Ginny ran as fast as she could down to the courtyard, her bag hitting her side painfully which each step. She was just hoping she wasn’t too late for her tutor to still be there waiting. Stupid, selfish roommate for turning off her alarm clock — admittedly, it was set ridiculously early, but that was still a cruel move. Why did he want to meet before classes on a Monday anyway?
She had been struggling with potions lately, which wasn’t good for any student, much less one in their OWLs year. She wasn’t happy to be stuck with Draco Malfoy as a tutor however, as he constantly mocked her ongoing flirtation with Harry Potter, the boy she had been obsessing over since she had been old enough to say his name properly.
It was hardly her fault that he was the definition of perfect, or that he finally saw her the way she wanted him to see her. She’d always been bold and vivacious, but that boy had a way of turning her into useless mush.
She’d always thought that that’s how you were supposed to feel when you loved someone. But she found that she didn’t really like feeling helpless. She always wanted to feel like herself.
She made it to the courtyard a whole fifteen minutes late. He was still waiting for her fortunately, sitting on their usual bench, reading a potions textbook. Draco’s blond hair wasn’t slicked neatly back as it had always been in the years before. His pale hands were now always shaking apposed to the steady, stoic demeanor she had always associated him with. The sight of him turned her veins to fire, courage and confidence rushing through her like a wave.
That was a new feeling.
She cleared her throat, an apologetic look on her face as he looked up. Those silver eyes momentarily stunned her, but she quickly regained her senses. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my roommate turned off my alarm clock—”
“What’s wrong with your hair?” He cut her off, outwardly confused by her appearance. Ginny’s hand immediately shot up towards the messy bun she had hastily thrown on top of her head, a contrast to the usually impeccably straight hair she never left her room without donning. She didn’t have much to improve the way she looked, but she always wanted to give off the best, put together impression that she could manage.
“I told you,” She said through gritted teeth, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “my roommate turned off my alarm clock and I didn’t want to be late for our session.”
“Hey,” Draco said, holding his hands up in surrender as his mouth simultaneously worked its way into a smirk. “I didn’t mean to offend you, it was merely an observation. Your hair looks nice and fiery red all the time.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow. His hair was falling in a curtain above his eyes, which were lighter than she was used to seeing them when she snuck quick glances at him in the Great Hall. His face also had a nice flush to it, even if he did still have the bags under his eyes that made her more concerned for his health than she should be.
“Why are you being so kind to me?” She asked, skeptical.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Have I ever been unkind to you?”
She thought about it. He was always polite and courteous — even patient when she took longer than normal on a problem. He’d just never been so… personal around her before. He had given her a compliment and he had certainly never done that before.
“I suppose you haven’t, but that’s what baffles me the most.” She told him truthfully. He smiled, but his eyes beckoned for more of an explanation. “You complimented me, when you hate my family and I’m supposed to hate yours. Why are you not vile to me, I am a Weasley—”
He cut her off for the second time, the prick, but instead of opening his mouth, this time he took her speech away by striding over to her, and placing it on hers.
Her senses went into overdrive. She’d never felt more powerful or free. His hands were cold as they slid around her waist, but his lips were warm on hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. This was what kissing was supposed to feel like. You’re supposed to feel like you’re flying as apposed to feeling like you’re going to melt into an ordinary puddle for other people to step on. She could’ve stayed like this forever, she was—
She was kissing Draco Malfoy.
She broke away from him as suddenly as she had had latched herself onto him. She couldn’t get involved with Draco Malfoy, no matter how good of a kisser he was.
“Idon'tknowwhattosay.” She stammered quickly, wringing her hands in an attempt to not look into his eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Draco said. She looked up to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, but his eyes reminded her of a wounded puppy. “I understand.”
“You do?” She asked astonished.
“You still like him don’t you?” He told her. Her face remained blank, not understanding what he was getting at. “Potter has a knack for snagging things that I want, this wouldn’t be the first time.”
Oh… “Harry!” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I completely forgot about Harry!”
“Well in that case…” His face was red. “I was hoping you’d be interested in me, Ginevra.” He reached out with his right hand and intertwined his fingers with hers on her left hand. She never knew how lovely that wretched name could sound until it came off his tongue.
“Harry’s not the problem with us,” Ginny said to him, brushing the Death Eater tattoo on his arm lightly with the palm of her right hand. “I wish he was the only thing keeping us apart.”
His eyes darkened slightly, gripping her hand tighter. His left hand gently grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “That doesn’t have to be a problem either.” She looked at him with confusion. He gave her a light kiss on her nose before continuing. “I could be secretly siding with the order, through you. They wanted me as your tutor to get information, but I could easily flip that on its head.”
He would be willing to go against He Who Must Not Be Named… for her. “But what if it puts you in danger? What if you’re killed?”
He surprised her by chuckling, an even bigger smirk than usual playing on his lips. “It’ll be worth it to see the look on Potter’s face when you tell him that my kissing wiped him from your brain.”
She laughed out loud, covering her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.
He beamed. “So what do you say?”
She didn’t say anything. She just yanked him by the collar, craving the feel of his lips against hers again.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: you see Severus Snape, this is how you do it ;)
Draco reached her first. Cursing under his breath, he knelt and scooped her up into his arms. He prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t splinch them both as he apparated them back to the safe house.
He’d never made it any secret to anyone who’d listen just how much the youngest Weasley annoyed him. Including her. But, he didn’t hate her, and he’d even admit (to himself at least) that his annoyance had merged into something else as they’d gotten older. So, he was reasonably upset and worried about the state of her head wound.
The Medi-witches fixed her up soon enough and left them there in the hallway of the safehouse, her hand in his as they moved around the cots. There were just so many other witches and wizards who were injured.
She woke up, blinking against the light and turned to look into his eyes. “Hello,” she said, blinking more and looking a little too much like Lovegood for his comfort.
“What’s your full name?” he asked, holding up his hand, three fingers extended. “How many fingers?”
“Ginerva Molly Weasley,” she answered. “And three fingers, you git.”
Draco smirked and lowered his hand, trying to pull the other one from hers, but she was holding it rather tightly. He frowned. Something was wrong.
“Do you know who I am, Weasley?”
“Of course I do. Draco…” she said expectantly, but when his countenance didn’t shift, she continued. “You’re Draco Lucius Malfoy. You should be in your seventh year of Hogwarts, but for the war, and your favorite Bertie Botts bean flavor is chocolate, but you tell everyone it’s pear. I assume because it’s green.”
It was his turn to pull a Luna and blink astoundedly at Ginny. “How did you know that?”
She shrugged. “I dunno, it’s pretty obvious. You save the chocolate beans for later. So you can enjoy them alone.”
“No, I mean…what are you doing watching me eat candy?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I’m a git. A louse. A right prat most of the time. You wouldn’t give me the time of day, let alone your attention…”
“That’s not true, Draco. I know you had your moments, but we’re alright now, aren’t we?”
He frowned and raised his hand for the medi-witch. Because Ginny Weasley NOT biting his head off was very alarming. To say the very least.
Title:Time For Plan B Pairing: Draco/Ginny (Harry Potter) Rating:PG-13 Length:70,000 (complete) Summary: Life doesn’t always go according to plan, so sometimes you need contingencies. But what if your backup to your backup plan fails? What can you do? Mix in hexes, rumours, a reverse-Oedipus complex, something about a pig, and set it all in the year 1975, and you are bound to have issues—serious, psychologically-scarring issues. Oh, and did I mention Draco and Ginny were in the middle of all this? Yeah. Fun times.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
The harsh blaring from the alarm sounded in her ears like drill—a persistent, beeping drill. She reached out with her hand and began to smack at the alarm, hitting it with her palm, as her face remained buried in the soft feather-down pillow. Apparently she wasn’t striking the right button for the stupid machine was still blasting away, antagonising her like a relentless harpy.
She muttered a few colourful expletives into the pillow and absently felt around her bed, searching for her wand. Her fingertips felt wood and she grasped the wand tightly in her hand. Flipping over onto her back, she aimed her wand at what she hoped was the alarm clock.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Merlin’s left nut!” she cursed groggily and turned over onto her side.
Eyes closed, she reached around, picked up the damnable beeping object, pulled its cord out of the socket, and pitched it across the room.
Ginny Weasley let out a relieved sigh and smiled lazily to herself as she rolled over onto her stomach. She wrapped both arms around the fluffy pillow and held it close, snuggling her face into the clean linen.
She had to admit that she really hated Muggle appliances. She didn’t see how Hermione could tolerate a machine that blasted away in your ear with incessant squawking, at least one that couldn’t easily be silenced with a wand. It was unnatural. Sure, she had most likely botched the spell with her mumbling, and she probably didn’t even direct her wand at the alarm itself, but still—she stood by her original position: Muggle appliances were frustrating.
After an hour of blissful, uninterrupted sleep, Ginny finally rose from bed with a yawn and stretched her stiff limbs. She ambled her way out the door, smacking her lips distastefully as she went. Her teeth were in a desperate need of cleaning.
Letting out another loud yawn, Ginny rubbed at her tired eyes with the edge of her palms and teetered down the unfamiliar hallway in search of a bathroom. Fortunately, she located one but had to go back to her room to retrieve her toothbrush. After a good scrub of her teeth and attending to other toiletries, Ginny made her way into the kitchen to be greeted by an already dressed and smiling Hermione. The redhead looked down at her own blue pyjamas covered in small, yellow ducks and frowned.
“Hey, Ginny. Did you have a good sleep?” Hermione asked cheerily, pulling out the chair beside her and patting the seat with a smile.
Ugh, a morning person.
Ginny sleepily nodded her head and sat down. A small, goofy grin began to spread across her face when she saw that her friend had made her Scottish pancakes covered in butter and syrup. Beside the plate stacked with heavenly pastries were a large glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of hot tea. Hermione must have used a Heating Charm to keep Ginny’s tea and pancakes warm. The redhead’s lopsided grin morphed into a beaming smile.
“I love you, Hermione,” she cooed affectionately before digging in.
Summary: In a dwindling postwar society, pureblood prisoners are being released into the care of Death Eaters for “rehabilitation.” And because life is quite unfair, Draco Malfoy has been entrusted with one very angry, very vengeful Ginny Weasley. [AU of a Voldemort victory]
“So, what are we going to do in the meantime? It’ll be several months until the wedding, yeah?” Draco asked, realizing that it wouldn’t make sense for Ginny to travel back and forth between America and Britain while she was upholding her Maid of Honor duties. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay in his family’s small cottage for months on end, sleeping on the couch. The manor was going to have to be dealt with eventually, whether he wanted to deal with it or not. At this point, he was going to have to come to terms with the fact that his mother wasn’t going to be leaving Havenwick any time soon.
“Would you consider…staying here?” he asked, cautiously, before continuing. “They won’t know to look for you here. So it should be safe.” A couple of years ago, he never would have believed that he’d willingly have a conversation with the youngest Weasley, let alone offer to let her stay in his childhood home, but times had certainly changed. He’d managed to return to Hogwarts after the war and graduate, but barely, and the experience had been anything but a pleasant one. His father, unsurprisingly, had been sent to Azkaban for his crimes in the war and his mother’s letters got more and more incoherent by the day. She’d managed to get off, but barely, and couldn’t live with the shame that came along with it.
Most of the 7th years who returned to school had been given exams for their classes, and were allowed to skip over the ones that they passed. Draco had passed the majority of his, but needed to stay to finish charms and, somewhat ironically, defense against the dark arts. Most of his housemates from his year had refused to return, some because of their families being imprisoned and some because of the shame. Because he only had two classes, he had plenty of free time, and very few people to spend it with. He often spent hours in the library or flying around the quidditch court. It hadn’t been until he had gone home for Christmas that he had seen how badly his mother’s addiction had gotten, and he spent his entire holiday going back and forth from the estate to Azkaban to discuss arrangements with his father. By the time he had returned to school, he had fallen behind in his two classes. The rest of the year was a blur of catching up on schoolwork and wandering the halls with Astoria Greengrass. Daphne had passed all her exams, of course, she had always been a stellar student. Astoria liked being able to say that she was hanging out with a handsome older guy, and she liked Draco well enough, their families were old friends and he had always been close with her sister, but her personal interest in him was mostly confined to their proximity and they stopped keeping in touch shortly after he graduated.
After leaving Hogwarts, it was pretty lonely. He hung around with Blaise and Theo for a while, but people hated seeing them in public. People would hide their children from them, or cross the street to avoid walking near them. Theo dealt with it by drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and Blaise dealt with it by throwing himself into his studies, which left him in an uncomfortable spot. Drinking with Theo was fun, at first, but being Theo’s full time caretaker when he tried to awkwardly hit on any girl that breathed near him or start fights was not, so he started to distance himself. His 18th birthday passed, quietly, with little fanfare. Shortly afterwards, he received the news of the estate becoming his responsibility and set forth avoiding it by any means necessary. At this point, any company, Weasley or not, was welcome.
America hadn’t been a lively time for Ginny, either. She spent most days working, before searching tirelessly in libraries for this mysterious woman to no avail. Occasionally, she sent letters to Luna and only Luna, but there were short and she was certain to make them untraceable in order to protect her. Only a year had gone by since she’d left England, but it felt so much longer. She found herself surprised that she was actually considering his offer of staying in the Malfoy Manor, with Draco himself. Going home didn’t really seem like an option, not one that she wanted to deal with in any case. Ginny honestly couldn’t think of something she dreaded more, outside of her loved ones being hurt of course, than listening to her mother question her about why her relationship with the beloved Harry Potter fell apart. Her mother was a loving and kind woman, but known to be overbearing and blind in her love for Harry. None of her brother’s lived in the Burrow anymore and being there just reminded her of Fred.
“Fine, but it’s just convenience. I’ll be leaving after the wedding is over.” she replied, reluctantly.
“I would expect nothing less.” he confirmed, but he couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Having company around while he began to manage the disaster of his family’s affairs was comforting, even under the unusual and somewhat dangerous circumstances.
He showed her through the manor, leading her through the living area and into the kitchen, which she noticed looked untouched. She wondered how often any of the Malfoys did their own cooking, especially without the help of House Elves. Living on her own in America, Ginny had grown fond of cooking, although she hadn’t mastered cooking small portions. There was always enough food for at least 3 people, and it made her miss the crazy life at the burrow. The manor felt cold and empty by comparison and she almost felt bad for Draco walking through it.
Eventually, he led her to a bedroom secluded from the rest of the house. It had a bathroom attached to it, a large bed, a dresser, and a closet. The room was plain, the bed had grey sheets and a comforter, but there were otherwise no decorations. She knew she’d have to go back to her and Harry’s flat to get more clothes at some point, but she wanted to put that off as long as possible. Draco explained to Ginny that it was a guest suite, intended for family members staying for extended periods of time, although he couldn’t remember a time when anyone used it, so she was free to stay there until the wedding was over. Awkwardly, they both said goodnight and retired to their rooms, unsure of how they were going to survive the next few months.
Audrey Hepburn’s famous Givenchy dress from Sabrina. This gown was the inspiration for Luna’s ballgown in the Scandalmongers - only the embroidered flowers are black roses for Luna’s gown, which “wink” causing the dress to glimmer without the aid of sequins or beads.
Luna giggled. She studied her own appearance in the mirror, choosing a more modern look, rooted in the 1950s – a fitted white bodice with hand-embroidered black roses around
the waistline and trailing to the growing mound of black roses along the
hem of her sheath skirt and matching the flurry of roses on her fluffy,
full half-skirt attached to the back on her dress, creating the
illusion of a fluffy, flowing train made of roses. Each small rose
winked like an eye, blinking quickly and all out of sync, so that the
gown appeared to glimmer without any the aid of sequins or crystals or
beadwork. It was unsettling and entirely Luna.
These drabbles were written pre-Deathly Hallows, so they are AU after Half-Blood Prince. Also, they were written in response to an old LJ challenge: had to be centred around the Forbidden Forest and each drabble could be no more than 100 words a piece.
Warning! There is a very naughty drabble in this series.
The first time he had met her at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he had nearly turned away, convinced that the situation was a trap. He scoffed at her defiant attitude, but now … she was the best Legilimens in Order ranks after Snape, and a more than adequate soldier.
Still, he would never let her see his reluctant admiration, and when he spotted her at last, he admonished, “You’re late, Ginevra.”
She jerked away and frowned at him, “I came as soon as I could, Malfoy.”
“The Dark Lord does not like to be kept waiting.”
The first time she had met him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, she’d been sick with nerves, and summoned all her skill as an Occlumens to hide that fact.
He’d been skeptical, but so had she - so had they all. Thus, she launched into a torrent of words, trying to break his calm demeanour and bolster her own sense of security.
After a while, she let go of her distrust and noted his resolution – she didn’t care about his motivations. Still, she would never let him see her reluctant admiration.
The First Kiss
Three months into their weekly assignations he kissed her. This time he was late. Instead of the expected scolding, he met sad eyes, which she did not attempt to conceal.
“What happened?” he bit out and did not really want an answer.
“Percy was injured.”
He noticed her injuries then – scratches on her face, a bruise on her temple, stiffness when she moved. He reached out and traced his wand along the marks, murmuring a charm. She watched him with curious eyes, and when he finished, he kissed her.
“So what do you have for me?” she asked, breathlessly.