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And you know you're
gonna lie to you.
And in your own way.
Tori Amos, "Siren"
"You don't have much of a choice, you know," Hermione said, easing herself into a chair. "I don't think you have any other option."
Ginny tried to look at her sister-in-law with something other than annoyance. Hermione had gotten even more irritated and repetitive as her pregnancy progressed; Ron liked to think that it meant she was having twins.
"You shouldn't be telling me this," Ginny murmured, looking into her teacup.
"I'm an Auror that is currently on maternity leave. I'm off the record right now. So you might as well use the information. Why not? We do."
Ginny closed her eyes and wished she could just explain the situation fully to Hermione. But it was silly, and she was going to be laughed at and called stupid by her entire family before the week was out. "All right. I'll ring him."
The agreement took the wind out of Hermione's argument, and she began to launch into a lengthy list of baby things she had amassed. If she did have twins, Hermione was ready. She was armed with an entire library full of books about pregnancy, infancy and parenting. It was enough to drive poor Ron mad.
When the visit was over, Ginny held the small business card with a measure of trepidation. She didn't know what she was getting herself into. It couldn't possibly be worth this kind of humiliation was it? What Weasley had ever needed a thief?
Apparently, she was the first.
And anyway, Oliver had stolen her design first. So it really was only fair if she got it back. Even if she did have to deal with Draco Malfoy.
Gathering her courage, Ginny dialed the number on the card.
Draco Malfoy had been expecting Ginny's call. He knew all about Ginny Weasley's feud with Oliver Wood at Broome and Handles Design. Both were the best racing broom designers in the business, and it was well known that Ginny tended to have a more popular racing design. Hers were sleeker, lighter and more slender. Her brooms were bought up by women in record numbers. Oliver tended to have a heavier design and was more favored by the old school racers or Eastern Europeans. When Jeremy Handles decided to retire, that opened up one of the top design positions in the company. Both Oliver and Ginny were in the running for the position, and rumor had it that Eleazar Broome couldn't decide between them. Instead, he had started a design contest between his top employees for the spot.
And now Oliver had stolen Ginny's design, the Siren.
In the years after the war's end, Draco had enjoyed a solitary life. He didn't want anyone nosing into his business, and initially he was too busy to care about anyone else's. He had the Manor to repair, his mother to take care of, the responsibility of the family finances and trying to figure out where half of his family's antiques had gone. When he had realized that the Ministry had seized some of his assets in his absence, Draco had seethed. No amount of begging would get his heritage back; they were trophies of war.
So he had stolen them. Every last piece.
He discovered that he was rather good at thievery. Only Hermione Granger had ever managed to trace his thefts, and she sympathized with his cause. They worked out a bargain, which nominally made him an employee of the new Ministry of Magic. He was officially an antiquities expert, but was their expert "procurer." She turned a blind eye to some of his antics, and he took care never to go too far.
Wood's cousin had been one of those with a Malfoy trophy, so he was more than happy to help Ginny with her problem. Draco found himself actually smiling when he heard whose home he would have to break into. He was outright grinning when he heard the outrage in her voice and the fact that she was willing to help him actually do the deed.
Oh yes, this was going to be interesting.
"The society pages say that Wood's parents are giving a lavish anniversary party," Draco said, stirring his coffee. He had invited Ginny to a sidewalk café in Muggle London, knowing full well that no one they knew would ever think to find them there. He placed his spoon into the cup's saucer, then looked up at Ginny. She had grown into an absolutely stunning woman, and he was almost disappointed that this meeting was only business. "It's going to be the perfect opportunity to get the designs back."
"You're absolutely mad," Ginny breathed, eyes wide. "You can't possibly... Oh, wait. Never mind. Look who I'm talking to!" She threw up her hands in dismay. "You won't listen to me anyway. I don't know why I bother."
Draco merely smiled in the face of her shock. "Oh, come now, Miss Weasley. Don't you wonder how I never get caught?"
"You bribe your way out of it, I suppose," Ginny replied. She settled back into her seat demurely, but she still looked unsettled.
Draco was able to curb the impulse to laugh, but only just. "Waste of money, that. I'm able to get in and out of places because I'm never what they expect. And I do have the good sense not to get caught in the first place."
"You can't be that good."
He leaned forward slightly, and his lips quirked into a smile when he saw Ginny lean back slightly as he did so. "Miss Weasley, you have no idea how good I can be."
She swallowed almost painfully in response to his voice. Dammit, if only her body would stop reacting to him. She had to stay focused. "I said I was willing to help you with whatever you needed, but that's just... You can't possibly think you're going to get away with it. Wood's house has excellent security."
"This is why I need you to give me an entrée into the house. The best time would be during that blasted anniversary party. There are enough people around that he would never be able to accuse you openly of stealing it. Those other people would give us cover and would also occupy his time. There are plenty of parties where things go missing." Draco's smile was almost lethal. "Do reconsider, Miss Weasley."
She was pale and almost trembling. "We'd have to go in together."
"Yes. That's a vital part to the plan."
"As in, you're my date."
"Exactly." Draco's grin was mischievous. "I have to say, I'm not entirely opposed."
Her eyes flashed fire. "Don't you dare try anything."
His upper lip quirked into a smirk of a smile. "Not until you ask me to, Miss Weasley."
Ginny's breath caught, and she looked down at her coffee cup to mask her discomfort. "Ginny," she said softly. "If you're going to be my date for that party, you should at least call me by my first name."
"Well, then, Ginny, I think it's only fair if you call me by my name as well."
When she looked up, their eyes locked. She suppressed a shiver and tried to smile. "Draco."
He leaned back in his chair and lazily took a sip of his coffee. "I think I'm going to enjoy this particular exercise."
Cheeks pink, Ginny gulped down her coffee. She didn't want the subtle innuendo or the reminders that she was about to do something illegal. True, Oliver had already done that sort of thing, and she had skated past legalities during the war. But she was older and wiser now, and she didn't intend to make a habit of this. But Oliver better get what's coming to him! she thought privately.
"We've never discussed price," Ginny said, looking up from her coffee cup. "How much do you charge for your skills?"
An elegant eyebrow lifted, but Ginny refused to back down from Draco's stare. "How much is your design worth?"
"Why?"
"I usually charge a percentage of the total value."
"The design should net me a senior partnership," Ginny responded. "It's part of a package deal, so I don't know what it's worth yet."
"Then we'll have to negotiate once we get the design. But I'll settle for five percent of your yearly wage."
"What?!"
"That seems reasonable. I usually charge twenty percent."
Ginny's jaws clamped shut with an audible click. She wanted to hex the bastard into the next millennium, just to get the smug smile off of his face. But she wanted to get her broom design back, and this was the only way. Oliver definitely needed a taste of his own medicine. He was too full of himself at work, and was constantly making comments to Ginny about her current designs on the drafting table at work. She wanted to wipe the smile off of his thieving face. Yes, that was the only reason she was going to go along with this silly plan. It seemed to make perfect sense, and Ginny certainly didn't know anything about burglary. She needed help to steal back the Siren design, and that meant dealing with Draco Malfoy.
The next day, Ginny returned home from work and found Draco Malfoy sitting at her kitchen table reading one of her books. She stopped short, a bag of groceries in hand. "What are you doing here?" she screeched, nearly dropping her groceries.
"I thought of calling you at work, but thought you might not appreciate that," he replied easily, looking up from her book. "Oh. You've shopped. I thought of taking you to dinner. If we're seen together before the party on Saturday..."
"You have some cheek, coming here like this. Absolutely not!" Ginny dropped her groceries on her kitchen counter. A horrid thought came to mind. "Did you take anything?"
"Is there anything worth taking?" Draco replied, openly smirking.
"Get out! I'll think of some other way to get my design back!"
He gracefully stood up and came to stand in front of Ginny. Her breath caught as he nearly pinned her to her own counter. "Can you really?" he asked, voice low and sensual. "Would it work? Because I can get your design back. I can guarantee that."
"Get away from me, Malfoy," Ginny hissed, just barely keeping herself from pushing him forcibly away from her. "I'll deal with you later."
He openly grinned at her. "I'll be at home, then. I'll count the minutes."
An hour after he Apparated to his home, she followed him. Her face was an awful shade of puce, every freckle seeming to blend together. She looked ready to hex him, and it took a concerted effort not to back down. Draco still remembered her hexes from Hogwarts, and her temper was legendary. He kept his social smile on his face, which only served to infuriate her more.
"You arrogant bastard! Where is it?! Where did you put it?!" She sounded like a shrewish fishwife, but Draco knew better than to say so.
"Put what?" he asked innocently. "I've been here all this time."
Ginny slapped him across the face, unable to keep her rage down. "Where is my mother's locket, you sodding bastard? It was my grandmother's!"
He had heard about her family during the war, of course. Bellatrix Lestrange had taken considerable delight in torturing her grandparents to death, trying to force the Weasley family out of hiding. Molly Weasley had taken the risk of discovery to arrange for their funerals; she herself was caught several months later. Draco didn't know any details, but knew that Molly Weasley was later found in pieces. He had heard how devastating her death was to the family, that many of them had nearly gone insane with grief. Ron had managed to track Bellatrix down. The details of their encounter were fuzzy, but he walked away to marry Hermione Granger, and Bellatrix was later found dead.
Draco had known that the piece carried tremendous emotional weight. That was why he took it.
He gently touched her face with his left hand. He took a small box out of his pocket. "I know, Ginny. But I had to prove how good I can be."
She stared at the box in his right hand with open hostility. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't just hex you right now?"
"Open this," he said instead. He was preternaturally calm in appearance, but anxious about her reaction. "It's not a trick."
Hesitantly, Ginny opened the box. Inside it lay her mother's silver locket on its heavy silver chain. The necklace had been tarnished in the secret compartment of her jewelry box; she had been unable to bear looking at it. Now the piece was polished and gleaming, looking exactly as it had on her mother's corpse when she found it.
Ginny raised her hand to her mouth as she openly sobbed. She raised her eyes to Draco's as he took it from the box. "Here, you should put this on." She shook her head vehemently, but he moved around her and clasped the chain around her neck. She shivered at the feel of his hands on her collarbone, the gentle press against the base of her neck. His breath ghosted over her skin, and he moved back into view. "Something like this should be worn, not put away."
"You know what happened, don't you?"
Her tone was vaguely accusatory, but he ignored that. "I'd heard, but that's not the same thing as knowing, really. It's where you put this necklace that interested me. You hid it away. That's how I knew it was important to you. I didn't know whose it was until just now."
"I wouldn't have known if you hadn't still been in my kitchen," Ginny whispered.
"I know." Draco touched her face again, gently. He surprised himself with his behavior; usually he avoided temperamental females. He found her intriguing, and suddenly he didn't find himself bored to tears in his own home. She crackled with life, and it was something he had never really been able to learn how to do. "I'm sorry."
"That's why you said you could guarantee it," she murmured, taking in great gulps of air. Her chest hurt from the force of emotions that slammed into her at the sight of her mother's necklace. "You really do know what you're doing."
Draco nodded. "This really is the best way, you know. I'll make it work."
She angrily wiped at her eyes and backed up a step. She was already regretting falling apart in front of him. She managed to pull herself together at work every day, but somehow she found it hard to do the same when around Draco. Her temper always got the better of her, and she couldn't seem to think straight. Her heart raced, her breath caught, and she was always slightly off kilter. This wasn't like her at all.
"There's a dress to match that I've ordered for you," Draco continued. "It'll arrive at your home sometime tomorrow evening."
"You..." Ginny's mouth fell open, and she couldn't think of a response.
"I'll match as well, of course," Draco said briskly. He smiled as if half of his face wasn't an angry red from her slap. "Shall I pick you up at your home at six?"
Her mind completed its short circuit. "I'll be ready," she responded.
His smile was sinuous and held the promise of adventure. "I can't wait."
Anybody who was anybody had been invited to the Wood estate for the anniversary party. As one of Oliver's associates, Ginny had been given an invitation. She had simply assumed she would ask a friend to come with her. She had never dreamed that she would have an honest to goodness date, and that she was plotting nefarious things.
Oh dear. She was even starting to think like a gothic romance novel. This was bad.
But Ginny was dressed in a silver gown of satin and lace, elaborate stitching and crystals sewn into the skirt to make it match her mother's locket. Ginny hadn't taken it off since Draco had placed it around her neck. If she thought about that moment, she could still feel his touch along her collarbone. He had also gifted her with opal earrings set in filigree silver. She had thought of refusing the gift, but ultimately had worn them without protest. Like the dress, they were too delicate and wonderful to give up wearing just once.
Draco arrived on time, dressed in a tux with silver adornments. He extended his arm to her rather gallantly, and Ginny had shivered as she took it. His eyes seemed to look like silver, the pupils wide and easy to drown in. He was impeccable, every inch a gentleman. He clasped his other hand over hers and smiled smoothly. "We'll be all right, Ginny," he murmured. "You'll see. I'll protect you."
Somehow, she even believed him.
The Wood estate was a grand, sprawling mansion with manicured lawns, sculpted trees and an exquisite garden worthy of a magazine layout. The interior was richly decorated, everything placed just so. The entire home was set to impress, and Ginny couldn't help but think that it didn't feel like a real home. Not like the Burrow had felt before the war, anyway. She didn't feel as though she could curl up on the ornate furniture with a trashy novel in hand. She couldn't put her feet up on the couch with a pint of ice cream. She couldn't throw a slumber party in the den with her loudest and most obnoxious girlfriends.
"Rather gaudy, isn't it?" Draco murmured in her ear. Ginny grinned and tightened her grip on his arm. It felt good to have him agree with her.
Introductions were made, and the impromptu couple made the social rounds. They smiled and made small talk with Oliver and his parents, and allowed themselves to be pulled in by Patrice Wood, who wanted to show off her vase collection and her exquisite new orchid collection scattered throughout the house. They followed obediently, and Oliver went off to try and ply Millicent Bulstrode with wine. She had developed into quite the beauty over the past several years, and she had recently inherited her family's fortune.
Draco and Ginny both kept their eyes out for the broom design, though they knew Oliver may have just as easily transfigured it. They were betting that he hadn't, that he arrogantly thought he was safe. As soon as was polite, they detached themselves from Patrice's side. Oliver hadn't hidden the design with any of his mother's collections.
"We'll have to do this the old fashioned way," Draco murmured.
"What are you–?"
Draco dragged her into the nearest room. Ginny swallowed down the yelp of surprise and looked around. It was the library, and there were many papers strewn about the room. She immediately gravitated toward them and searched. They were mostly plans to build a greenhouse, not a broom, and she threw them back on the desk in disappointment.
"None of those feel like your design?"
"No, not a one," Ginny replied, disappointed. She looked at Draco, worried. "There's so many rooms in this place, and so many hiding spots in each one."
"There's really only so many places to hide something effectively," Draco murmured. "He's proven damned arrogant so far. I think I know where he might have hidden it."
"Where?"
"His bedroom."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh, no. I'm not going in there with you?"
"Why not? It's the logical place, and you know what the blasted thing looks like."
The thought of Draco and a bed in close proximity made her stomach churn. It had been entirely too long since she'd been in bed with a man, and her heart was already beating wildly. She couldn't make any promises to control herself if the situation grew worse.
But Draco was already dragging her out of the library, and down the hall. "Patrice said something about the family bedrooms being down this way..."
Ginny wanted to protest. She wanted to scream and rail at him, strike him down for even suggesting that the two of them spend time together in a bedroom. But she remembered how red his face had been when she had slapped him, and that he had spent time and effort to put her entire ensemble together. He had to have polished her mother's locket by hand; no spell would have touched it. It was altogether too personal and too wonderful that he had been doing these things, even if he would eventually be paid to help her.
She almost hoped that he would have wanted to help her anyway.
Oliver's bedroom was done up in dark woods and emerald green. They searched through the dresser, the few books at the bedside table and the paintings on the wall. Ginny was beginning to despair of ever finding her design. Oliver was going to win the position, and it wasn't going to be a fair fight. She was going to lose, no matter what hard work she put into it.
Ginny sank down on top of Oliver's bed, eyes downcast. She looked at her hands in her lap and tried not to cry. She had been too emotionally fragile since her mother's death, and work had been the only thing she had been able to focus on. To have that ripped away from her had made her dangerously volatile. Being too close to Draco was making her too aware of her own frustrated desires and needs.
He sat down beside her and pushed the curls from her neck. He kissed the base of her spine gently, almost reverently. "We'll find it. It's here. I know it is."
Ginny looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "How do you know? It's a huge house. It's not even a house. It's a museum, and it's too full."
He stroked her cheek, tracing its curve with the backs of his fingers. His eyes were so dark, so wide. His lips parted, and hers parted in response. Maybe things would work themselves out and the twisting, tangling feeling in her gut could finally be silenced.
Or maybe the tangling feeling would only grow worse, more insistent. Maybe she would want to be with him all the time. He was calm next to her storm, and he was steady against her whirling pattern of thoughts.
He kissed her then, one hand cupping her cheek. The other slid down her arm and then rested on the bed. He pushed back, leaning her down onto the bed, her head hitting the pillow, his hand sliding beneath it to support her.
His hand hit paper.
Draco kept kissing her, since Ginny's mouth had opened beneath his. Her breath escaped with a soft sigh, and her arms wound tight around him. Her tongue slid into his mouth first, tasting his almost hesitantly. He responded, tongue moving around hers, and she made a soft mewling noise of pleasure. It's been a long time since she felt desire, and a long time since she had been kissed in a way that had her heart singing.
He broke the kiss and didn't move. He tilted his head slightly so that their foreheads touched. "I think we found quite a bit here, Ginny."
His voice was soft, wrapping itself around her. "Oh," Ginny breathed. "Yes, I think so."
"Can you chatter outside as if nothing happened?"
"Is it over so soon?"
His eyes were dark, swirling pools of silver. "Never. Eternity won't be long enough. But I think we've found the Siren."
Ginny's eyes widened as Draco pulled back. He pulled his hand out from beneath the pillow, and there was a folded wad of paper in hand. Excitedly, Ginny sat up and unfolded it carefully. She looked up at Draco with shining eyes, her face breaking out into a brilliant grin. Draco looked from her face to the sleek broom design in her hands, and knew which was more beautiful.
They shrunk the design and tucked it away in her mother's locket. She clasped her hand around it and let Draco link his fingers through her other hand. Ginny snuck glances at him out of the corner of her eyes as they made the rounds of the party. She smiled when people told her that they made a striking couple, and all she could think of was the kiss they had shared. She could still feel it on her lips, and her heart still fluttered.
She hadn't felt this in a long time, and it felt wonderful.
Maybe she had found something better than her broom design that evening.
Patrice tucked an orchid into Ginny's hair, startling her out of her reverie. "Oh! Thank you!"
Patrice laughed and patted her arm gently. "Your young man must be a good one, to have you looking after him like that. And you didn't even notice that your hair had come undone a bit." Her smile was genuinely pleased. "Young love. It's a rare thing, when it's true. It's like an orchid, I suppose. There's an exorbitant amount of care involved in getting it off to the right start. But once it all works out, it's wondrous to behold."
Ginny's smile was soft and luminous. "Yes, Patrice, I really think it is."
"He suits you, I think. Not that I know either of you well, mind, but you just look... You're both so peaceful together. It's a sense that you understand each other, that it's not just a superficial kind of connection. Not like my son and all of his girlfriends. They didn't mesh well. The two of you look perfectly in sync." Patrice gave Ginny's hand a squeeze. "You're a lucky girl, my dear. It gives me hope. Maybe someday my son will find someone to complement him. To be perfectly honest, I'm sorry it isn't you."
Ginny flushed at the comment. "Thank you. It's new, but... I think I feel what you see."
Patrice beamed with pleasure. "Oh, lovely. You will invite us to the wedding, won't you?"
Draco suddenly appeared by Ginny's arm, rescuing her from the comment. "Well, we'll keep it in mind if we go that route. It's rather soon to contemplate."
Ginny turned and took in his smooth smile, that twist of the lips that she had grown up thinking was the most haughty and belligerent smirk she had ever seen. Now she could see that it was sarcastic, that was trying very hard not to say what was on his mind. It wasn't necessarily hostile, but something he couldn't help. He always had a quip in mind, and it wasn't always appropriate to voice. "Did you want to dance?" she asked, eyebrow rising.
His smile changed to a genuine one. "Actually, I did. Can I tear you away from your enthralling conversation, my dear?"
Patrice waved them off gaily, and went back to her circle of friends. She smiled at her husband, remembering when they were young and testing the waters between themselves.
Ginny curled up in Draco's arms as they danced. "When did this happen?"
"When did what happen?"
"When did I get comfortable with you? When did I want you to kiss me?"
His hand slid dangerously low down her back, and she didn't protest. "I would hope after you slapped me. I'd hate to think of that as our first kiss."
"Are you never serious?"
His arms tightened around her. "When I need to be, when it's necessary. When it's important enough that I don't want to fail."
Ginny pulled back slightly and looked at his eyes, at the slight tightness around them. She thought that maybe she was the only one to see it. "Like now?"
"Precisely like now. I..." He smiled, and it never reached his eyes. "Would you stay? If I asked for time with you and not payment? If I asked for more than this?"
Ginny settled against him, and she could hear his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was the only other sign that he was nervous, that everything hinged on her answer. She could lie, and say that this had been only about getting her design back. She could shatter him, without really thinking about it, and the knowledge was unnerving.
"I wouldn't be offended," Ginny replied after a moment. "I rather like how you hold me."
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Because I rather like holding you, too."
The rest of the party didn't exist, and even the music faded away soon enough. None of it was important, after all.
The society page several months later announced the engagement of Ginevra Molly Weasley to Draco Alexander Malfoy. It was a large notice, with a moving photo of Ginny waving her engagement ring at the camera and Draco pressing a kiss to her neck. They were both grinning, occasionally sneaking glances at each other.
A smaller notice announced that Ginevra Weasley was appointed a new partner at Broome and Handles Design after record sales from her most spectacular design yet, the Siren.
Sometimes, things work out well in the end.
The End.
Eustacia Vye is the author of 37 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 24 members. Members who liked Siren also liked 1409 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 24 members. Members who liked Siren also liked 1409 other stories.
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