If Draco were to be asked to describe hell he knew after this day he would be able to tell this person hell on earth was disguised as a shopping center. Jostled by the crowd, having his eardrums assaulted by the screaming of children and being visually tortured by people in cheap, ill-fitting clothes who clearly thought a monitored calorie intake and exercise were only meant for others was apparently some masochists’ idea of a good time.
Ginny was pushing a stroller with a sleeping Evie and holding an inexplicably excited Liam’s hand as she maneuvered the crowds. Unlike all other mothers he had seen in shopping center so far she was neither harried nor annoyed and red-faced. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Clearly she had some missing screws.
“So, Liam, should we go look at new shoes for you?”
“Will I get a cookie if I go?”
“Your father taught you that one.” Ginny sent him an amused glance and Draco grumbled,
“I most certainly did not.”
As if on cue Evie woke up with a delighted cry.
“COOKIE!” Bouncing excitedly the baby chanted “cookie, cookie, cookie” in a sing song voice and Ginny laughed.
“I guess that settles it. Shoes, then a cookie.”
Stopping in his tracks Draco was pulled, as if by an invisible force, into the store they were passing. The inside was cool and empty and drawing a sigh of relief he passed under the sign spelling “Emporio Armani”. In a small way he felt like he’d just come home. Steering directly for this season’s charcoal Draco barely heard Ginny speak behind him.
“That would look great on you.” He knew it would, the same one hung in his walk-in closet in his London flat.
“I’m going to get it.”
“You do that. While you drool over that I’ll take Liam to get those shoes.”
When she returned he was wearing the full suit, as well as a shirt and was instructing the salesman on the alterations needed. Ginny met his eyes in the mirror.
“It does look fantastic on you, Draco.”
“Your husband was made to wear Armani, Mrs…?”
“Malfoy. I’m sure he likes to think so.” She smiled at the attendant before sidling up to him, leaning closer. “Draco, this suit is two thousand pounds. You’re not actually thinking of buying it, are you?”
“I am. I earned this suit.” He turned in front of the mirror, admiring the familiar way the fabric fell. He had earned it, damn it. Waking up every day to the screaming of the little demons, dealing with baby crap, dog crap, nurseries and being a damn salesman. He needed one little thing to remind him this wasn’t actually his life.
“What’s gotten into you? You know we can’t afford this.”
“Why? Because you’ve decided to work non-profit? Because I’m in a dead-end, ridiculous job working for your father as a salesman? Why, Ginny? Why in the name of Merlin are we living like this?”
“I’m sorry you feel that your life is such a hardship, Draco.” She rolled her eyes. “Now will you take that off and come home? I’ll buy you a cookie.”
“I don’t want a damn cookie!” He exploded. “I want to have my old life back! I want to have things, I want to be somebody!”
Taken aback, Ginny took a step backwards as if to shield Liam and Evie.
“You are somebody! You’re my husband, though sometimes lately it doesn’t feel like it! You’re Liam’s and Evie’s father!”
The attendant fluttered his hands uselessly, clearly not sure if he should interfere or not.
“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do for me! I can’t believe you of all people would let me become this!”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Evie’s bottom lip began to tremble.
“Who are you? If you need that suit so badly then why don’t you just take it out of our children’s university fund, huh? Or how about from some of the mortgage payments?” She hissed, before turning on her heel and striding out the store, a wide-eyed Liam getting pulled along.
“Ah…should I put it aside for you, sir?”
o.O.o
The silence in the car was deafening and he could see though Ginny wouldn’t look at him that she was seething. The tense shoulders, the jerky movements. She was holding off the storm for as long as the children were sleeping in the backseat. Sighing to himself he wondered how it was that in any universe he had the skill to push all her buttons. And she his.
She didn’t always bring out the best in him, she made him too mad to but she’d always managed to get the truth, as ugly as it may be. He supposed this one was pretty ugly. He’d made her think her husband hated his life. And all right, he probably did, but that wasn’t this Draco’s job to say.
“Ginny…I…I’m sorry. About before. I didn’t really mean what I said.”
“Then why say it, Draco?”
“I just…” He had to be careful. The woman had a built-in lie detector so he couldn’t flat out spin a story. “I just sometimes wonder how we ended up here. It seems like yesterday when we got together.” In some ways.
Finally a small smile broke through, like a sunbeam through storm clouds.
“Really? I feel like that was so long ago.”
“No, trust me, it wasn’t. I mean getting together, and then moving into that tiny flat while you were studying and I was setting up my business…” That had to have been the same, right?
“I loved that flat,” she sighed.
“It was miniscule. It had mice.”
“It was cozy. And so close to everything.”
“Maybe we should have stayed…” He fished while keeping his eyes on the road.
“You know it wasn’t convenient once you started working for dad.”
He glanced at her and hoped he didn’t sound studiously innocent.
“Oh, right. Back when…”
“When he had his heart attack. It was great the way you, Harry and Ron all stepped up and took turns to run it. Who would’ve known you’d actually enjoy it?”
“Who knew!” He enjoyed it? He’d lost count how many things were wrong with the Draco Malfoy in this universe but this had to take the prize. He enjoyed peddling kettles to old ladies day after day? Refunding people because things “didn’t work” when they hadn’t plugged them in? He liked to sell chewing gum that “did nothing special at all”?
“Yeah, you came back after your first sale, a fire in your eyes to do it again. I think you said it was the wheedling and the dealing of it. Personally I think it’s the Slytherin in you – manipulating people until they think they can’t live without a magically enhanced blender.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Me? I’d never.” She smiled and looked out the window and he chuckled. That smile, the one she’d give him while she teased him, that had always been his favorite one on her.
“So you don’t think we’ve… I…failed? I promised you everything once.”
She turned back to him, put a hand on his knee.
“Draco, you have given me everything.” Ginny glanced back at the children sleeping in the back seat. “You used to have that thing, when you were younger, about how you wanted to be the person people envied. But you’ve forgotten that even though we don’t have a Land Rover or a villa in France, people still do. What we have is special.” She tilted her head and squeezed his knee. “Do you think what we have happens every day?”
o.O.o
Up until this day Draco Malfoy had not known what bowling meant. After finding out he had decided he would happily continue to live in ignorance. He supposed they referred to it as a sport in the way chess was a sport. It took little to no effort and most of the time you appeared to be sitting, drinking beer thus negating the point of the “exercise” in the first place. Rather than burning calories you appeared to be amassing them while listening to mind-numbing conversation a la suburban dads. So far they had covered someone’s new roof and how much that was going to cost, the pains of explaining fractions to your kids and the chances of some muggle sports team beating another in yet another muggle sport, called cricket. If it was anything like bowling Draco wished them the best of luck in their not so taxing trial.
Every so often conversation would circle back to wives and long-suffering sighs and a dragged out “women” in exasperated tones would bounce like balls between them.
First of all, Draco didn’t think any of the men appeared like a great catch and was leaning towards telling them all they should all crawl home and thank their wives on their bended knees for putting up with – and sadly he knew all of it from the meandering chitchat – halitosis, hammertoes, thinning hair, expanding waists and what appeared to him as a complete and utter lack of imagination and appeal. The damn women, however annoying they sounded, ought to be sainted.
That was the second point. He had considered Ginny the height of annoyance, like a hair on your tongue or an itchy label in your shirt but it appeared she played in the minor league of wifely irritations. She had yet to do anything the other men had described. And she didn’t wear jeans with elastic waistbands, which was apparently a plague on the female race around here.
“So, Dray, you’re pretty quiet tonight. No horror stories to share?”
Bob slung a companionable arm around his shoulders and Draco tried not to push it off. No point in insulting Alternative Draco’s best friend.
“You know he never does. He and Ginny are still like newlyweds, aren’t you? All lovey-dovey and cute.”
Everything in Draco objected to the term “lovey-dovey”. He had never, and would never, stoop low enough to have anyone refer to any of his actions as lovey-dovey.
“He still brings her flowers, you know.”
A good-natured chuckle, like he was a bit lacking in basic understanding, circled the table.
“A model husband, our Dray here is.”
Shrugging off Bob’s arm – and hopefully stopping the man’s body odor from spreading even further – Draco put his plastic cup down. As if it weren’t revolting enough to spend time in a place where you wore communal shoes he was also forced to drink lukewarm lager tasting of the keg from recyclables. They might as well install a tap at the table and let him drink by lying underneath it with his mouth open.
“I’m getting another beer.” Getting up he left the other men on his “team” sniggering like fifteen year old girls in a bathroom and steered for the bar. Avoiding leaning against it as he imagined he might actually get stuck to wood veneer he ordered and sighed. Was this Alternative Draco’s idea of a good time? Wearing polyester shirts and sweating along with seven other men while complaining about his insurance premiums, the price of petrol and petty insults from his wife?
“Hey, Dray.” A woman of around his age wearing clothes so tight they could have been painted on her spoke at a tone he would peg as an octave lower than her normal speaking voice as she leaned against the bar.
“Hi…” He had no idea who she was. If they’d ever met in this reality, he’d forgotten.
“Your game’s a bit off, have you been sick?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He accepted the beer from the bar man and took comfort from the fact that though the cup was plastic, it at least meant he didn’t have to touch a glass that had been “washed” on the premises.
“Poor you.” She put a hand on his arm and leaned closer, managing to press her rather impressive breasts against him in the process. “I’d be happy to bring something by to cheer you up.” Her eyes darted to his face from under lowered lashes. The way she said “something” sounded much like she’d show up naked and wrapped in cellophane at his door.
“I doubt Ginny would like that very much.”
Leaning back the woman pouted slightly.
“Maybe she doesn’t have to know.” For a moment he was tempted. She really was not his type, too obvious, too needy, too everything. But he was in a serious dry spell as he still hadn’t been able to overcome his moral objections of sleeping with Ginny while she didn’t know he wasn’t her husband. The woman next to him would offer a simple solution.
He caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his hand and sighed internally. Though he was not actually married to Ginny, and could have sex with this woman without qualms, Alternative Draco was. And if someone were to find out, as the woman next to him seemed less than discreet this appeared a likely turn of events then Alternative Draco and his marriage would suffer. And however much of a schmucky idiot Alternative Draco was he had to love his wife a lot to put up with the suicide inducing life they were leading. He couldn’t break that for a quick tryst with a needy bottle blonde.
“Thanks for the offer but I think I’ll get my cheering up from my wife.” He’d bet that’s what Alternative Draco would say too. Idiot.
“Sure. But one of these days, Dray. One of these days…”
She sauntered past with a smoldering look and he let out a quiet breath. In a moment of sympathy for the Neanderthals at the team table he muttered,
“Women!”
Bob, returning from the men’s room weaved through the crowd (why was there a crowd? There had to be better things to do than this. Anything, really) and joined him at the bar.
“Was that Josie Pearce striding off spurned again?”
Was that her name?
“I guess so.” He took a sip of his beer. The more he drank of it the less it seemed to taste like stale bread and still water.
“She’s tenacious, you’ve got to give her that. Don’t know how many times you’ve rejected her.”
“Really.” He tried to not make it into a question.
“Yeah, never gives up. I think it’s less about you now and more about winning over Ginny.”
“Winning over Ginny?”
“Come on, Dray. Ginny’s gorgeous, and she doesn’t try as hard as Josie. Every man from here to Cramond Road would give their right hand to be with Ginny. She’s funny, she’s smart, she’s well liked. I think Josie just wants to prove a point by getting you into bed.”
“You’re probably right.” He sipped his beer again. It almost tasted good this time. “So you’re telling me everyone in this town wants my wife?” It felt good, he realized. Good to know that though he was dirt-poor and his house was a glorified shed men still envied him something.
o.O.o
Feeling almost chipper after the revelation he was someone others wanted to be Draco entered his glorified shed. A tiny hall opened into an open plan kitchen, dining and living room, currently grating on Draco’s senses because it was dusty and cluttered. Liam’s indoor trike – Merlin help him, he knew what a trike was now – and Evie’s play gym as well as an assortment of toys spread from the children’s corner like a disease. On the coffee table newspapers and magazines were heaped and by the door a mountain of shoes acted as a trip hazard.
Feeling the somewhat cheery mood evaporate he stalked in, past Ginny who was once again wearing a huge woolly sweater, this time one of Alternative Draco’s. She’d ruin the structure of it. Wool sweaters were a serious business. He caught himself. The fourteen-pounds Gladrags garment was less than likely to have any structure. Let her try and ruin what he had already overrated in referring to it as a sweater. At least it looked quite appealing on her.
Shaking his head to clear that particular thought he checked the fridge for his cake. He’d left it as a treat knowing he’d need cheering up after socializing with his so called peers.
“Have you seen my…” Turning to face her he saw Ginny’s face was the picture of innocence as she delicately ate a bite of cake. He noted she was doing the house accounts and did briefly think to look those over anyone would need cake. Or something stronger. “…cake.”
“Do you mean this cake?” She spooned up some more.
“Yes, that cake. It’s mine, I was saving it.”
“Well, Draco you know what they say. You snooze you lose.”
“Give it back, I want it.”
“Nuh-uh. I only promised to love and cherish, not to share cake. It means too much to me.”
“Fine.” He threw up his hands. “Fine.” Feinting turning away he dove after her and with a laugh she was up, bringing the plate as she ran.
He just stood still. Was the woman absolutely raving mad? He closed the fridge door with a clank. He wanted that damn cake.
Setting off after her he heard her bubbling laugh and took a left, skidded on the rug and caught his balance. Ahead Ginny was running in place as she took a bite of the cake.
Regaining his balance she skipped off like a doe in headlights and he turned on his heel to cut her off in the hall.
Spotting her ahead she sent him a brilliant smile over her shoulder and to his surprise he felt laughter of his own spilling over his lips. It seemed to turn a key, open a door to the past. He remembered now, she’d always been able to make him laugh. She’d always been able to drive him up the wall as well, but she’d been the only person he’d ever known to make him laugh the way he was now.
“Oops, finished!” Ginny swung around, the plate in her hand now completely cake-less.
“Oh, come on!”
Skidding again when he stopped he all but crashed into her and bracing his hands on either side of her head he made the mistake of looking down to meet her eyes. They were sparkling with humor, a smile dancing on her lips. A small crumb of chocolate was stuck to her bottom lip.
“I’ll just have to taste it on you then.” Capturing her lips he felt her sigh against him and Ginny wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her lips moved against his, sweet and soft and his insides quaked. Alternative Draco was suddenly wiped from his mind, only the Draco that had been, the one who loved Ginny in his place. She was suddenly his Ginny again, not Alternative Draco’s wife, but his. A groan tore from him and deepening the kiss he felt her respond, push against him and wrap her legs around him. It was a gesture so familiar his dazed brain wondered for a moment if he had travelled back in time.
“Tell me, Draco. Tell me you love me.” Her breahts brushed over his ear and he stilled. Suddenly yanked into the present like he had been Portkeyed he stuttered,
“I…” A wail erupted upstairs and with a chuckle Ginny laid her head on his shoulder.
“Perfect timing as always. I’ll go check on her.”
“No, I’ll go. You go to bed.” And hopefully she’d be asleep by the time he was done sorting out whatever the littlest demon wanted.
In the kids’ room Liam was sleeping blissfully through what had to be on the same decibel level as a klaxon going off. Evie was screaming bloody murder from her cot and hoping the solution was simple he picked up the source of the noise. After a few surprised blinks the wails turned into hiccupping sobs before she quieted down.
“That was it, huh? Well, at least I can’t fault your timing. You’re a good team player.” He didn’t really want to think too much about the fact that he was carrying on a conversation with a baby whose understanding of vocabulary probably stretched to “cookie” and “doggy”. But she’d earned a little pat for saving him earlier.
Ginny was pushing a stroller with a sleeping Evie and holding an inexplicably excited Liam’s hand as she maneuvered the crowds. Unlike all other mothers he had seen in shopping center so far she was neither harried nor annoyed and red-faced. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Clearly she had some missing screws.
“So, Liam, should we go look at new shoes for you?”
“Will I get a cookie if I go?”
“Your father taught you that one.” Ginny sent him an amused glance and Draco grumbled,
“I most certainly did not.”
As if on cue Evie woke up with a delighted cry.
“COOKIE!” Bouncing excitedly the baby chanted “cookie, cookie, cookie” in a sing song voice and Ginny laughed.
“I guess that settles it. Shoes, then a cookie.”
Stopping in his tracks Draco was pulled, as if by an invisible force, into the store they were passing. The inside was cool and empty and drawing a sigh of relief he passed under the sign spelling “Emporio Armani”. In a small way he felt like he’d just come home. Steering directly for this season’s charcoal Draco barely heard Ginny speak behind him.
“That would look great on you.” He knew it would, the same one hung in his walk-in closet in his London flat.
“I’m going to get it.”
“You do that. While you drool over that I’ll take Liam to get those shoes.”
When she returned he was wearing the full suit, as well as a shirt and was instructing the salesman on the alterations needed. Ginny met his eyes in the mirror.
“It does look fantastic on you, Draco.”
“Your husband was made to wear Armani, Mrs…?”
“Malfoy. I’m sure he likes to think so.” She smiled at the attendant before sidling up to him, leaning closer. “Draco, this suit is two thousand pounds. You’re not actually thinking of buying it, are you?”
“I am. I earned this suit.” He turned in front of the mirror, admiring the familiar way the fabric fell. He had earned it, damn it. Waking up every day to the screaming of the little demons, dealing with baby crap, dog crap, nurseries and being a damn salesman. He needed one little thing to remind him this wasn’t actually his life.
“What’s gotten into you? You know we can’t afford this.”
“Why? Because you’ve decided to work non-profit? Because I’m in a dead-end, ridiculous job working for your father as a salesman? Why, Ginny? Why in the name of Merlin are we living like this?”
“I’m sorry you feel that your life is such a hardship, Draco.” She rolled her eyes. “Now will you take that off and come home? I’ll buy you a cookie.”
“I don’t want a damn cookie!” He exploded. “I want to have my old life back! I want to have things, I want to be somebody!”
Taken aback, Ginny took a step backwards as if to shield Liam and Evie.
“You are somebody! You’re my husband, though sometimes lately it doesn’t feel like it! You’re Liam’s and Evie’s father!”
The attendant fluttered his hands uselessly, clearly not sure if he should interfere or not.
“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do for me! I can’t believe you of all people would let me become this!”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Evie’s bottom lip began to tremble.
“Who are you? If you need that suit so badly then why don’t you just take it out of our children’s university fund, huh? Or how about from some of the mortgage payments?” She hissed, before turning on her heel and striding out the store, a wide-eyed Liam getting pulled along.
“Ah…should I put it aside for you, sir?”
o.O.o
The silence in the car was deafening and he could see though Ginny wouldn’t look at him that she was seething. The tense shoulders, the jerky movements. She was holding off the storm for as long as the children were sleeping in the backseat. Sighing to himself he wondered how it was that in any universe he had the skill to push all her buttons. And she his.
She didn’t always bring out the best in him, she made him too mad to but she’d always managed to get the truth, as ugly as it may be. He supposed this one was pretty ugly. He’d made her think her husband hated his life. And all right, he probably did, but that wasn’t this Draco’s job to say.
“Ginny…I…I’m sorry. About before. I didn’t really mean what I said.”
“Then why say it, Draco?”
“I just…” He had to be careful. The woman had a built-in lie detector so he couldn’t flat out spin a story. “I just sometimes wonder how we ended up here. It seems like yesterday when we got together.” In some ways.
Finally a small smile broke through, like a sunbeam through storm clouds.
“Really? I feel like that was so long ago.”
“No, trust me, it wasn’t. I mean getting together, and then moving into that tiny flat while you were studying and I was setting up my business…” That had to have been the same, right?
“I loved that flat,” she sighed.
“It was miniscule. It had mice.”
“It was cozy. And so close to everything.”
“Maybe we should have stayed…” He fished while keeping his eyes on the road.
“You know it wasn’t convenient once you started working for dad.”
He glanced at her and hoped he didn’t sound studiously innocent.
“Oh, right. Back when…”
“When he had his heart attack. It was great the way you, Harry and Ron all stepped up and took turns to run it. Who would’ve known you’d actually enjoy it?”
“Who knew!” He enjoyed it? He’d lost count how many things were wrong with the Draco Malfoy in this universe but this had to take the prize. He enjoyed peddling kettles to old ladies day after day? Refunding people because things “didn’t work” when they hadn’t plugged them in? He liked to sell chewing gum that “did nothing special at all”?
“Yeah, you came back after your first sale, a fire in your eyes to do it again. I think you said it was the wheedling and the dealing of it. Personally I think it’s the Slytherin in you – manipulating people until they think they can’t live without a magically enhanced blender.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Me? I’d never.” She smiled and looked out the window and he chuckled. That smile, the one she’d give him while she teased him, that had always been his favorite one on her.
“So you don’t think we’ve… I…failed? I promised you everything once.”
She turned back to him, put a hand on his knee.
“Draco, you have given me everything.” Ginny glanced back at the children sleeping in the back seat. “You used to have that thing, when you were younger, about how you wanted to be the person people envied. But you’ve forgotten that even though we don’t have a Land Rover or a villa in France, people still do. What we have is special.” She tilted her head and squeezed his knee. “Do you think what we have happens every day?”
o.O.o
Up until this day Draco Malfoy had not known what bowling meant. After finding out he had decided he would happily continue to live in ignorance. He supposed they referred to it as a sport in the way chess was a sport. It took little to no effort and most of the time you appeared to be sitting, drinking beer thus negating the point of the “exercise” in the first place. Rather than burning calories you appeared to be amassing them while listening to mind-numbing conversation a la suburban dads. So far they had covered someone’s new roof and how much that was going to cost, the pains of explaining fractions to your kids and the chances of some muggle sports team beating another in yet another muggle sport, called cricket. If it was anything like bowling Draco wished them the best of luck in their not so taxing trial.
Every so often conversation would circle back to wives and long-suffering sighs and a dragged out “women” in exasperated tones would bounce like balls between them.
First of all, Draco didn’t think any of the men appeared like a great catch and was leaning towards telling them all they should all crawl home and thank their wives on their bended knees for putting up with – and sadly he knew all of it from the meandering chitchat – halitosis, hammertoes, thinning hair, expanding waists and what appeared to him as a complete and utter lack of imagination and appeal. The damn women, however annoying they sounded, ought to be sainted.
That was the second point. He had considered Ginny the height of annoyance, like a hair on your tongue or an itchy label in your shirt but it appeared she played in the minor league of wifely irritations. She had yet to do anything the other men had described. And she didn’t wear jeans with elastic waistbands, which was apparently a plague on the female race around here.
“So, Dray, you’re pretty quiet tonight. No horror stories to share?”
Bob slung a companionable arm around his shoulders and Draco tried not to push it off. No point in insulting Alternative Draco’s best friend.
“You know he never does. He and Ginny are still like newlyweds, aren’t you? All lovey-dovey and cute.”
Everything in Draco objected to the term “lovey-dovey”. He had never, and would never, stoop low enough to have anyone refer to any of his actions as lovey-dovey.
“He still brings her flowers, you know.”
A good-natured chuckle, like he was a bit lacking in basic understanding, circled the table.
“A model husband, our Dray here is.”
Shrugging off Bob’s arm – and hopefully stopping the man’s body odor from spreading even further – Draco put his plastic cup down. As if it weren’t revolting enough to spend time in a place where you wore communal shoes he was also forced to drink lukewarm lager tasting of the keg from recyclables. They might as well install a tap at the table and let him drink by lying underneath it with his mouth open.
“I’m getting another beer.” Getting up he left the other men on his “team” sniggering like fifteen year old girls in a bathroom and steered for the bar. Avoiding leaning against it as he imagined he might actually get stuck to wood veneer he ordered and sighed. Was this Alternative Draco’s idea of a good time? Wearing polyester shirts and sweating along with seven other men while complaining about his insurance premiums, the price of petrol and petty insults from his wife?
“Hey, Dray.” A woman of around his age wearing clothes so tight they could have been painted on her spoke at a tone he would peg as an octave lower than her normal speaking voice as she leaned against the bar.
“Hi…” He had no idea who she was. If they’d ever met in this reality, he’d forgotten.
“Your game’s a bit off, have you been sick?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He accepted the beer from the bar man and took comfort from the fact that though the cup was plastic, it at least meant he didn’t have to touch a glass that had been “washed” on the premises.
“Poor you.” She put a hand on his arm and leaned closer, managing to press her rather impressive breasts against him in the process. “I’d be happy to bring something by to cheer you up.” Her eyes darted to his face from under lowered lashes. The way she said “something” sounded much like she’d show up naked and wrapped in cellophane at his door.
“I doubt Ginny would like that very much.”
Leaning back the woman pouted slightly.
“Maybe she doesn’t have to know.” For a moment he was tempted. She really was not his type, too obvious, too needy, too everything. But he was in a serious dry spell as he still hadn’t been able to overcome his moral objections of sleeping with Ginny while she didn’t know he wasn’t her husband. The woman next to him would offer a simple solution.
He caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his hand and sighed internally. Though he was not actually married to Ginny, and could have sex with this woman without qualms, Alternative Draco was. And if someone were to find out, as the woman next to him seemed less than discreet this appeared a likely turn of events then Alternative Draco and his marriage would suffer. And however much of a schmucky idiot Alternative Draco was he had to love his wife a lot to put up with the suicide inducing life they were leading. He couldn’t break that for a quick tryst with a needy bottle blonde.
“Thanks for the offer but I think I’ll get my cheering up from my wife.” He’d bet that’s what Alternative Draco would say too. Idiot.
“Sure. But one of these days, Dray. One of these days…”
She sauntered past with a smoldering look and he let out a quiet breath. In a moment of sympathy for the Neanderthals at the team table he muttered,
“Women!”
Bob, returning from the men’s room weaved through the crowd (why was there a crowd? There had to be better things to do than this. Anything, really) and joined him at the bar.
“Was that Josie Pearce striding off spurned again?”
Was that her name?
“I guess so.” He took a sip of his beer. The more he drank of it the less it seemed to taste like stale bread and still water.
“She’s tenacious, you’ve got to give her that. Don’t know how many times you’ve rejected her.”
“Really.” He tried to not make it into a question.
“Yeah, never gives up. I think it’s less about you now and more about winning over Ginny.”
“Winning over Ginny?”
“Come on, Dray. Ginny’s gorgeous, and she doesn’t try as hard as Josie. Every man from here to Cramond Road would give their right hand to be with Ginny. She’s funny, she’s smart, she’s well liked. I think Josie just wants to prove a point by getting you into bed.”
“You’re probably right.” He sipped his beer again. It almost tasted good this time. “So you’re telling me everyone in this town wants my wife?” It felt good, he realized. Good to know that though he was dirt-poor and his house was a glorified shed men still envied him something.
o.O.o
Feeling almost chipper after the revelation he was someone others wanted to be Draco entered his glorified shed. A tiny hall opened into an open plan kitchen, dining and living room, currently grating on Draco’s senses because it was dusty and cluttered. Liam’s indoor trike – Merlin help him, he knew what a trike was now – and Evie’s play gym as well as an assortment of toys spread from the children’s corner like a disease. On the coffee table newspapers and magazines were heaped and by the door a mountain of shoes acted as a trip hazard.
Feeling the somewhat cheery mood evaporate he stalked in, past Ginny who was once again wearing a huge woolly sweater, this time one of Alternative Draco’s. She’d ruin the structure of it. Wool sweaters were a serious business. He caught himself. The fourteen-pounds Gladrags garment was less than likely to have any structure. Let her try and ruin what he had already overrated in referring to it as a sweater. At least it looked quite appealing on her.
Shaking his head to clear that particular thought he checked the fridge for his cake. He’d left it as a treat knowing he’d need cheering up after socializing with his so called peers.
“Have you seen my…” Turning to face her he saw Ginny’s face was the picture of innocence as she delicately ate a bite of cake. He noted she was doing the house accounts and did briefly think to look those over anyone would need cake. Or something stronger. “…cake.”
“Do you mean this cake?” She spooned up some more.
“Yes, that cake. It’s mine, I was saving it.”
“Well, Draco you know what they say. You snooze you lose.”
“Give it back, I want it.”
“Nuh-uh. I only promised to love and cherish, not to share cake. It means too much to me.”
“Fine.” He threw up his hands. “Fine.” Feinting turning away he dove after her and with a laugh she was up, bringing the plate as she ran.
He just stood still. Was the woman absolutely raving mad? He closed the fridge door with a clank. He wanted that damn cake.
Setting off after her he heard her bubbling laugh and took a left, skidded on the rug and caught his balance. Ahead Ginny was running in place as she took a bite of the cake.
Regaining his balance she skipped off like a doe in headlights and he turned on his heel to cut her off in the hall.
Spotting her ahead she sent him a brilliant smile over her shoulder and to his surprise he felt laughter of his own spilling over his lips. It seemed to turn a key, open a door to the past. He remembered now, she’d always been able to make him laugh. She’d always been able to drive him up the wall as well, but she’d been the only person he’d ever known to make him laugh the way he was now.
“Oops, finished!” Ginny swung around, the plate in her hand now completely cake-less.
“Oh, come on!”
Skidding again when he stopped he all but crashed into her and bracing his hands on either side of her head he made the mistake of looking down to meet her eyes. They were sparkling with humor, a smile dancing on her lips. A small crumb of chocolate was stuck to her bottom lip.
“I’ll just have to taste it on you then.” Capturing her lips he felt her sigh against him and Ginny wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her lips moved against his, sweet and soft and his insides quaked. Alternative Draco was suddenly wiped from his mind, only the Draco that had been, the one who loved Ginny in his place. She was suddenly his Ginny again, not Alternative Draco’s wife, but his. A groan tore from him and deepening the kiss he felt her respond, push against him and wrap her legs around him. It was a gesture so familiar his dazed brain wondered for a moment if he had travelled back in time.
“Tell me, Draco. Tell me you love me.” Her breahts brushed over his ear and he stilled. Suddenly yanked into the present like he had been Portkeyed he stuttered,
“I…” A wail erupted upstairs and with a chuckle Ginny laid her head on his shoulder.
“Perfect timing as always. I’ll go check on her.”
“No, I’ll go. You go to bed.” And hopefully she’d be asleep by the time he was done sorting out whatever the littlest demon wanted.
In the kids’ room Liam was sleeping blissfully through what had to be on the same decibel level as a klaxon going off. Evie was screaming bloody murder from her cot and hoping the solution was simple he picked up the source of the noise. After a few surprised blinks the wails turned into hiccupping sobs before she quieted down.
“That was it, huh? Well, at least I can’t fault your timing. You’re a good team player.” He didn’t really want to think too much about the fact that he was carrying on a conversation with a baby whose understanding of vocabulary probably stretched to “cookie” and “doggy”. But she’d earned a little pat for saving him earlier.
Author notes: So pleased to hear you like it!
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