~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

While the idea of finally seeing Ginny had initially filled Draco with excitement, those feelings dissipated as soon as he apparated to the Burrow. The sun was beginning to set, casting an unearthly glow on the rickety house before him. On one side of the yard, the chickens took no mind of him. On the other side, two deer walked near the edge of the trees.

Draco took a deep breath, hoping his stomach would stop twisting, and began towards the Burrow. He wanted to stuff his hands in his pockets, to appear casual and cool, but he couldn’t stop tapping his fingers against his leg in nervousness. And he was here as an uninvited guest, not the head of the house. If he showed up trying to look anything that wasn’t himself in a house where the majority of the occupants still despised him, he’d likely be mocked.

And what if Ginny wasn’t happy to see him? He was basically inviting himself to her family event in the hopes that she’d be pleased. But their last meeting had been so awful that Draco wouldn’t be surprised if she was still upset. It was his fault he left her with Teddy that day, it was his fault that he had been frustrated she hadn’t felt safe at the manor without him there and that he opted to not tell her that, it was his fault that he hadn’t taken note of her feelings until it was too late.

This was all his fault.

It was also Blaise’s, gossiping bastard, but he couldn’t lay it too heavily on his friend—

“Draco!” a voice called, cutting into his thoughts, at the same time another voice said, “Malfoy! What a surprise.”

Draco turned slowly to see Angelina Johnson and the twin, George, walking towards him. They had apparated in the same spot he had. Thankfully, he had moved forward a bit before nerves got the best of
him. Angelina looked absolutely delighted to see him, running up to him and throwing her arm around his shoulders.

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight! Dinner wasn’t half as fun without you there last week,” she told him, the sincerity in her words forcing a small smile from him.

“Yeah, everything seemed much dimmer at the table,” the twin agreed. “I thought it had something to do with the fact that your fluorescent skin wasn’t there to blind everyone but Angelina disagreed.”

“You look very nice,” Angelina noted, looking him up and down. “Trying to impress us?”

He cleared his throat, hating that both George and Angelina were staring at him in amusement. Draco had made a point to not dress up, in fear of looking embellished. Instead he opted for a simple white button up, sleeves rolled up, with a pair of clean slacks—if this was him looking agreeable, he couldn’t imagine their reactions when he actually dressed to impress.
Both Angelina and George’s eyes lingered on the faded mark on his forearm but they didn’t comment.

Draco had contemplated hiding it (his diminished Dark Mark that still caused him trouble) from view for this dinner was hardly the time to remind the Weasley family that he had once served the Dark Lord, but something urged him to bare it. If he was going to do this, if he was going to talk to Ginny and see if she really… if there was something there, he needed her to realize everything that came with him. If her family didn’t care for it, then she needed to see that too and make a decision.

“I wasn’t trying to impress either of you,” Draco drawled.

The twin’s eyebrows rose quickly.

“Is that so?” he asked, his teeth bared in a grin as sharp as razors. “Trying to get a reaction from ickle Ronniekins? He’ll be most flattered, I’m sure, but I’m not certain you’re his type.”

Angelina stepped away from Draco and the trio began up the dirt trail to the Burrow. George continued speaking, earning a laugh from Angelina.

“He prefers someone with brains. No offense, Malfoy, but you seem rather dimwitted to willingly come to dinner with our family for a second time in less than a year. Brave, yeah, but dimwitted.”

“He is not stupid!” Angelina protested, skipping up the steps. “Your mum is the one who invited him. I think even Ginny was surprised by that.”

At the mention of Ginny, Draco’s heart twisted. He ran a hand through his hair to distract himself. The twin opened the door, waving his hand dramatically to allow Angelina and Draco entry.

“I come to your dinners all the time,” she pointed out.

“Yeah but your father isn’t an evil git that my family despises and you weren’t a prat in school,” George told her. “And it doesn’t matter if mum invited him, she invites everyone to dinner.”

Draco frowned.

“My mum loves collecting lonely, lost boys to nurture,” the twin informed Draco as he stepped inside.

“That sounded… oddly perverted,” Draco muttered.

George’s face twisted as he thought over what he said.

“What was that?”

The familiar voice of Molly Weasley interrupted George’s thought process. Still pulling a face, George headed to the kitchen.

“Nothing, mum! You’ll never guess who’s arrived!”

“Who’s that? Harry?”

Draco fought both a groan and the temptation to turn on his heel and leave at George’s obnoxious laughter. Instead he swallowed his panic and followed George and Angelina into the kitchen. At the stove, Molly accepted a kiss on the cheek from her son as she stirred something that smelled absolutely delicious in a pot. When Angelina greeted the hen of the house Molly turned, a smile already brightening her aged face.

“Angelina, dear, you look lovely. And—oh! Draco! I hadn’t expected you!”

Molly walked up to Draco, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached before reaching out and grabbing onto his forearm lightly. She was so tiny compared to him but he felt rather small and timid in front of the woman. Her smile didn’t waver when she had turned her attention from Angelina to Draco, comforting him in some odd way, as though she was truly as pleased to see him as she had been Angelina. Then Molly was leading him further into the kitchen.

“Sit, dear, sit. Are you thirsty? Where’s Teddy? Angelina, George, sit, will you?”

She was like a tornado, moving constantly as she forced Angelina into a seat beside Draco before grabbing a pitcher from the counter and bringing it over. Draco eyed it. Unsurprisingly, he saw a crack down the center of it, confirming his suspicion that it was the jug that had shattered the last time he had been at the Burrow. George met his eyes, tossing a quick wink his way, and Draco knew he had noticed the same thing.

Molly waved her wand, bringing glasses from the cabinets, before taking the seat on the other side of Draco.

“Teddy, dear, where is he?” she asked again.

Draco cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes, he’s with some of my friends.”

“Friends?” George repeated, snorting. “What friends do you have?”

Angelina reached over to punch George’s thigh hard, for he stood within reach of her.

“Stop that, George. I’m sure Draco has plenty of… trustworthy friends. They are able to handle a child, aren’t they, Draco?” Molly inquired, concern lacing her words.

Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint? Draco wasn’t sure how much experience they had with children but he knew that, if anything happened, they’d protect the boy as much as he would. That’s all he could ask for, he supposed. A slight nod from Draco eased Molly’s worry and she stood from her seat, bustling over to the stove to check whatever was cooking.

“I’m sure Harry would’ve liked to see him tonight. I thought Harry said he might be able to make dinner for once after work,” Molly informed him. “Oh, look, Draco dear, Ginny came back from the pond.”

Every muscle in Draco’s body froze. The air in his lungs burned as it waited for release. Ginny was here. Dealing with the twin and Molly seemed like nothing compared to the thought of finally seeing Ginny face to face after so long. And, suddenly, Draco didn’t want to see her at all. He wanted to leave. Was it too cowardly to get up and run from the table without another word?

But then Molly turned around, still talking, her voice making itself heard.

“When you go outside will you ask Ginny where she put the basket of apples I had asked for? She might’ve left it by the orchard when she took Rose and Victoire down to the pond. I’d like to wash them before dinner begins. Can you ask her for it, Draco? There’s a dear.”

He didn’t realize he was standing and walking towards the back door until Molly began conversation with George and Angelina. The doorknob was cool in the palm of his sweaty hand, offering him temporary relief, and, with a deep breath, he turned it and walked outside. A warm summer breeze greeted him, one he hadn’t noticed when he was panicking in the front yard of the Burrow. It ruffled his hair slightly and he automatically reached up to make sure no strands were out of place.

But then Draco spotted Ginny and all thoughts left him once again. She was approaching from the direction of the pond, as Molly had told him, and even from here he could see that her red locks were loose and damp, spilling in a wild mess down her back. But her hair was bright against the short, white dress she wore. Victoire and Rose were by her side, chatting excitedly up to her. None of them noticed Draco standing on the porch for they were still far off and he was thankful for that.

It gave him a moment to collect himself. Heart in his throat, he took a deep breath to try to put it back in its proper place with no success. All he had to do was take one step, then another, and soon he’d be in front of Ginny and they could talk and everything would be okay—

“What are you staring at, Malfoy?”

Draco looked to the right to find Ginny’s moron of a brother and Granger seated in rocking chairs, studying him. Or, rather, Weasley was glaring at him and Granger was staring at him smugly. She struggled out of her seat, her belly weighing her down, but managed it after Weasley assisted her with a gentle push of his hand.

“Really, Malfoy, what’s left you with that dumb expression on your face—”

“Ron, stop it, will you?”

“You aren’t going to hug him, Hermione, are you? Why are you even here, Malfoy?” Weasley continued, though he thankfully stayed in his seat.

“Probably because he was invited,” Granger answered, tossing a frown at her husband over her shoulder.

Then she looked back at Draco and shot a curious smile at him.

“I must admit I’m surprised to see you,” she said softly once she was close enough. “Though I had assumed correctly, of course…”

Draco nodded shortly, hoping she wouldn’t say anything that would cause trouble with the idiot sitting so close by. He already felt anxious enough, here without Ginny’s permission, and wasn’t sure he could handle a verbal berating from Weasley. But Granger continued looking at him, her hands on her stomach.

“Rose has been asking after you also. She’ll be glad you’re here.”

“Oi, Hermione, stop saying that. She hasn’t been asking for him. Rosie’s been asking for her uncle—”

“Uncle Draco,” Granger interrupted, turning to talk to Weasley.

“—she could mean any uncle, not Malfoy here. Bloody ferret, brain washing my daughter. Malfoy, just so you’re aware, you’re not allowed anywhere near this baby.” He pointed to Granger’s swollen belly. “I don’t need you messing with this one’s head too.”

“Noted,” Draco said, biting back a familiar smirk at Weasley’s frustration.

“Ron, you’re being ridiculous.”

Granger went to walk back towards her husband but Draco grabbed her arm, stopping her. She looked back at him, eyes wide at his unexpected touch. Clearing his throat, he tried to force what he wanted to say out of his throat. It took an awkward moment before the words finally escaped him.

“Thank you, for… this. I wasn’t sure what to do,” he admitted quietly, so Weasley couldn’t hear.

She frowned at him before giving a slow nod.

“I assumed as much. Don’t ruin this,” she warned before continuing back to her husband.

Draco watched her sit before looking back towards the yard. He realized then that he had been spotted by the trio before him. Rose, with her hair pulled into two high buns, was giggling in excitement as she raced towards the house, her cheers of Uncle Dra-co, Uncle Dra-co becoming louder and louder. Victoire, Bill’s daughter who he hadn’t much contact with at the last meal, was grasping Ginny’s hand, pointing to the porch and clearly asking questions.

And Ginny… she was staring at him in disbelief, her eyes wide and her movements slow. He wished desperately that he could read her thoughts, because her expression gave no indication to whether she was pleased to see him or not.

Letting out a slow breath, Draco descended the back steps and started towards them. Rose met him quickly, her arms reaching up for him. He picked her up with little reluctance, swinging the girl onto his hip. He found it easier to meet her startling blue eyes than to continue looking at Ginny so he turned his attention to her.

“Hi,” the little girl whispered breathlessly. “You’re eating dinner with us!”

“I am.”

“Will you, will you sit next to me?”

“If your father allows it, I suppose,” he responded.

Rose’s hair, despite being pulled up, was damp also.

“Did you go swimming?”

“With Aunt Gin,” she said, pointing behind her as though he wasn’t sure who Aunt Gin was. “Do you wanna go?”

“Dinner is soon, I think.” His voice shook slightly when he saw that Ginny had stopped walking, for she was now close enough that if he reached out he could touch her. “Go see your mother and father, okay?”

Draco put Rose down and was surprised that she didn’t cling to him like she had the other week at Teddy’s little league game. Victoire walked by him, her gaze suspicious, but said nothing. It left him alone with Ginny, past the garden but still in sight of her brother and sister-in-law on the porch. He didn’t want to say anything here, close enough to be heard by the others. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say either way.

Because the relief at seeing Ginny before him was choking him. She looked distractingly pretty, more freckles decorating her skin than the last time they had been together. The white of her dress only emphasized her tan, her ginger hair, her bright eyes. Draco realized his gaze was lingering on her pink lips and he forced himself to meet her eyes, though the coward in him didn’t want to.

Had he always felt this overwhelming relief at the sight of Ginny? Perhaps it was because, though there were slight differences to her appearance, she was overall the same. She was the same woman who he fought with when he first joined the Tornados, the same girl who agreed to room with him at training camp when no one else would, the very same Weasley who shared jokes with him in the locker room and became his friend because she couldn’t deny how well they got along. And each time one of those surprising events happened Draco had been startled by the relief that washed over him at the sight of her.

She had never made anything easy for him but Ginny had always bore the weight of his hardships with him, whether she wanted to or not.

And now, standing before her and feeling that familiar relief come over him, he wondered why he hadn’t realized the great potential between them before, if he only got over his fear of ruining everything. His hand twitched at his side as he fought the urge to brush some of the wet curls from her face. Draco noticed her eyes dart down to his hand before returning to meet his stare.

“Draco?” Ginny finally addressed him.

The way his name fell from her lips, curious and unsure, sent his heart racing.

“What are you doing here?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets to stop himself from grabbing onto her wrist to tug her closer, an action that reminded him of her. How many times had she done that?

“You invited me,” Draco told her.

She frowned.

“No, I didn’t,” Ginny said, not unkindly.

“After the dinner two weeks ago?”

Shaking her head, Ginny looked about ready to laugh, whether in frustration or uncertainty, Draco wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her the truth, that Granger had told Blaise that Draco should come to the dinner. He honestly wasn’t sure the appropriate way to go about it. And if Ginny was upset at his unexpected arrival… Draco for once didn’t want to get Granger in trouble.

“I assumed I had a standing invitation,” Draco continued, trying to smirk despite the wobble in his voice.

“I see,” she said softly, brushing away the curl from her face that Draco had been eyeing earlier.

Then Ginny let out a long breath that made her look silly, her cheeks puffing out slightly. Some of the tension seemed to leave her and a small grin curled on her lips as she looked him over. Her eyes caught sight of the faded Dark Mark on his arm and then she looked up at him, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Draco knew she had seen it before, likely in the locker room while they changed, but he never studied her reaction.

And there wasn’t enough of a reaction for him to make a conclusion. Other than her eyebrows twitching, she seemed unconcerned with it.

“Your mother wanted me to remind you about the basket of apples,” he said to break the silence.

“Oh, shit, I forgot them,” Ginny cursed. Then she laughed, “Want to walk to the orchards with me?”

His face felt like it split in half from the size of his smile and he fought to contain it before giving up. What happened to cool and collected?

“Yes, I suppose,” he responded.

“Draco? Wasn’t expecting you to return after the other week.”

Draco blinked, broken from the spell that was Ginny, and turned to see that Bill and his wife, the champion from Beauxbatons, were approaching. They must’ve been at the pond with Ginny, except walking back at a slower pace. In the wife’s arms was Louis, the toddler who had fallen asleep in his highchair at the last dinner.

Bill clapped Draco on the shoulder and spun him for his wife to see.

“Fleur, this Draco. Draco, Fleur. I had been telling you about him.”

“Ah, yes, ze Malfoy.”

Fleur smiled beautifully in greeting despite the caution that stained her face.

“We’re going to the orchards, I forgot the apples,” Ginny cut in, before anymore conversation could continue.

“Dinner will be ready soon, Gin,” Bill warned as he continued towards the house.

Ginny nodded without interest and walked away. Draco followed. After a minute of silence, she turned around and walked backwards, as if she wanted to keep a proper eye on him. He licked his dry lips and wondered what to say. Once again, Ginny beat him to it.

“I hadn’t thought you’d want to come back and do dinner with us.”

The blunt statement caught him off guard. For once, the truth left his lips with little hesitation.

“You’d thought I wouldn’t want to see you? After not hearing anything from you for over a week?”

She stumbled slightly in her step, clearly surprised by his response. A lovely, warm blush worked its way up her neck, coloring her skin.

He sighed, hating this awkwardness between them. Draco and Ginny had been numerous things over the many years they had known each other but awkward with each other they had not been. Deep down, Draco knew he had to be the one to start this, to say the words he dreaded.

It was his pride that held him back from so much; asking for help, apologizing, admitting defeat. He supposed it shouldn’t surprise him that Ginny was the one who tested all these faults of his.

“I hadn’t meant to react so… poorly that night,” Draco admitted. “I didn’t invite you over to watch Teddy. I had invited you over because—”

He lowered his eyes and shook his head. Because what? Despite telling himself he wouldn’t see her for a long while, so he could manage his feelings and thoughts better, he had become half desperate for her to be with him? That bloody Pansy had asked him why he wasn’t dating Ginny Weasley and he couldn’t come up with a good answer? Because he had dreamt of her the night before he invited her to the manor and then every night after she had left? And, worse yet, they hadn’t all been sex dreams; he had dreamt of her laughter, of her flying beside him, of her snatching the Daily Prophet from his hands in the morning. Draco wasn’t sure what was worse for their friendship; the sex dreams or the normal ones.

It was harder than he wanted it to be to talk to her about this. Despite the thoughts having been constant in his mind the past week and a half, ever since she left, they struggled to form now.

“Why haven’t you responded to my owls?”

Draco looked up as he spoke and blanched. He reacted as quickly as he could, reaching out to grab Ginny and stop her. But he was too late. Ginny, who had still been walking backwards, hadn’t noticed the low hanging tree branch behind her. She walked into it with no warning, except his hand reaching out to stop her. Small, white flowers that had decorated the branches showered down on her, akin to snow. As Ginny sputtered angrily, pushing her hair from her face, Draco couldn’t help but tilt his head in appreciation.

Ah, of course, now she looked even lovelier, with white pedals caught in her bright hair.

Ginny hopped away from the tree, pulling her strands of hair that got caught in some of the smaller branches out, before glancing up at Draco. Her face was bright red, comparing almost to her idiot brother’s whenever Draco got a rise out of him.

“Such a mess, Weasley,” he murmured, pulling one of the flowers from her locks.

She stared at him in surprise and he faltered, wondering if she had heard the note of affection in his voice.

“I tried to warn you.” He waved at the tree awkwardly. “I was distracted.”

“Me too,” she answered slowly. “Look, Draco, I—I should’ve read your owls. And I shouldn’t have left so angry that day. I just, I needed, ugh, I needed a little break.”

What? A break? From him?

“Why?”

The one word came out harsher than he wanted but if she noticed she didn’t care.

“I was clearly getting in your way,” Ginny muttered, starting to walk again, facing the proper way this time.

Draco caught up with her in three long strides. He needed to see her face. If this was it, if she told him different than he hoped, he needed to see her expressions to know it was true.

“In my way?” Draco repeated. “Ginny, you’re always in my way. It’s what I like about you.”

Ginny stopped in her tracks, staring at him.

“Your date with Greengrass…” she trailed off, her eyebrows lifting high.

It was clear that she was waiting for him to finish her sentence. If Draco listened hard enough, he’d notice that she had stopped breathing, opting to hold her breath instead. But he was too lost in his own thoughts, too lost in the sweeping relief that came to him at her words.

“I’m not dating her. I haven’t been for ages.”

She released her breath in a rush and a sudden realization came to Draco; she was as relieved as him to be together. A sudden spark of confidence made his blood tingle and a smile came to his lips easily as they continued walking.

)*(*)*(

Something had changed between them as soon as Draco confirmed that he wasn’t dating Greengrass. It was abrupt and startling and so very welcome but, in some strange, twisted way, it was also terrifying. They continued on their way to the orchards, this time with Draco beside Ginny, but they didn’t speak.

He wasn’t dating Astoria. He had told her, just now, that he hadn’t invited her over that day to watch Teddy. She wanted to ask him more about it, to find out why he left, but it didn’t seem the right time. Because there was something dark in his eyes as they walked in silence, something heavy and curious and familiar. His eyes were the darker shade of gray they’d get whenever that odd look would color his face, the look that Ginny couldn’t read.

The look promised her something delicious if she allowed.

The trees of the orchard presented the pair with many apples. Knowing that her basket was full at the base of one of the trees, Ginny ignored the offerings and walked through the field. Draco had stepped behind her, his pace slowing, but Ginny hardly worried. Maybe without him right next to her she’d be able to think properly again.

He was here. Draco had come to dinner with her family because, if she read between the lines, he had wanted to see her. Sure, her mum had invited Draco to dinner last week but Ginny had never told him that. Somehow he had found out about the extended invitation and Ginny had a feeling she knew how.

But it hardly mattered. Draco was here and he had only minutes ago casually told her that he had no relationship with Astoria. He wasn’t angry at her for not responding to his owls. He had apologized.

The realization of it left her hands shaking.

What did it mean? What did this all mean?

If she was being honest with herself, Ginny knew what it meant. She knew what the burn of his eyes meant. She knew what his sudden honesty meant. She knew that the baring of his Dark Mark meant more than he let on.

But she needed to hear it from him.

The basket appeared before her and she slowed her walk, taking several deep breaths. With a wave of her wand, the basket lifted off the ground and hovered in the air. Satisfied with her work, Ginny turned to see Draco strolling lazily towards her. And the question burst from her with little regard.

“What are you playing at, Malfoy?”

The words weren’t tainted with anger like she had wanted them to be. Instead, underneath her question, lay curiosity. She needed to know. Ginny needed to know what was going through that thick skull of his before the hope that was blooming within her took over, entrapping her in this state. She couldn’t handle disappointment, not again, not when she had convinced herself the past week that she had been wrong about what she was so sure she was right about.

It wasn’t clear to her if Draco picked up on the true emotion in her question for he was concentrating on choosing the perfect apple off a tree. Ginny watched him silently, her lips twitching into a slight frown as his long fingers went from one apple to another. Every time his fingers grazed the red skin of the fruit, the apple would bob slightly, dancing along with him. Then, suddenly, he wrapped his hand around one and plucked it from its’ home.

Draco turned to her coolly, a single eyebrow risen.

“What do you mean?”

Ginny licked her dry lips, eyes following his movements as she tried to find the right words. But she was captivated watching him walk through the orchard that she used to play in as a child. The fading sunlight brightened the grounds. When the light fell on Draco it simply highlighted his elegant features. Her eyes followed the apple as he lifted it and took a bite. Then she met his gaze and saw he had been watching her too.

A small smirk curled on his lips as he chewed.

“Coming here,” she whispered. “If you wanted to see me, there were other ways.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

“Who said I came here to see only you?” he questioned, but there was something teasing to his tone. “I rather enjoy Ron’s company.”

That had to be the first time he had ever said Ron’s name. She stepped back, arm brushing the floating basket. It drifted further to the side, spinning away from them.

“Or, perhaps, I wanted to make a bold statement,” Draco told her.

“Why?” she asked softly.

His smirk grew and he shrugged, taking another bite. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, as if he too needed a moment to think over what he wanted to say. But Ginny had a feeling he was taking a moment on purpose, drawing out her hope, her anxiety—was she wrong? Did he not care? Was she reading too much into this situation as she had done last week? Or… or did he like her? Had the look he’d been giving her during their walk meant what she wanted it to mean?

Warmth curled below her stomach as the thoughts raced through her mind. It didn’t help that he was walking towards her like a lion would its prey; tortuously slow, with a piercing stare. But she rather liked it, despite the dismay that hit her. Leaning back against one of the trees, Ginny tried to keep her breathing steady but it proved difficult. Her heartbeat was picking up the closer he got. Goosebumps were rising on her skin despite the heat as she watched the juice from the fruit wet his lips. The desire to be touched, by him, grew as his eyes darkened.

“I figured you’d know by now,” he murmured.

He was close enough now that she could grab him if she wanted to. But her hands remained pressed against the bark. Ginny needed him to confirm her suspicions for her. After all this time of thinking he would never return her feelings, of ignoring what her body ached to do in the hope that she wouldn’t destroy what they had built, she needed Draco to let her know this was what he wanted too. Because if he was toying with her, playing off her emotions in some sick game, she would make him regret it.

But, when Draco stepped close enough that his warm breath fanned her face, Ginny understood for certain. This was no game to him. It didn’t make sense, not completely, but they were on the same page. Her hands tightened on the tree as he loomed over her.

Somehow, finally, they were on the same page. And she didn’t even care to find out how they both got there, not right now.

“Know what?” she breathed.

The words had barely left her mouth before she heard the soft thud of the apple as he dropped it. His fingers were sticky as he wrapped them in her hair but she didn’t notice, her attention focused on grabbing his shirt to tug him closer. There was only a brief second of hesitation and it was then that heat flooded Ginny. She wasn’t sure if it was from their close proximity, closer than they had ever been before, or if it was from the realization that they were actually going to kiss if she only tilted her chin up but it was overwhelming and exciting nonetheless.

Then his lips met hers, warm and sweet and slightly sticky. Draco tasted familiar, sugary like the apples from her grove that she had enjoyed since she could remember, and it made her blood race. Ginny sighed against his lips, tugging him closer.

Draco’s body was flush against her own, solid and real. If she couldn’t feel the quick rise and fall of his chest against her own, she would certainly think this was a dream. But her senses were on overload, desperate to note every touch, every feeling, and she knew—this was real. This was happening.

It was Draco who pulled away first and she opened her eyes in surprise.

“Ginny,” he exhaled, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. “We’re okay with this, right?”

She nodded her head quickly.

“Yeah, yes, we are.”

Then she pulled him back towards her. Her body hummed, heat washing over her, drowning her, burning her, as their lips touched again. It was as dizzying as the first time she had flown a proper broom, the ground far below, dangerously far. If she fell now, she’d surely perish. So, as she did the first time she flew, Ginny clung to the only anchor she had.

Her hips rocked against Draco when his hands finally left her hair to explore. His touch was light but promised more, so much more. One of his hands pressed her closer to him, his touch scorching through her dress, while his other hand dipped low, stroking the firm muscle of her thigh, gripping it tightly before releasing it. When she moaned, the sound crawling up her throat, Draco took it as praise. Without releasing her lips, he hooked his hand under her thigh and lifted her up.

The bark of the tree scratched her back but Ginny couldn’t care as she wrapped her legs around his waist; the surprise of the heat pooling in her core, begging to be touched, aching for more, distracted her from any pain. Draco’s lips left hers and despite the hot summer air, the light of the sun still coloring the ground, she felt cold. How odd. Ginny had always thought touching Draco, kissing him, would fill her with a delightful chill—like whenever she took a sip of cold water on a hot day and felt relief or when she’d jump in the pond, no matter the season, and her skin would prickle and her body would tense before relaxing—but no, no, it wasn’t like that at all.

He was fire disguised as ice, if that was at all possible. Draco left her wanting, half panting, ready to beg for him to come back. Beneath her fingers, his heart raced, alerting her that she wasn’t the only one affected by the kiss. The comprehension calmed her, made it easier for her to smile at him when all she wanted to do was order him closer.

His eyes were stormy as they looked her over.

“Your mother’s calling us.”

The smile dropped off her face.

“What?”

“Your mother,” Draco inclined his head in the direction of the house. “You didn’t hear her?”

He sounded overly amused and more than a tad smug about this fact. Was he lying? But—oh, no, she could hear her mum’s voice in the distance, yelling that it was time for dinner. Ginny almost groaned. Of course, it was time for dinner. She shifted, momentarily forgetting how she was positioned against the tree.

But Draco’s low grunt reminded her. Settled in between her thighs, Ginny could easily distinguish how hard he was—everything about him, certainly, but one particular thing that she really should’ve noticed before. Perhaps the fact that his touch had been melting gave her an excuse to not notice Draco’s obvious enjoyment of their caresses.

Without her needing to tell him, he lowered her to the ground. Her legs felt wobbly and the ground below her seemed unsteady. As suddenly as Draco had been all around her, Ginny now felt rather alone. But, after brushing out any wrinkles on her dress, she looked up and saw him watching her. There was a question in his eyes that hadn’t been there before and she wondered how to properly answer it.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

At her words, the question in his eyes disappeared. Ginny knew he wanted to ask more, saw him opening his mouth hesitantly, but a shout nearby stopped him. They looked to the side to see Percy stomping down the hill.

“Ginny! Did you not hear mum?”

He stopped when he saw that they had noticed him. His face was flushed and he glowered at them from his spot.

“Come on, then! Don’t forget the apples. Mum will kill both of us. Hell, you’ve only been down here for the past half hour, what could you both have been doing?”

His muttering disappeared with him as he climbed back up. Then Percy whipped around with a growl.

“Let’s go!” he shouted.

Ginny jumped to attention, sharing a small smile with Draco before they raced after her brother. The basket followed her obediently.

She felt incredibly light as she headed back to the Burrow.

)*(*)*(

Dinner seemed like a ridiculous affair after everything that had happened out at the apple grove but Ginny didn’t have the option of grabbing Draco and leaving. No, that would make everyone at the table suspicious, especially her brothers. Ginny had a feeling that Bill and George were already suspicious, if only for the fact that they had sent Percy, the most oblivious brother other than Ron, to go grab the pair.

But Draco was warm beside her as they ate with her family. She wondered, briefly, if she had always been so sensitive to Draco; Ginny felt like she could sense every move he made, could feel the heat radiate from his body like never before, could pick up on his breathing despite it being so soft. Randomly she thought of reaching under the table, touching his thigh, grabbing his free hand, anything to get a reaction—all she wanted was a reminder that the kiss in the orchards had actually happened.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it, however. Harry was sitting at the table beside Angelina, having shown up to dinner for once, and was recounting some of the more humorous stories about training the new Aurors. If Harry thought it odd that Draco was seated beside Ginny at the table, making his presence known in the group for the second time in two weeks, he didn’t comment on it. His emerald eyes did linger on Ginny for a moment, though, questioning but kind, but nothing more came from it.

Even if it weren’t for Harry, George had decided to take the seat on the other side of Draco and constantly kept him in conversation. Beside Ginny was Hermione, for which Ginny was thankful; they could share conversation under the noise of the group. Rose sat at her mother’s other side, devastated that she didn’t get to sit next to her new favorite ‘uncle’. Ron sat by Harry, his glower becoming a familiar sight. Bill had a knowing look in his eyes whenever he looked over at her end and Percy was still randomly complaining about having to go get them, which drew even more attention to the fact that Draco and Ginny were away from the Burrow for so long.

In the end, surrounded by so much family, Ginny could not take the time to convince herself that everything that had happened was real. She’d have to wait till dinner was done.

It was as George was yelling across the table to Arthur that Hermione leaned in close, whispering. On Ginny’s other side, Draco looked overly amused at whatever Angelina was attempting to tell him. Amused but oblivious, giving Ginny time to talk to her friend.

“Something’s different.”

Ginny looked at her sister-in-law and fought a grin. If they weren’t at the Burrow, if they were anywhere else and not with their insane family, Ginny would’ve already told Hermione about what had happened.

“This is the first time you’ve seen each other since his date?” Hermione asked softly, as Molly yelled for George to stop shouting.

“Apparently it wasn’t a date,” Ginny corrected as she lifted her glass to her lips to take a sip.

Hermione made a triumphant sound in her throat. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“He’s acting differently,” Hermione added, after Louis’ high pitched, tired screams pierced everyone’s ears. “He’s acting differently not just with you but with everyone.”

That much was certainly true, a wonder in itself. Ginny supposed it was lucky that Draco had already done dinner with her family, that they had already bickered over him and his right to sit at their table, for now hardly any of them spoke badly about him or his family throughout the meal. Ron was still glowering at him distrustfully whenever he remembered a Malfoy was present among them but he was the only one. And… she didn’t want to hope too much but Hermione’s words confirmed that she wasn’t the only one noticing Draco’s enjoyment with her brothers, their significant others, her parents.

Not only were they attempting to talk to him but he to them also.

It was alarming and welcome and made her skin flush when she thought on it too long.

Ginny gave a slight nod that satisfied Hermione.

“How were the orchards?”

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice, catching Draco’s attention. His eyebrows rose as she coughed beside him, and he patted her lightly on the back.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

He smirked.

Draco looked back to Bill, who must’ve been talking to him. Ginny turned narrowed eyes to Hermione, who was smothering her laughter with a napkin. Honestly, Ginny knew it had to have been Hermione who somehow got Draco to this dinner tonight but that didn’t mean she wasn’t an evil wench sometimes. A smile tugged at her lips once her face cooled and she knocked her elbow against Hermione’s.

“You’re evil. Remember when I told Rose that? Evil.”

Hermione shrugged innocently.

“You’ve flowers in your hair,” she noticed, reaching over and plucking a white petal from Ginny’s locks.

Her cheeks flushed again. That had absolutely nothing to do with what happened in the groves between her and Draco. Hermione’s mischievous gaze warned her that she thought otherwise, however. Ginny reached over, attempting to snatch the petal from Hermione’s grasp.

“I rather like them.”

Draco’s voice startled Ginny and Hermione, who both whipped around to look at him. His smirk was sharp and Ginny wondered if he had been listening to them the whole time. She had a feeling he had been. Lifting her hand to cover her smile, Ginny glanced at Hermione, whose lips were pressed together to hide her own amusement at being caught.

“Like what?”

Ron’s voice was loud across the table. Ginny let out a groan that made Hermione start laughing.

“He’s talking about the flowers in Ginny’s hair,” Hermione responded. “Is he not allowed to like things?”

“You’d look lovely with them in your hair, too, Weasley,” Draco added lightly before taking a bite of his food.

Bill snorted as he took a sip of water, making the children burst into laughter. George’s grin was wicked. Ron’s face, unsurprisingly, turned a deep maroon.

“You’ve no right to be here—”

“Stop it, Ron, he’s teasing,” Hermione said.

“Yes, Ron, I’m just teasing,” Draco echoed.

Harry’s eyes went comically wide and he seized Ron’s arm at the perfect time, for her brother instantly went to grab his wand. Ginny elbowed Draco in the side, earning her an innocent shrug from him. Arthur’s gaze went from Harry and Ron, Harry attempting to keep control while Ron growled in rage, to Draco and Ginny, who were grinning at each other.

“Stop it, boys, you’re far too old for this fighting,” Molly ordered. She pointed the wooden spoon she held at Draco. “You’re included in this, Draco. I won’t have these fights anymore.”

“They’re hardly fighting, mum,” Bill said.

“Then what would you call it?” Angelina asked, leaning her chin in her hand as she looked to Bill.

He shrugged.

“They’re learning how to get along.”

Draco looked as horrified as Ron and Ginny had to bite her lip to keep from laughing along with everyone else.

After what felt like an eternity of sneaked glances and sly smiles that made her skin tingle, dinner was over and the family began their goodbyes. Unlike the last dinner Draco had attended everyone seemed content to linger. Rose had fallen asleep in Molly’s arms after desserts. Fleur paced with Louis in her arms in front of the low fire that Arthur and Molly kept burning despite it being the middle of summer. Percy and Audrey entertained Victoire in the front yard, chasing fireflies and pointing out the various stars.

It was nice.

That was the first word that came to mind when Ginny thought of this meal with her family, of everyone still staying at the Burrow despite the meal being done. If only Charlie could come in more often from Romania for events like this. If only Fred were still here to join.

She shivered slightly and saw Draco glance over at her.

The past week and a half had been overly stressful for her, dragging her through a range of emotions that she hadn’t felt in a long while, and certainly not all at once. Now that it was over, now that she had Draco beside her, it was easy to look back and think of how she should’ve simply read his letters or told him what was bothering her. But there was still plenty left unsaid between them.

Ginny briefly envisioned them together after this, speaking till the fire in the hearth died at his manor. The vision was quickly replaced with another, of them finishing what they started in the orchards, of her thirst finally being quenched.

Draco seemed to know what she was thinking, his lips tugging down slightly as his hand twitched at his side. She had begun to think it was a give of his, the flexing of his hand. And Ginny could only hope she was right when she thought it meant he was holding himself back from something—from what, she wasn’t sure. Tilting her head, Ginny leaned against the railing on her front patio. His eyes followed her every move.

“Are we going to stay here all night with your brothers?” he inquired teasingly.

If anyone were trying to listen, it was likely they wouldn’t hear a thing. There was a warm breeze that carried his words towards her then away. Victoire’s loud giggles, along with Percy’s random shouts and Audrey’s light singing as the trio ran around the front yard, would’ve drowned out everything else either way.

“Hmm? You don’t want to?” she replied. “What else do you have in mind?”

One of his light eyebrows rose.

“You misunderstand me. I’d much prefer staying here with your family.”

Ginny laughed out loud, reaching over and shoving Draco. He barely moved but the smirk that curled on his lips was visible even in the dark.

“I’m happy you’ve been enjoying your time with Ron, Harry, and Hermione.”

“They’re the least of my worries.”

“Who are you worried about, then?”

Other than the famous trio, Draco was on perfectly safe grounds at the Burrow.

“You,” he murmured.

The hair on the back of her neck rose.

)*(*)*(

They used Floo to get back to Malfoy Manor, a fact that delighted the Weasley family more than Draco cared for. He had long ago made sure the Floo networks were connected from the manor to appropriate places and had been surprised to find that his mother had already made sure the manor and the Burrow were connected. Draco could only assume it was his aunt who pushed for that, because Draco knew Narcissa wouldn’t be the first to suggest it.

His skin flushed pleasantly once he arrived in the drawing room, knowing Ginny wasn’t far behind him. Their moment before dinner secured something in Draco’s mind that he hadn’t known he was looking for. She had wanted this for a long time, she had said. The idea of it, the idea that Ginny Weasley had been wanting him for longer than he knew, left him itching to return to their previous position.

Snuggled in between her thighs. Her breath fast and warm against his face as she pulled him closer. Fingers wrapped in her damp curls. Inhaling the scent of her.

And Ginny had been willing—so very willing—to meet him when he approached her.

“Welcome home,” an amused voice drawled.

Draco hadn’t even noticed Pansy before him. She had her legs up on the table, crossed at the ankle, and she pursed her lips as she looked him over.

“It was a good dinner?” she asked.

Stepping forward, well aware that Ginny would be arriving any second, he gave a slight nod.

“Better than I expected.”

“Good. You owe me then.”

Pansy slid her legs off the table and stood up, stretching slightly. She looked more disheveled than normal but seemed in a better state than Draco had been after his first day with Teddy. When she reached him, she smoothed his shirt on his shoulder.

“Flint abandon you so quickly?” Draco questioned.

She shrugged.

“Not as fond of children as he had hoped.” Her lip quirked up. “I didn’t mind too horribly. The boy is asleep, despite all the sugar Flint gave him to win him over, and… I’ll be off, then. Enjoy your night. Write me in the morning, will you?”

He couldn’t help but smirk back at her as she left the drawing room, likely heading to the front to leave through apparition. Pansy continued to be paranoid about having her Floo network connected to Malfoy Manor so she tended to Apparate. It was as he heard the distant click of his front door closing that the fire before him turned green. Draco turned his attention to the hearth as Ginny’s figure appeared and she stepped out.

A grin brightened her face as soon as she saw him.

“Mum was interrogating me a bit,” she said, breathlessly. “Bill had to step in and distract her with Victoire—”

He barely heard her as he strode up to her. Draco didn’t realize he was reaching for her, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck to pull her closer, or that she had already been drawing nearer, the words dying on her lips, before they were on each other. It was simply that one minute they had been separate and, in the blink of an eye, they weren’t.

Her lips were soft and hot and wet, sending a shock through him as soon as they brushed against his mouth. Just as he had in the orchard, he gripped the bottom of her thighs and lifted her. Ginny had always seemed tiny to him, small but strong, and he thought it again as he boosted her up for she hardly needed the assistance—her legs wrapped around his waist easily, keeping her firmly in place as he stumbled out of the drawing room.

Bedroom, bedroom, they needed to get to the bedroom.

But her lips were on his neck, biting gently, coercing deep moans from him, and they had barely made it down the corridor before he had her back pressed against the wall. She let out a breath of relief, her hands running through his hair, mimicking an action he had done hundreds of times before. Ginny’s touch was different, lighter, though her nails scratched his scalp whenever she wanted him closer.

“When?” he managed to grunt before her lips caught his again.

Draco didn’t need to say more. Ginny knew what he was asking, just as she knew what he was saying in the grove, when they realized they knew what they wanted, needed, at the same time. Leaning away from him, her loose curls cushioning her head against the wall, she took a shuddering breath.

“Ages. Beginning of training camp last season?”

Last season? His grip on her loosened in surprise, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as he stared at her with furrowed brows.

“Last season?” he repeated.

Ginny tightened her arms around his neck, tugging him closer to the warm core between her thighs. There was something wild about the woman before him, something reckless and untamed and messy that Draco feared he could lose himself in.

“Focus, Draco,” she almost purred, lifting a hand to trace his jawline.

“I had no idea,” Draco confessed, the realization of what she said distracting him too much. “If my mother, if bloody Andromeda, if they hadn’t had me watch Teddy—”

Suddenly Ginny leaned away from him and dropped her legs to the ground. His grip on her had already been loose from his shock and she dropped to the ground easily. Ducking around him, Ginny tossed a look over her shoulder as she began down the corridor.

“You’ll have to thank them for me,” she said with a wink.

“Where are you going, Weasley?”

Ginny turned around, light on her feet as she continued walking.

“If I leave it up to you, Malfoy, I fear we’ll never make it to your bedroom.”

She disappeared in the shadows as she headed to the staircase.

Malfoy. Her eyebrows rose when his name teasingly left her lips and he reacted to it, the same as he had back at Hogwarts when she’d spit it in disgust. Except now Ginny hardly sounded disgusted; if anything she was taunting him to follow her, still breathless from his touch. Except now, it wasn’t anger that made his body taut, no, it certainly wasn’t. Except now, he wasn’t chasing after her to duel her, no, no.

When she heard his footsteps coming after her, a burst of laughter filled the darkness. His lips twisted into a sharp grin as he took the stairs two at a time. The lanterns that adorned the walls hardly did their job, keeping the staircase and corridors particularly obscure. But Draco had grown up in this manor, could hear from the creak up ahead that Ginny had raced past Teddy’s room and was almost to Draco’s.

The idea that she knew her way through the manor without him made him only more eager to catch her, to find her, to show his appreciation.

Draco almost ran past Teddy’s room but stopped, heart hammering. He hadn’t seen the boy all day and, though he trusted Pansy, he opened the door quietly and checked in. Light from the stars filtered through the curtain, highlighting Teddy’s face, soft in his sleep. Shutting the door, Draco turned to find Ginny watching him from the doorway of his bedroom.

The laughter had left her. Her gaze was tender, affectionate, vulnerable as she studied him. Draco approached her slowly and when he got close enough to her that he had to bend his head to keep eye contact, she put out a hand to stop him. Ginny’s palm was warm on his chest and his heartbeat picked up. Could she feel that? Did she know what she was doing to him?

“When?” she whispered, parroting his question.

Draco closed his eyes briefly. When? There wasn’t an exact moment, he supposed. Had he always liked her more than he knew but hadn’t thought it wise to examine his feelings? Was there a chance that, while he dated Astoria and found her lacking, he purposely spent more time with Ginny, unaware why? Did Pansy really plant the seed in his mind only two weeks ago? Had the seed grown so quickly, without any care, feeding off him and the ideas it brought?

His moment of silence brought a hesitancy to Ginny that he felt through her touch. Opening his eyes, he grabbed her hand to keep it captured against his chest.

“I don’t know,” Draco responded honestly. “But it’s here. I’ve been a fool to not see it.”

Ginny frowned. Draco sighed, aware that his answer wasn’t one that pleased her. Lifting the hand he held, he pressed a soft kiss to her palm. The shiver that racked her body did not go unnoticed.

“I am not a risk taker,” he reminded her, releasing her hand.

He was a coward. A coward who had somehow caught the attention of the most fearless person he had ever met.

“I would not jeopardize this if I did not think… you’re one of my few friends, Ginny, and I wouldn’t—I couldn’t ever have thought of this happening if I hadn’t—if Pansy hadn’t—she was the one who didn’t understand why we weren’t dating. And I never would’ve thought that you’d come to care for me, as a friend, as a person, much less… anything more. I was blind to it. They said I’m horrible at reading women and I am, I suppose, because I had no idea. Since last season? Ginny, I had no idea. And if I had—maybe it’s best I hadn’t, maybe I wasn’t ready, but I am now if you are.”

Draco scowled as he stumbled over his words. When he focused on Ginny, the fire from his room outlining her, he noted that her eyes were piercing, her lips parted slightly.

“I’m not poetic,” he continued, rambling in her silence.

Her lips cracked into a smile that loosened the knot in his chest.

“I’m not looking for poetic.”

“Good,” Draco responded lightly, stepping closer to her.

Relieved that she let him.

“I figured you were poetic enough for the both of us.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at his words. The smirk came to his lips without warning as he began reciting what he could remember.

“Eyes as green as fresh pic—”

Ginny burst out into laughter before pulling him towards her. Her lips met his before he could finish quoting her old poem, the one that he had laughed over for weeks his second year, but he did not mind. Kicking the door shut behind him, Draco lost himself in everything that was Ginny once again.

The amusement, the teasing, the laughter, was gone but only because they were drowning in each other. Somehow they ended up on the bed, tugging off clothes on their way, desperate to remain connected, touching. When she pulled off her dress, he was exploring the soft skin now exposed, drawing her closer. As he fumbled to unbutton his shirt, half tempted to rip it open, her teeth were nipping at his ear lobe then the sensitive skin of his neck, earning sharp breaths from him.

Then they were naked before each other except for underwear but there was no time to stop, to admire, for there was a desperation in their touches that unwound him.

Her caress was at ends with how heated her lips were; when her nails drug down his back, shivers followed. When she moaned, the sound so foreign to him though he had heard it many times from other women, goosebumps rose on his skin. As he drew her nipple in his mouth, a whimper escaped her that made him freeze.

Draco,” she gasped and he was moving again, brought back to life.

This was Ginny Weasley, his friend, his coworker, the daughter of a family he had been warned against since birth. He shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t, they should be talking about this more but—

But he could feel the heat from the center of her legs, hot and wet against his chest as he paid attention to her breasts, and none it mattered, did it? Not when she said she had wanted this for ages. Not when Ginny had met him halfway.

His tongue traced the constellation of freckles splattered across her stomach as he left her breasts for better things. Her fingers curled in his hair, tight then loose then tight again, as he kissed his way down her body. When Draco’s fingers hooked on her knickers, he paused, half anticipating her cry for him to stop.

Maybe she didn’t want this. And though his erection was throbbing almost painfully, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should be putting a stop to this—

“What the hell are you doing, Draco?”

He looked up at Ginny to find she was propped up on her elbows, cheeks flushed, tongue moistening her bottom lip as she waited for his answer. Ginger locks fell over her shoulder, mussed and tangled, and, Merlin, he was such an idiot for not thinking about bringing this vixen into his room for this sooner.

“Seriously? Are you okay?” Ginny asked softly, using a hand to gently guide him back up to her face.

“Of course,” he replied haughtily as she pressed a tender kiss to his jaw.

His breath caught in his throat.

“Good, good, you had me worried,” she murmured before pushing him onto his back.

Draco’s ability to breathe left him as Ginny straddled him, mischief dancing in her brown depths as she leaned down to indulge him to the same treatment he had given her only a moment ago. There was no hesitancy to her actions and, fuck, her touch made his muscles spasm and his cock twitch.

It was a dance they took part in, kissing, licking, touching, before returning the favor, each going further, until finally there was no clothing restricting either of them. Ginny was hot and ready, her voice pitching higher the longer he drew out the inevitable, and when he finally entered her, finally finally finally, his arms were shaking. Draco wished he was composed, wished he could seem in control, but it was almost a relief to lose himself in Ginny’s moans, whimpers, sighs. She urged him on as he thrust into her, her legs wrapped around him to keep him close, her hands moving constantly over his body as if she couldn’t find the perfect spot to hold onto.

It was over far too soon—and it was completely Draco’s fault. How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to know the night would end like this? How was he supposed to know that the sounds that escaped Ginny when he entered her would make him weak? He didn’t know, he didn’t, and as he fought to catch his breath, to apologize for his cock and its inability to last long enough for her to reach her peak, he found she was grinning.

He had to look away when he collapsed beside her. Draco could feel her gaze but couldn’t look at her, not yet.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, his hand pressed against his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Chills still racked his body, making it hard to concentrate.

“Too fast, too fast. Next time, I promise. All about you.”

She laughed and it sounded like magic as he turned to catch her eyes. Ginny hardly looked disappointed. If anything, she looked the opposite; her eyes were dancing, hooded, and her body was flushed pleasantly.

“You’ve been apologizing a lot recently,” Ginny teased, reaching out to brush some of his blonde strands from his face. “I have high confidence in you, Draco.”

Her touch still sent shocks through his body and before he knew what he was doing he was over top of her again, caging her in, his hands on either side of her face. Ginny’s eyebrows rose.

“So soon?”

The smirk that curled on his lips was dangerous and he knew it, could tell by the way her body tensed slightly.

“All about you,” he promised.

Ginny laughed again, a short laugh that showed she thought he was joking, but as he kissed his way down her body the laughter became throaty, her body melting back into the bed.

“You don’t have to,” Draco thought he heard her whisper but he paid no attention to it, instead distracted by the salty taste of her skin, the moans that erupted from her as he worked his way down.

Then his lips found her core, pulsing and hot and ready, and he lost himself in her.

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

Author notes: This was the hardest chapter for me to write but my favorite. Hope you enjoy!

Leave a Review
You must login (register) to review.