~ His Pain
“There’s nothing wrong! I just want you to get properly settled down, have the life that you deserve, but you’re being a prick about it!”
Malfoy set his cutlery down, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Smirking, he drawled, “I assure you that I need no help in that department. I manage well enough on my own.” A pointed look at the bar across from their booth emphasized his point.
Ginny rolled her eyes at the unfathomably empty expressions of the blondes situated there and jerked her coffee cup to her lips irritably. “That is not what you deserve.”
Her best mate leaned back, a small frown marring his face. “Oh? And what is it I deserve, pray tell?”
After chewing her chocolate pastry for a few moments, Ginny shrugged, throwing a dirty look at the openly gaping women by the bar, and sighed, “Someone more refined – who doesn’t sit idly at bars on Tuesday nights; a good, clean girl to match your equally spotless image.”
The blond opposite her snorted, one of his hands reaching for his water. Ginny watched in fascination as he threw back the whole glass, eyes closed, and emitted a derisive snort of her own. “Is that for the audience?”
Malfoy set his empty glass down and glanced at the bar again. His eyes traveled over each woman slowly, and Ginny wondered how any of his conquests could stand the embarrassment, the criticism in those pewter eyes when he did so. Shaking her head, Ginny downed her coffee and waited.
Finally, he turned back to her, eyes dark, and asked, “Spotless?”
Gesticulating futilely before forming her words, she pushed her plate to the center of the minute table and glanced around at the public. Sighing once more, she muttered, “It is. You’re more of a whore than any woman I’ve met, of course, but you’re otherwise clean. Marrying one of those brainless bimbos would negate all that you’ve accomplished. Malfoy, why do you insist on these tarts?”
He sneered then, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. His long legs stretched out, brushing hers absently, and he sneered. “They’re simple; I don’t have to think, and I certainly don’t need much time. It’s dreadful, waking in the morning to one of their ghastly faces, Weasley. So I just leave them wherever we happen to shag. Saves me the trouble of getting rid of them the morning after.”
Ginny frowned in disgust, glaring into his playful eyes. “That’s incredibly shallow of you, Malfoy.”
He shrugged casually, masculinity oozing from him. “So are the women I use.”
“Use? Honestly? If not for the women, have some respect for yourself! Despite what you may think, commitment is not equivalent to incarceration.”
Grinning, he drawled, “You think too lowly of me to be my best mate.”
“Thank the heavens I’m not, then.”
“Weasley, you wound me. Am I really that much of an arse?”
Ginny leaned across the small booth, taking his chiseled cheeks into her small hands, and beamed. “You’re an arse no matter what you do. A simple ‘thank you’ from you might as well be the death sentence. Do you ever consider how pointless your lifestyle is?”
Malfoy pulled out of her hold and growled, “Maybe that’s how I want it. Ever consider that?”
Ginny sat back and dug through her bag. Dropping a few galleons onto the table, she stood and reached for her coat. Malfoy stood with her, slipping the thick wool over her shoulders, and paid the entire bill with his own clutter of money, shoving Ginny’s back into her bag.
“I invited you, Malfoy.”
“I have more money.”
Groaning in defeat, Ginny took her purse from him and started for the door. He held it open as she pulled her gloves on, exiting. Catching his eyes, Ginny smiled. “Breakfast tomorrow?”
“How’s The Ivy?”
Ginny looked away, blushing despite the cold. “I – uh – “
“I’m inviting you, Weasley.”
“You always pay anyway! I’m sick of being dependent.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You can jumpstart your independence by quitting that pathetic job of yours. But do let me pay. I’ll be feeling guilty otherwise.”
Nodding in defeat, Ginny moved to kiss his cheek, but her high heels did not even bring her level with Malfoy’s shoulders. He leaned down briefly to comply, and they disapparated their separate ways.
~
Pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly, Ginny kicked her front door with avid fervor, if for nothing more than to stop the incessant pounding that came from the other side. Silence ensued, and Ginny was just about to alohomora the damn thing when the pounding swiftly resumed. The clock above her fireplace chimed two hours past midnight.
Ripping the door from its frame, Ginny snarled the first words that came to her mouth, “What the fucking hell do you want!?”
As soon as she saw his face, her heart began to ache. Stepping back to let him through, Ginny watched as he fell against the door the moment it closed. He raised a slip of paper to her, and a strong odour of alcohol permeated her senses. Jerking it out of his hands roughly, Ginny lit her wand to read:
Draco Malfoy
Puddlemere United Public Offices
Chief Trainer
We are very sorry to inform you of your mother’s passing last night shortly before nineteen hours. We regret your loss.
Private Ward Healers
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Suppressing a horrific sob, Ginny tossed the slip onto the floor, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned away from her, breathing heavily, smashed beyond recognition. She led him to the free bedroom, which had promptly turned into Draco’s bedroom when she’d realized that no one else ever really spent the night at her flat. Tossing him onto the bed, Ginny pulled his shoes off and hung up his coat. Before she was able to so much as tuck him in, he was deep in the abyss of sleep. He was a rotten drunk, and Ginny decided not to push her luck, closing the door behind her as she left him in peace.
Checking all of the wards before she took herself to bed, Ginny came upon the note she had thrown down earlier. Lifting the parchment to her eyes once more, Ginny wept quietly for the loss, both hers and Malfoy’s.
Narcissa had been an extremely beautiful woman, and Ginny had found her extraordinary and grabbing. Lucius and Narcissa had had similarly striking faces, so maybe that explained the indescribable beauty that was Ginny’s best friend.
Ginny had always loved him for it – his wonderful, beautiful beauty. Having lived her life as part of a family of infamously red and freckled Weasleys, the break that Draco gave her from that life was a relief.
She supposed there was a selfish and shallow streak to her assertion as well: she didn’t have to share. Unlike the numerous robes and supplies and Quidditch posters that had been passed from sibling to sibling, Draco was completely hers. He was beautiful and untainted with use; though not by women.
A bitter smile twisted her lips as the thought entered Ginny’s head. He deserved better, he just refused to see it. But she would find him a good, rich, pureblooded woman, and see him off to his happy life. It would have made Narcissa happy.
Rolling up the parchment once more, Ginny set it on the kitchen counter and shuffled to her room. A quick glance in the mirror set Ginny’s lips in a rueful twist again. She pushed her dreadfully red hair back and tipped her face thoughtfully. Next to Draco, she could never attract attention. The only reason Jaret was dating her was that he had not yet met Malfoy; Ginny was sure he would change sexualities for the blond, if given the opportunity.
What hurt slightly more than everything else, though, was that she knew how Draco felt, too. If he’d thought she was even remotely attractive, he would have tried to shag her long ago. It wasn’t that she needed him to shag her, per se; but it was the thought that counted, wasn't it? He, to her, was more beautiful and meaningful than the world, and she to him, painfully plain.
Suddenly overcome with worry and love, Ginny set about cleaning her small chamber, wondering if Draco would want to organize a proper burial. The mood for sleep had been effectively ruined.
He and his mother had not been close, or even friendly, as far as Ginny knew. The few times he had even mentioned her were when he needed a date to some charity ball or other event at which he knew his mother would attempt to badger him. Ginny smiled as she thought back to the last one they had attended, little over two months ago, to celebrate Draco’s twenty-fifth birthday and raise funds for a private Lancaster hospital.
His mother had been quickly approaching them with Pansy and Astoria on her heels, and Ginny had promptly been pulled flush against Draco’s body as he practically flew them to the dance floor. The two Slytherins had never stopped trying, Ginny realized, remembering the awful encounters she and Draco had had with the two women in the most unusual of places. How sad, Ginny thought, that Draco tired even of the most beautiful.
Yet, if his mother’s death caused him enough pain to go out of his way to get intoxicated in the wee hours of the morning, there had to have been a bond. Ginny pondered the issue as she tried not to think of the unconscious body lying one wall away.
By the time her room was in relative order, the clock had chimed seven times, and Ginny ran to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. In the distance, she heard the shower running, and her muscles tightened, worried that he would shut her out again.
Despite their close friendship, of which they had had five full-running years, there were intermittent glitches in the way Draco treated her: fully ignoring her one day, showering her with gifts the next. The one thing that remained constant, however, was that he did not react well to embarrassment and vulnerability, and after his behavior the previous night, Ginny knew he would be uppity that morning.
Transferring the eggs onto two clean plates, Ginny set the table and awaited Draco. Precisely two minutes later, he walked regally into the room, silent and intimidating in his posture. Ginny rolled her eyes subtly, but he looked at her with a frown. “What?”
“Nothing. I made some eggs and sausage – do you want anything else?”
Malfoy’s eyes moved over the plate swiftly and he shook his head. “No, it’ll be enough. I need to get to work in a bit, anyway.” A pause. “Listen, about yest – “
Ginny did not have the heart to go through it, so she interrupted, “Look, you don’t have to – “
“I hadn’t meant to make a scene. Merlin, I don’t now why I even came to your home when I was just so smashed - “
“Malfoy,” Ginny started crossly, pouring herself another generous cup of juice, “I’ve seen you like that more than once before, and last night, you had as good a reason as any. Honestly, it’s fine. Don’t mention it.”
He faltered for a second, seeming to contemplate her words with seriousness, before the frown fell from his face, and he shook his head. Running an errant hand through his soft hair, he stood. “I have an early meeting this morning, so I’ve got to go. I – “
“For God’s sake, Malfoy, don’t you ever get tired of it?” Ginny determinedly blocked the door and put her hands on her hips. Enough was enough. This was his mother.
He glared at her. “Excuse me?”
Her voice level rose with each word she uttered. “I lost Fred nearly ten years ago, and every time I think of him, all I can feel is blind, red pain, and I want to go back ten years into the past and murder whoever it was that blew up that Godforsaken place. I know pain, Malfoy, and I know pain.” Storming over to him, Ginny pointed a shaking finger up at him, “So don’t you even act like I can’t understand! It’s been ten years for me, and only one night for you, but it doesn’t change a thing! Pain is pain, and you cannot escape it just by disregarding my efforts and pretending nothing has happened.”
He blinked, the hard expression in his eyes refusing to leave, but he caught her hand silently and lowered it. Finding herself unable to stop, Ginny stepped back as hot tears streaked down her face, and looked away. “Gosh, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is ridiculous, I didn’t even know her … “
Malfoy was silent, watching the progress of her tears as they made their way down her crumpled face. She wiped them messily with the sleeves of her jumper and blushed. He stepped forward hesitantly, a grimace spreading over his face. “I … Weasley, I really do have to go. I’ll come back after work, yeah? We can talk about this.”
Ginny nodded quickly and stepped forward to kiss him. His lips lingered on her cheek for a moment, and then he was gone, the crack of his disapparition leaving Ginny cold and alone.
~
“Oh, honestly!” Ginny exclaimed in dismay as Malfoy approached her. “That couldn’t have been more than ten minutes!”
He winked, deliberately slowing his movements as he seated himself next to her once more. “That’s all it takes with me.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, “Did you at least make sure she was satisfied? It would be awfully rude to get yours and neglect to take care of her.”
Malfoy chuckled in his rumbling voice, “Of course I took care of her; she was more ready for me that I was for her, and that’s saying something. You know, for a virtuously chaste virgin, you are incredibly comfortable about sex.”
“Just because I don’t have sex doesn’t mean I don’t like talking about it. I know what goes where, and that’s enough, isn’t it?”
Leaning over the bar, he ordered another shot of firewhisky as he raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re incredibly deprived, Weasley, I hope you know.”
Ginny sighed into her ginger ale, “Don’t remind me.”
~
Pulling her knees up to her chin, Ginny shuddered as the last of her breath left her. The floor was cold, and her arse wasn’t faring too well on it, but Ginny couldn’t gather the strength to stand. Her stomach, bruised and beaten, heaved as she fought to sit straight. Her face ached from the blows. At least the fire was glowing brightly in the next room; the air was warming slowly.
A knock sounded at her door, and Ginny smiled slightly. Five years of absolute closeness, yet Draco refused to be ‘vulgar.’ Knocking on the door, he said, was more honorable than simply bursting into her home or appearing in her fireplace. Giving her the privacy she needed, he said, was more upstanding than forcing his company on her when unwanted. Jaret wasn’t like that.
Just as her hand reached to open the door, Ginny froze. What would he think?
In the mirror, Ginny saw her black eye and the red bruises on her neck. She winced at the thought of what was underneath her clothes. Biting her lip, Ginny stepped to the door again. She had never turned Draco away before.
The knocking continued, three confident taps at a time, and then a pause. It grated her nerves, keeping this from him.
Finally, Ginny put her palm gently against the door and murmured, “Draco.”
The knocking stopped. He didn’t respond, and Ginny spoke a bit louder, “I’m not, er, feeling very good right now. I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to see me like this.” What a lie. He’d seen her chucking the contents of her stomach more times than she could count. But this was different.
A bit of movement sounded on the other side, and then his unwavering voice responded, “That’s fine, if you’re sure. Do you want some food? I brought Italian. I’ll just leave it by the door.”
Ginny smiled affectionately, voicing her thanks, and waited for him to leave. A pop came from the corridor a moment later, and Ginny unlocked the door to retrieve the warm, delicately-wrapped bag.
“There’s nothing wrong! I just want you to get properly settled down, have the life that you deserve, but you’re being a prick about it!”
Malfoy set his cutlery down, eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Smirking, he drawled, “I assure you that I need no help in that department. I manage well enough on my own.” A pointed look at the bar across from their booth emphasized his point.
Ginny rolled her eyes at the unfathomably empty expressions of the blondes situated there and jerked her coffee cup to her lips irritably. “That is not what you deserve.”
Her best mate leaned back, a small frown marring his face. “Oh? And what is it I deserve, pray tell?”
After chewing her chocolate pastry for a few moments, Ginny shrugged, throwing a dirty look at the openly gaping women by the bar, and sighed, “Someone more refined – who doesn’t sit idly at bars on Tuesday nights; a good, clean girl to match your equally spotless image.”
The blond opposite her snorted, one of his hands reaching for his water. Ginny watched in fascination as he threw back the whole glass, eyes closed, and emitted a derisive snort of her own. “Is that for the audience?”
Malfoy set his empty glass down and glanced at the bar again. His eyes traveled over each woman slowly, and Ginny wondered how any of his conquests could stand the embarrassment, the criticism in those pewter eyes when he did so. Shaking her head, Ginny downed her coffee and waited.
Finally, he turned back to her, eyes dark, and asked, “Spotless?”
Gesticulating futilely before forming her words, she pushed her plate to the center of the minute table and glanced around at the public. Sighing once more, she muttered, “It is. You’re more of a whore than any woman I’ve met, of course, but you’re otherwise clean. Marrying one of those brainless bimbos would negate all that you’ve accomplished. Malfoy, why do you insist on these tarts?”
He sneered then, crossing his arms over his chest loosely. His long legs stretched out, brushing hers absently, and he sneered. “They’re simple; I don’t have to think, and I certainly don’t need much time. It’s dreadful, waking in the morning to one of their ghastly faces, Weasley. So I just leave them wherever we happen to shag. Saves me the trouble of getting rid of them the morning after.”
Ginny frowned in disgust, glaring into his playful eyes. “That’s incredibly shallow of you, Malfoy.”
He shrugged casually, masculinity oozing from him. “So are the women I use.”
“Use? Honestly? If not for the women, have some respect for yourself! Despite what you may think, commitment is not equivalent to incarceration.”
Grinning, he drawled, “You think too lowly of me to be my best mate.”
“Thank the heavens I’m not, then.”
“Weasley, you wound me. Am I really that much of an arse?”
Ginny leaned across the small booth, taking his chiseled cheeks into her small hands, and beamed. “You’re an arse no matter what you do. A simple ‘thank you’ from you might as well be the death sentence. Do you ever consider how pointless your lifestyle is?”
Malfoy pulled out of her hold and growled, “Maybe that’s how I want it. Ever consider that?”
Ginny sat back and dug through her bag. Dropping a few galleons onto the table, she stood and reached for her coat. Malfoy stood with her, slipping the thick wool over her shoulders, and paid the entire bill with his own clutter of money, shoving Ginny’s back into her bag.
“I invited you, Malfoy.”
“I have more money.”
Groaning in defeat, Ginny took her purse from him and started for the door. He held it open as she pulled her gloves on, exiting. Catching his eyes, Ginny smiled. “Breakfast tomorrow?”
“How’s The Ivy?”
Ginny looked away, blushing despite the cold. “I – uh – “
“I’m inviting you, Weasley.”
“You always pay anyway! I’m sick of being dependent.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You can jumpstart your independence by quitting that pathetic job of yours. But do let me pay. I’ll be feeling guilty otherwise.”
Nodding in defeat, Ginny moved to kiss his cheek, but her high heels did not even bring her level with Malfoy’s shoulders. He leaned down briefly to comply, and they disapparated their separate ways.
~
Pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly, Ginny kicked her front door with avid fervor, if for nothing more than to stop the incessant pounding that came from the other side. Silence ensued, and Ginny was just about to alohomora the damn thing when the pounding swiftly resumed. The clock above her fireplace chimed two hours past midnight.
Ripping the door from its frame, Ginny snarled the first words that came to her mouth, “What the fucking hell do you want!?”
As soon as she saw his face, her heart began to ache. Stepping back to let him through, Ginny watched as he fell against the door the moment it closed. He raised a slip of paper to her, and a strong odour of alcohol permeated her senses. Jerking it out of his hands roughly, Ginny lit her wand to read:
Draco Malfoy
Puddlemere United Public Offices
Chief Trainer
We are very sorry to inform you of your mother’s passing last night shortly before nineteen hours. We regret your loss.
Private Ward Healers
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Suppressing a horrific sob, Ginny tossed the slip onto the floor, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned away from her, breathing heavily, smashed beyond recognition. She led him to the free bedroom, which had promptly turned into Draco’s bedroom when she’d realized that no one else ever really spent the night at her flat. Tossing him onto the bed, Ginny pulled his shoes off and hung up his coat. Before she was able to so much as tuck him in, he was deep in the abyss of sleep. He was a rotten drunk, and Ginny decided not to push her luck, closing the door behind her as she left him in peace.
Checking all of the wards before she took herself to bed, Ginny came upon the note she had thrown down earlier. Lifting the parchment to her eyes once more, Ginny wept quietly for the loss, both hers and Malfoy’s.
Narcissa had been an extremely beautiful woman, and Ginny had found her extraordinary and grabbing. Lucius and Narcissa had had similarly striking faces, so maybe that explained the indescribable beauty that was Ginny’s best friend.
Ginny had always loved him for it – his wonderful, beautiful beauty. Having lived her life as part of a family of infamously red and freckled Weasleys, the break that Draco gave her from that life was a relief.
She supposed there was a selfish and shallow streak to her assertion as well: she didn’t have to share. Unlike the numerous robes and supplies and Quidditch posters that had been passed from sibling to sibling, Draco was completely hers. He was beautiful and untainted with use; though not by women.
A bitter smile twisted her lips as the thought entered Ginny’s head. He deserved better, he just refused to see it. But she would find him a good, rich, pureblooded woman, and see him off to his happy life. It would have made Narcissa happy.
Rolling up the parchment once more, Ginny set it on the kitchen counter and shuffled to her room. A quick glance in the mirror set Ginny’s lips in a rueful twist again. She pushed her dreadfully red hair back and tipped her face thoughtfully. Next to Draco, she could never attract attention. The only reason Jaret was dating her was that he had not yet met Malfoy; Ginny was sure he would change sexualities for the blond, if given the opportunity.
What hurt slightly more than everything else, though, was that she knew how Draco felt, too. If he’d thought she was even remotely attractive, he would have tried to shag her long ago. It wasn’t that she needed him to shag her, per se; but it was the thought that counted, wasn't it? He, to her, was more beautiful and meaningful than the world, and she to him, painfully plain.
Suddenly overcome with worry and love, Ginny set about cleaning her small chamber, wondering if Draco would want to organize a proper burial. The mood for sleep had been effectively ruined.
He and his mother had not been close, or even friendly, as far as Ginny knew. The few times he had even mentioned her were when he needed a date to some charity ball or other event at which he knew his mother would attempt to badger him. Ginny smiled as she thought back to the last one they had attended, little over two months ago, to celebrate Draco’s twenty-fifth birthday and raise funds for a private Lancaster hospital.
His mother had been quickly approaching them with Pansy and Astoria on her heels, and Ginny had promptly been pulled flush against Draco’s body as he practically flew them to the dance floor. The two Slytherins had never stopped trying, Ginny realized, remembering the awful encounters she and Draco had had with the two women in the most unusual of places. How sad, Ginny thought, that Draco tired even of the most beautiful.
Yet, if his mother’s death caused him enough pain to go out of his way to get intoxicated in the wee hours of the morning, there had to have been a bond. Ginny pondered the issue as she tried not to think of the unconscious body lying one wall away.
By the time her room was in relative order, the clock had chimed seven times, and Ginny ran to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. In the distance, she heard the shower running, and her muscles tightened, worried that he would shut her out again.
Despite their close friendship, of which they had had five full-running years, there were intermittent glitches in the way Draco treated her: fully ignoring her one day, showering her with gifts the next. The one thing that remained constant, however, was that he did not react well to embarrassment and vulnerability, and after his behavior the previous night, Ginny knew he would be uppity that morning.
Transferring the eggs onto two clean plates, Ginny set the table and awaited Draco. Precisely two minutes later, he walked regally into the room, silent and intimidating in his posture. Ginny rolled her eyes subtly, but he looked at her with a frown. “What?”
“Nothing. I made some eggs and sausage – do you want anything else?”
Malfoy’s eyes moved over the plate swiftly and he shook his head. “No, it’ll be enough. I need to get to work in a bit, anyway.” A pause. “Listen, about yest – “
Ginny did not have the heart to go through it, so she interrupted, “Look, you don’t have to – “
“I hadn’t meant to make a scene. Merlin, I don’t now why I even came to your home when I was just so smashed - “
“Malfoy,” Ginny started crossly, pouring herself another generous cup of juice, “I’ve seen you like that more than once before, and last night, you had as good a reason as any. Honestly, it’s fine. Don’t mention it.”
He faltered for a second, seeming to contemplate her words with seriousness, before the frown fell from his face, and he shook his head. Running an errant hand through his soft hair, he stood. “I have an early meeting this morning, so I’ve got to go. I – “
“For God’s sake, Malfoy, don’t you ever get tired of it?” Ginny determinedly blocked the door and put her hands on her hips. Enough was enough. This was his mother.
He glared at her. “Excuse me?”
Her voice level rose with each word she uttered. “I lost Fred nearly ten years ago, and every time I think of him, all I can feel is blind, red pain, and I want to go back ten years into the past and murder whoever it was that blew up that Godforsaken place. I know pain, Malfoy, and I know pain.” Storming over to him, Ginny pointed a shaking finger up at him, “So don’t you even act like I can’t understand! It’s been ten years for me, and only one night for you, but it doesn’t change a thing! Pain is pain, and you cannot escape it just by disregarding my efforts and pretending nothing has happened.”
He blinked, the hard expression in his eyes refusing to leave, but he caught her hand silently and lowered it. Finding herself unable to stop, Ginny stepped back as hot tears streaked down her face, and looked away. “Gosh, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is ridiculous, I didn’t even know her … “
Malfoy was silent, watching the progress of her tears as they made their way down her crumpled face. She wiped them messily with the sleeves of her jumper and blushed. He stepped forward hesitantly, a grimace spreading over his face. “I … Weasley, I really do have to go. I’ll come back after work, yeah? We can talk about this.”
Ginny nodded quickly and stepped forward to kiss him. His lips lingered on her cheek for a moment, and then he was gone, the crack of his disapparition leaving Ginny cold and alone.
~
“Oh, honestly!” Ginny exclaimed in dismay as Malfoy approached her. “That couldn’t have been more than ten minutes!”
He winked, deliberately slowing his movements as he seated himself next to her once more. “That’s all it takes with me.”
Ginny rolled her eyes, “Did you at least make sure she was satisfied? It would be awfully rude to get yours and neglect to take care of her.”
Malfoy chuckled in his rumbling voice, “Of course I took care of her; she was more ready for me that I was for her, and that’s saying something. You know, for a virtuously chaste virgin, you are incredibly comfortable about sex.”
“Just because I don’t have sex doesn’t mean I don’t like talking about it. I know what goes where, and that’s enough, isn’t it?”
Leaning over the bar, he ordered another shot of firewhisky as he raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re incredibly deprived, Weasley, I hope you know.”
Ginny sighed into her ginger ale, “Don’t remind me.”
~
Pulling her knees up to her chin, Ginny shuddered as the last of her breath left her. The floor was cold, and her arse wasn’t faring too well on it, but Ginny couldn’t gather the strength to stand. Her stomach, bruised and beaten, heaved as she fought to sit straight. Her face ached from the blows. At least the fire was glowing brightly in the next room; the air was warming slowly.
A knock sounded at her door, and Ginny smiled slightly. Five years of absolute closeness, yet Draco refused to be ‘vulgar.’ Knocking on the door, he said, was more honorable than simply bursting into her home or appearing in her fireplace. Giving her the privacy she needed, he said, was more upstanding than forcing his company on her when unwanted. Jaret wasn’t like that.
Just as her hand reached to open the door, Ginny froze. What would he think?
In the mirror, Ginny saw her black eye and the red bruises on her neck. She winced at the thought of what was underneath her clothes. Biting her lip, Ginny stepped to the door again. She had never turned Draco away before.
The knocking continued, three confident taps at a time, and then a pause. It grated her nerves, keeping this from him.
Finally, Ginny put her palm gently against the door and murmured, “Draco.”
The knocking stopped. He didn’t respond, and Ginny spoke a bit louder, “I’m not, er, feeling very good right now. I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to see me like this.” What a lie. He’d seen her chucking the contents of her stomach more times than she could count. But this was different.
A bit of movement sounded on the other side, and then his unwavering voice responded, “That’s fine, if you’re sure. Do you want some food? I brought Italian. I’ll just leave it by the door.”
Ginny smiled affectionately, voicing her thanks, and waited for him to leave. A pop came from the corridor a moment later, and Ginny unlocked the door to retrieve the warm, delicately-wrapped bag.
Author notes: Please review!
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