Chapter six: Sojourned

Ginevra was almost starting to feel like a witch again, now that she'd had a shower and found a serviceable set of robes to wear. She sat before the fire place in the hope that the heat might dry her damp hair while she glared vehemently at Draco, who was currently napping on the lounge... and she wasn't admiring his leanly muscled body at all.

"You know, it is difficult get some sleep when I know you're sitting over there staring at me," he said lackadaisically, his eyes still shut.

"Good," she replied curtly, crossing her arms.

Draco sat up abruptly, his feet hitting the floor with a thud. "Look, we'll probably be stuck here for a while, but we might not. Get some rest while you can." He motioned to the bed in the far corner, and she flushed, to her chagrin. "And stop bothering me."

"You're welcome to the bed. I'm not tired," she said, shuffling a little further away from the fire behind her as her face grew hot. Merlin, it's just a bed.

He leant forward, his arms resting on his knees as he gazed directly at her. "I would love nothing more than to take it, but unfortunately my mother raised me to be polite and ensure the comfort of the witches in my company over my own." Draco paused, his expression thoughtful. "Speaking of mother, would you care to explain exactly how you know her so well?"

Ginevra looked away. This wasn't the first question he'd asked her tonight - or today, rather - and she knew it wouldn't be much longer before he broke her. She glanced at her engagement ring, her right hand absently twisting the band around her finger. Maybe if she told a small tale he might ease off his other interrogations until Narcissa came back...

"Um. Work," she told him, climbing to her feet so she could feign some kind of fascination in the room's furnishings; anything to avoid his gaze.

"Ah, I see." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lean back on the sofa, putting his arms behind his head. "And what exactly do you do for work, Ginevra?"

She almost tripped over the squat coffee table she'd just skirted around at the unexpected question. Well, not so unexpected. Oh dear Merlin...

"I, uh..." Take a breath. Think. Ginevra glanced frantically about the room for inspiration. What on earth do poor people do for work?

She spotted her carelessly discarded hospital gown. No, not a Healer, far too obvious... Draco and Potter are Aurors... What had Draco called that place? "I work at the Ministry," she said quickly, breathing a sigh of relief.

Draco smirked at her. "But Ginevra, I can't see what use the Ministry might have for a retired Quidditch player."

Of course he knew what she did for work. Smug bastard. "The emphasis would be on 'retired.'"

Ginevra glanced at him furtively from the corner of her eye as she moved to examine the scabbards that had been hung on the far wall and saw him narrow his eyes at her. "And what business would my mother have at the Ministry?"

"If I told you, I'd have to Obliviate you," Ginevra told him sweetly, then feigned a yawn. "You know, all this talk has really tired me out..."

She walked toward the bed and turned down the covers then slipped beneath them. "Best get some sleep while you can, Draco."

He didn't respond, and she sank into the mattress, burrowing under the covers. Peace and quiet, finally.

It was silent for a long time before the lounge creaked loudly. "You know, I think you're right," Draco said and she shot up in bed as his footsteps grew louder.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she drew the covers up around her, as though to shield herself from him.

He continued walking toward her, undeterred. "Taking you up on your offer," he told her, and she had to scuttle out of the way as he sank onto the mattress next to her.

Ginevra was about to slide off the bed when Draco pulled his shirt off, and she was ashamed to say that the sight of his naked torso left her frozen in place. Seeing him like this drew so many memories to the fore, of the intimacy she had once shared with him, the easiness of their relationship.

It's only been one day, she told herself sternly, though she knew it wouldn't make a difference; she would do anything for just a taste of all they'd once had together.

Unrequited love was a bitch.


Draco had Ginevra right where he wanted her. Her eyes had gone dark with lust, her lips parting and back slightly arching as though she was begging for him to touch her.

But somehow this victory wasn't so sweet when, against all reason, his body itched to give Ginevra exactly what she wanted.

"Don't do this to me, Draco," she said, her voice low as she slid further away from him.

He said nothing, inching closer to her as he waited for her to elaborate.

She sighed, as though she knew he was waiting for her, then spoke again. "I know when to pick my battles, Draco Malfoy, and I will not compromise my feelings for a petty victory."

He studied her for a moment, and the look in her eyes stopped him from pushing her to explain. Instead, he said, "I just want answers, Ginevra."

"Don't we all?" she asked him with a dark laugh, and from her troubled look he knew he was missing something important. They sat in silence for a few moments, and she let out a shaky breath. "I'll make you a deal. If you do one thing for me tonight, I'll answer one of your questions."

Draco's Auror instincts knew this opportunity was too good to pass up. If he had to take information where he could find it... "Any one of my questions?"

She hesitated before answering. "Not any one. I'll only answer it if I think it's... safe."

Good enough. Draco had long ago decided which answer was the most important - perhaps not to their current situation, but certainly to him. "I want to know why you have my mother's ring."

"That's what you want to know?" Ginevra asked him, taken aback.

Draco merely nodded stoically.

She looked down at the ring in question as she took a deep breath. After a long moment she looked at him once more, her gaze unwavering. "The ring was given to me by someone I love very dearly," she answered.

Draco had to stop himself from scowling at that one, reminding himself that Ginevra certainly didn't seem to be involved with Potter. "And how did he get his hands on a priceless Malfoy family heirloom?"

Ginevra scowled at him. "I said one question, Draco."

"You gave me a terrible answer; I think I deserve two," he shot back, crossing his arms.

She shook her head at him. "No. I gave you what you asked for, and that's all you'll get from me tonight."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He didn't doubt that was the case, but that was fine. There would always be tomorrow, and Draco was an expert interrogator - if a little unorthodox at times.

"Alright," he conceded, mildly amused by her shocked expression that he gave up so easily. Little does she know what she's in for tomorrow... "What is it you want, then?"

Ginevra immediately looked unsure, but it was fleeting before she steadily met his gaze once more. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that, Draco thought as he smirked at her.

"Not like that," she hastily corrected herself at his expression. "I just want you to lie next to me."

Draco raised a brow at her, amused. "You think you can lie next to me for a whole night and not try to have it off with me?"

"You are such a git," she said huffily as her cheeks pinkened. "While you were off playing Dumbledore today, some of us were busy being detained, interrogated and, oh yeah, electrocuted. Sex isn't exactly foremost on my mind at the moment."

Draco suddenly had a bad feeling in his chest. He wasn't sure, but he thought he almost felt... regret over what had happened to Ginevra. He could almost hear his father's voice berating him for his sudden burst of empathy; and for a Weasley, no less. Focus.

Without a word, Draco stood up and began removing his belt and jeans.

Ginevra was off the bed faster than if she'd Apparated. "Hello, didn't you hear me? I said no sex."

"Relax, Weasley." The purposeful use of her last name almost felt uncomfortable on his tongue, but it helped him remember who she was; or, rather, who she wasn't. "I'm leaving my pants on," he said as he pulled off his jeans, then climbed into bed.

He made himself comfortable under the covers, careful to look as though he couldn't care less about about their arrangement, even though he was entirely sure that his heart had started beating loud enough that the Aurors could hear it from Malfoy Manor's main foyer. If he didn't know better, Draco might have said that Ginevra was making him nervous, of all things.

Ginevra seemed to take his word for it and made herself comfortable too, though he could still feel the waves of tension rolling off her. He didn't like it, not one bit.

Thankfully it wasn't long before her breathing began to even out, and he sensed she had finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. He wasn't sure how deeply she slept, so he was particularly careful not to jostle the mattress as he sat up in bed.

Draco wouldn't go back on his promise - a trade was a trade, after all - but this wasn't his first Quidditch match, and someone needed to stay on guard tonight. His training had kicked in, and the unofficial Auror motto sprang to mind, unbidden: constant vigilance.

His gaze wandered over to Ginevra, and he knew she was in no shape to keep watch. She had curled up on her stomach, the sheets twisting around her body as she'd made herself comfortable, and she'd thrown her arm across the bed, as though reaching for something. Her face was tilted toward him giving him an easy view of her as she slept and he couldn't help but notice how vulnerable she looked.

Staying up all night was a small price to pay if Ginevra might be more forthcoming with information after a full night's sleep. After going against the Ministry, Draco now had a vested interest in Ginevra; he would protect her by any means necessary.


Narcissa and Lucius had been confined to Malfoy Manor's Eastern Reception Room for several hours, since their "return" from the Nott estate. She and her husband had been kept under the watchful eye of two Aurors, as though they were criminals who might attempt to do all kinds of terrible things to hinder the investigation.

Maybe the Aurors weren't as incompetent as Draco and Lucius had often made them out to be.

The ache that had been pressing on her head for the past day suddenly flared up again and Narcissa pressed her hand against her forehead, as though she might be able to push her sudden migraine from her mind.

"Another one?" Lucius asked, and Narcissa offered him a weak smile. Her ever-attentive husband missed nothing, though at present she wished he weren't so observant. She might have spared him the anxiety her episodes gave him.

"You mustn't frown so much, my darling," Narcissa told him, her hand smoothing the lines that creased his forehead.

He caught her hand in his, lowering his voice so the Aurors at the door wouldn't hear. "You must see a Healer. Take a potion. Anything."

"They won't help," she told him with a slight shake of her head, not for the first time. "Trust me. It will go away in time." I hope.

Lucius gave her a measured look before turning to the Aurors. "Is this investigation going to take much longer?" he asked coldly.

The female barely spared them a glance as she stood at her post. "The investigation will take as long as it takes, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius released Narcissa's hand to stand, and the Aurors tensed as though the older man might attack them. "As you can see, my wife isn't well. I have humoured the Ministry's every whim, yet Gudgeon has not been so kind as to inform me as to why my home is being searched. I can assure you that the Aurors will not find anything out of the ordinary."

The Aurors looked uncomfortable as they undoubtedly attempted to come up with excuses, until a new voice joined the conversation."Yet," Harry Potter cut in as he entered the room, followed by Dave Gudgeon, the Head Auror himself. The older man gestured to the two Aurors, and they discreetly moved just outside the entrance to the room. "Hello, Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa acknowledged the greeting with a demure tilt of her head, despite the sudden increase of pain shooting through her skull. Lucius offered Gudgeon and Potter no such courtesy.

"I fail to see why the Ministry suspects my home to be of any use to them in whatever investigation you seem to be making, since this is clearly more than a standard search," Lucius sneered. "Perhaps it would be pertinent to share the reason for your presence in my home, so we might be able to offer some assistance."

"There was a security breach at St Mungo's Hospital tonight, and Draco Malfoy is a suspect," Harry Potter told them without a moment's hesitation, and Narcissa and Lucius looked appropriately aghast by the accusation.

"How dare you come to my home and accuse my son of such a thing," Lucius spat. "He has worked tirelessly to restore the Ministry to its former glory. Draco is an asset to the Aurors - the best, I daresay."

Narcissa ignored her pressing headache as she studied Potter carefully. There was something about him that wasn't adding up... If only she could think through the pain.

"I appreciate the lengths you go to for your son," Gudgeon said haughtily as he rested his hands over the slight belly he'd developed after taking over the Auror Department. "Your misguided dedication as his parents is... admirable. But we have evidence implicating him for the attack at St Mungo's."

Son... Parents... The words seemed to echo through her head, even as Lucius bristled at Gudgeon's patronising remark. Her eyes came to rest on the scar that marred Potter's forehead. Somehow a single thought - familiar yet completely alien - struck through the near-paralyzing agony, and Narcissa had a revelation. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ...

"Lucius," she interrupted whatever her husband had been about to say, and he turned toward her. "Please, just let the Aurors do what they need to do."

She gazed at Harry Potter, an eerie sense of understanding settling over her, and he seemed uncomfortable under her scrutinising gaze as she said to Gudgeon, "We'll recount our evening with you and assist you in any way we can, Mr Gudgeon, and then you will be entitled to draw whatever conclusions you like about our son."


"Mmm..." Ginevra moaned as she burrowed deeper amongst the blankets. Her body ached dully all over, as though she'd just run a marathon, which was ridiculous because she'd never run one in her life.

She felt movement under her cheek, so quickly flung her arm across the bare chest her head rested over. "It's not time to get up yet," she murmured to Draco, her eyes still tightly shut. She felt so content lying here with her fiancé. It was just one of those mornings she never wanted to end.

There was a long silence, and Ginevra's eyes sleepily blinked open. "Draco..." she began, but lost her voice as the past twenty four hours rushed back to her.

Of course. She wasn't at home, in bed with her fiancé in her lavish London apartment. She was hiding out after practically running a marathon, and was now in bed with a veritable stranger... who was looking down at her with a clouded expression.

She immediately pushed away from him, clutching the sheet to her chest like a shield, even though she was fully dressed. "Oh," she said, at a loss for words.

Draco stretched his arms above his head, his lithe muscles stretching taught as he watched her with that unreadable expression, and she looked away as heat rushed to her cheeks. "I trust you slept well?" he asked her.

If Ginevra's cheeks had been hot before, they were burning now. She cast him a haughty look. "As well as one can, under the circumstances," she told him, hoping her phrasing was ambiguous enough to hide her embarrassment. "How about you?" Ginevra asked a moment later, her manners getting the better of her.

"As well as one can, under the circumstances," Draco returned her words with a tired look, watching her from the bed as she stood then walked toward the small dining table.

She stifled a yawn as she looked over the fresh fruit that had been laid out for them while they slept, her brow furrowing when she realised that she would have to cut the fruit by hand. If she didn't have a house elf on hand to do the job for her she would have just used magic, but without her wand... Her eyes flickered in Draco's direction.

"Could you cut this fruit for me?" she asked him sweetly, looking at him over her shoulder. If he were anyone else she would have just demanded he do it, but Draco - any version of him - was an equal and one of the few people worthy of her respect.

He raised a brow, tucking his hands behind his head. "Certainly not."

"Why not?" she asked, studiously ignoring his bunching biceps - her fiancé had definitely never been this fit.

"You have two hands, Ginevra."

She blinked at him, dumbfounded. "You expect me to cut my own fruit?"

"I'm sure you're more than capable of feeding yourself," he told her with a smirk, the one that made her chest ache. "It's good for your development."

Ginevra scowled at him before she turned back to the table, hoping she'd been able to hide her dismay. Unwittingly, her eyes dropped to her bare feet, where her horrible pedicure from the previous night sat as a glaring reminder that she was incapable of doing anything for herself.

Except that wasn't true at all... was it? Ginevra spent three days a week working at Lucius's private company coordinating business functions, networking with clients and fielding owls from Narcissa demanding she stop this "independent" nonsense and join her Society of Horticultural Appreciation instead, and by Merlin she was good at what she did. What was slicing a few mangoes compared to finding the exact shade of emerald to coordinate the table cloths with the drapes for the annual shareholder cocktail party? Merlin knew event planners never noticed the fine details, she thought as she picked up a mango, placing it on one of the china plates before picking up a knife to slice it with.

"You should probably aim away from the seed," Draco called helpfully from where he lounged on the bed as Ginevra pressed the knife against the skin.

"Obviously," she snapped at him irritatedly before returning her attention to the mango, only to realise she had no idea where the seed was.

Draco seemed to notice her dilemma, and despite his earlier words immediately moved from the bed to help her. "Here, let me -"

"No, I can do it," Ginevra said, moving around the table so he couldn't interfere with her task. She gave the fruit a gentle squeeze as she tried to determine how the seed was positioned. Frowning in concentration she pressed the knife against the skin and cut into it smoothly... until she ran straight into the seed.

"Urgh!" She dropped the knife and mango onto the plate with a clatter, covering her face with her hands. "Stupid, useless... urgh!"

There was a low rumbling noise that Ginevra was intimately familiar with, and she flung her hands in the air in frustration. "Don't you dare laugh."

"I'm not, I swear," he said with a shake of his head, though his expression said otherwise.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you of all people should know better."

His mouth twisted into small a smirk as he attempted to regain his composure. "And why should I, Ginevra Weasley?"

Ginevra picked up the mango again to examine it closely, careful not to get any juice on her hands. "Narcissa thought you'd learnt your lesson after that time she threatened you with the gardener's shears and you didn't step foot in Malfoy Manor for a week," she said with a laugh.

She looked up when Draco didn't respond, and his hooded gaze made the blood drain from her face. "Blast it, Draco -" Ginevra began, but stopped talking abruptly when a horrible grinding noise came from the door on the other side of the room.

Draco had his wand drawn and pushed her to the floor before she had time to turn, and the door swung open.

Author notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed my previous chapters, I really appreciate any feedback since this is my first Big Writing Project. I'll try to get around to answering them all when I have enough free time at work. ;)

As I was copying this story from FFN to FIA, we are officially up to date. There shouldn't be a huge difference between the copies posted on each site beyond minor grammatical fix ups at the Cabal's suggestion here, so don't worry too much about which version you're following.

I promise that chapter seven will be uploaded soon - it's totally written and just needs a final look over from my beta, so it'll just be a couple of days (theoretically). Generally my updates on FIA have been monthly-or-so, so it'll be a longer wait for chapter eight, but I promise it'll be worth it because, according to my story plan, it's going to be action-packed.

For now I'll leave you with chapter seven's title as a teaser for the fun that awaits you, darling readers: Revealed

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