Chapter 6
The Kiss
She didn’t need to be told twice. The pained gasps that Draco emitted as two more bolts struck his bottom and shoulder convinced her that a retreat was required. The pair of students barreled through the hallway, back up the staircase, and into the great hall. They didn’t stop until they were back in the main castle and safely barricaded by a broom closet door.
“I’m sorry, Draco.” Ginny said as soon as she regained her breath. “I didn’t know they could do that.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, well being stung makes it easier to remember.” Almost reflexively, he lifted his arm and began to rub at the welt that had formed where the fairy bolt struck.
“Did it have a wand?” Ginny said, surprised. “I didn’t think that non-humans were allowed.”
“Yeah well- you want to go back and tell her she’s breaking the law?” Draco growled, but his tone was more petulant than angry. “They can’t do much but little stunners anyhow.” He shrugged. He was still rubbing his arm.
“Does it hurt much?” Ginny asked, frowning. The skin where the bolt had
struck had grown puffy and pink, and was faintly glazed with glitter.
Draco shrugged.
Ginny acted on the pure instinct of two and a half decades of tending the cuts and bruises of her hordes of cousins. “Awwww...let me kiss it and make it better.”
She did.
Ginny’s lips grazed his forearm as she exhaled softly, causing the fine
blonde hairs that grew there to stand on end.
Draco inhaled sharply, and the sound made Ginny suddenly conscious of what she had done.
“I…I-!” she began frantically, but Draco ignored her abortive attempts to retract what she had done. His eyes were like smoldering ashes as they met her own.
“Here.” He whispered, pointing at his shoulder.
“Here?” Ginny echoed, but she knew what he was asking. With blood pounding in her ears, she leaned closer and applied a second kiss.
He smelled of fir trees and smoke and rain. Ginny’s stomach made a funny flip.
“Here too.” Draco’s voice was as soft as an incantation, and just as effective in drawing her attention. She lifted amber eyes to his face. He was pointing at his lips.
“You didn’t get hit on the mouth!” She blurted stupidly, then flushed as the openness in Draco’s face was withdrawn, replaced with a more familiar sneer.
“Yeah, well, I actually got zapped on the bum, but this is the first date." He kept staring, melting her like butter under a flame. "Besides, I wouldn't want Crabbe and Goyle to get jealous and think that their job as chief arse-kissers was being threatened. A pouty minion is a bad minion."
He was smiling behind his smirk. She could see it, even if he didn’t want her to.
"Thank you for that terrifying mental image.” She replied as some of the tension leaked from her body.”
"Always happy to be of service," Draco retorted, tilting his head. His lashes lowered and he leaned much closer, whispering against her cheek. "Which brings me back to my original request..."
The seconds that his mouth drifted toward hers seemed to draw out for ages. When Draco’s lips finally reached their destination, Ginny was less aware of how they felt against her own, than how they made her feel inside. It was like riding a broom through a pocket of air, the dizzying, stomach-churning thrill of soaring and falling at once. Her senses were full of him: silver and cashmere and pinecones and gasping breath.
Draco’s tongue slicked across the seam between her lips, and they parted instantly, permitting him to deepen the kiss. His hands were on her back, sliding over the bulky knit of her hand-me-down jumper, and then they were under it, skin against skin.
“Gin,” Draco breathed as they parted for air, but he didn’t wait for her to look up or start to answer. His lips covered hers again, sucking away her breath as he applied another dizzying kiss.
This shouldn’t feel so right. Ginny had the haziest inkling of a thought as her arms curled around Draco’s narrow waist and she pushed her body against his own. He shouldn’t be so warm. I shouldn’t like it so much.. Ever since the “date” had been arranged, ever since their odd meeting in the Snake Pit- perhaps even earlier still, though Ginny wasn’t yet to admit it, she had been fascinated with the possibility of Draco Malfoy. In her mind, it had hung tantalizingly out of reach, like some forbidden treat- tempting because he was taboo. Ginny hadn’t really imagined that Draco would be desirable on his own rights. Yet here she was, twined in his arms, and even if no Malfoy had ever sneered at a Weasley, even if her father had never ordered a raid on his father’s manor, even if she hadn’t wanted so desperately to prove to the world at large that she was more than they expected, she wouldn’t have wanted to be any other place than Draco’s arms.
Ginny was breathless when they came apart again, taking air in great,
heaving gulps. She didn’t know if it was the lack of oxygen or something else that made her feel so dizzy. Draco seemed to feel it too.
“Merlin, Weaslette…” Draco breathed, running his hair through his normally perfect hair, throwing it into disarray. “ Merlin…”.
She reached for him again, even though a voice inside her head warned her to stop. She was starting something she didn’t know if she could control, but at that moment, it seemed worth the risk. She kicked a mop bucket out of the way to push him against the wall, and then flattened herself against him, feeling the swells and hollows of his shape pressed intimately against her own. She could feel the strain in his muscles, and the twisting, frightening need that it kindled in her body was like nothing Dean or Michael or Harry or any of the other boys
had ever been able to inspire.
Ginny slid her hands over Draco’s jumper-covered abdomen, and then she
tugged at the cloth, untucking his Oxford from his trousers so that she could push her hands inside. She brushed the backs of her fingers over the ridges of his ribs, and then she smoothed them over his chest, feeling the tiny buttons of his nipples, and the sleek planes where his muscles joined.
Draco’s hands had been settled lightly on her back, carefully still as she conducted her explorations, but now they began to move. They burrowed inside her jumper again, stroking over her back, and then dipping low to cup her arse. He bent forward to nip her neck, still holding her skirt taut.
She leaned into the touch.
Then the thread that had been holding up her skirt gave way.
The Kiss
She didn’t need to be told twice. The pained gasps that Draco emitted as two more bolts struck his bottom and shoulder convinced her that a retreat was required. The pair of students barreled through the hallway, back up the staircase, and into the great hall. They didn’t stop until they were back in the main castle and safely barricaded by a broom closet door.
“I’m sorry, Draco.” Ginny said as soon as she regained her breath. “I didn’t know they could do that.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, well being stung makes it easier to remember.” Almost reflexively, he lifted his arm and began to rub at the welt that had formed where the fairy bolt struck.
“Did it have a wand?” Ginny said, surprised. “I didn’t think that non-humans were allowed.”
“Yeah well- you want to go back and tell her she’s breaking the law?” Draco growled, but his tone was more petulant than angry. “They can’t do much but little stunners anyhow.” He shrugged. He was still rubbing his arm.
“Does it hurt much?” Ginny asked, frowning. The skin where the bolt had
struck had grown puffy and pink, and was faintly glazed with glitter.
Draco shrugged.
Ginny acted on the pure instinct of two and a half decades of tending the cuts and bruises of her hordes of cousins. “Awwww...let me kiss it and make it better.”
She did.
Ginny’s lips grazed his forearm as she exhaled softly, causing the fine
blonde hairs that grew there to stand on end.
Draco inhaled sharply, and the sound made Ginny suddenly conscious of what she had done.
“I…I-!” she began frantically, but Draco ignored her abortive attempts to retract what she had done. His eyes were like smoldering ashes as they met her own.
“Here.” He whispered, pointing at his shoulder.
“Here?” Ginny echoed, but she knew what he was asking. With blood pounding in her ears, she leaned closer and applied a second kiss.
He smelled of fir trees and smoke and rain. Ginny’s stomach made a funny flip.
“Here too.” Draco’s voice was as soft as an incantation, and just as effective in drawing her attention. She lifted amber eyes to his face. He was pointing at his lips.
“You didn’t get hit on the mouth!” She blurted stupidly, then flushed as the openness in Draco’s face was withdrawn, replaced with a more familiar sneer.
“Yeah, well, I actually got zapped on the bum, but this is the first date." He kept staring, melting her like butter under a flame. "Besides, I wouldn't want Crabbe and Goyle to get jealous and think that their job as chief arse-kissers was being threatened. A pouty minion is a bad minion."
He was smiling behind his smirk. She could see it, even if he didn’t want her to.
"Thank you for that terrifying mental image.” She replied as some of the tension leaked from her body.”
"Always happy to be of service," Draco retorted, tilting his head. His lashes lowered and he leaned much closer, whispering against her cheek. "Which brings me back to my original request..."
The seconds that his mouth drifted toward hers seemed to draw out for ages. When Draco’s lips finally reached their destination, Ginny was less aware of how they felt against her own, than how they made her feel inside. It was like riding a broom through a pocket of air, the dizzying, stomach-churning thrill of soaring and falling at once. Her senses were full of him: silver and cashmere and pinecones and gasping breath.
Draco’s tongue slicked across the seam between her lips, and they parted instantly, permitting him to deepen the kiss. His hands were on her back, sliding over the bulky knit of her hand-me-down jumper, and then they were under it, skin against skin.
“Gin,” Draco breathed as they parted for air, but he didn’t wait for her to look up or start to answer. His lips covered hers again, sucking away her breath as he applied another dizzying kiss.
This shouldn’t feel so right. Ginny had the haziest inkling of a thought as her arms curled around Draco’s narrow waist and she pushed her body against his own. He shouldn’t be so warm. I shouldn’t like it so much.. Ever since the “date” had been arranged, ever since their odd meeting in the Snake Pit- perhaps even earlier still, though Ginny wasn’t yet to admit it, she had been fascinated with the possibility of Draco Malfoy. In her mind, it had hung tantalizingly out of reach, like some forbidden treat- tempting because he was taboo. Ginny hadn’t really imagined that Draco would be desirable on his own rights. Yet here she was, twined in his arms, and even if no Malfoy had ever sneered at a Weasley, even if her father had never ordered a raid on his father’s manor, even if she hadn’t wanted so desperately to prove to the world at large that she was more than they expected, she wouldn’t have wanted to be any other place than Draco’s arms.
Ginny was breathless when they came apart again, taking air in great,
heaving gulps. She didn’t know if it was the lack of oxygen or something else that made her feel so dizzy. Draco seemed to feel it too.
“Merlin, Weaslette…” Draco breathed, running his hair through his normally perfect hair, throwing it into disarray. “ Merlin…”.
She reached for him again, even though a voice inside her head warned her to stop. She was starting something she didn’t know if she could control, but at that moment, it seemed worth the risk. She kicked a mop bucket out of the way to push him against the wall, and then flattened herself against him, feeling the swells and hollows of his shape pressed intimately against her own. She could feel the strain in his muscles, and the twisting, frightening need that it kindled in her body was like nothing Dean or Michael or Harry or any of the other boys
had ever been able to inspire.
Ginny slid her hands over Draco’s jumper-covered abdomen, and then she
tugged at the cloth, untucking his Oxford from his trousers so that she could push her hands inside. She brushed the backs of her fingers over the ridges of his ribs, and then she smoothed them over his chest, feeling the tiny buttons of his nipples, and the sleek planes where his muscles joined.
Draco’s hands had been settled lightly on her back, carefully still as she conducted her explorations, but now they began to move. They burrowed inside her jumper again, stroking over her back, and then dipping low to cup her arse. He bent forward to nip her neck, still holding her skirt taut.
She leaned into the touch.
Then the thread that had been holding up her skirt gave way.
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