones in Slytherin Common Room; it certainly was big.
Ginny looked around, her amber eyes round as she took in the hangings—both their houses represented—and the desk, the comfortable looking couch, the desk wide enough for both of them to fit at for studying, and she spotted the little cauldron in the corner, perfect for practicing brewing potions, as most N.E.W.T. students were expected to do.
“How the hell did you manage this?” she finally asked, turning to face him.
“I didn’t. Apparently Granger did.”
Ginny looked floored. “Hermione did this?! But… why?”
Draco shrugged. “Slytherins were talking about becoming violent towards me so the staff thought it best I be moved. And McGonagall thought you should be the only person allowed to come in. On Granger’s vouching for me.”
Ginny stood there, her hair practically crackling, her mouth open, and then she burst into laughter.
“I call the bed tonight. You can sleep on the couch,” she said smugly.
“Oi! Wifey!” Draco called after her retreating form. “We’re going to be sharing a bed anyway, might as well start now. And I don’t think that’s quite what McGonagall meant,” Draco called after her, his heart stuttering.
Draco Malfoy had never shared his bed with anyone. And he knew soon he would be sharing it with Ginny. This thought didn’t bother him. But it did make him nervous. Were they supposed to cuddle?
Ginny’s next remark was highly amusing, “You have a bigger bathtub! That’s it, I’m moving in. The bed is big enough for both of us, you’re right. I’ll be right back.”
And that was how Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley came to share their own room.
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