Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the HP characters that are used here. I do not receive compensation for this work, except for reviews, which are most welcome
This is the sequel to "The Journey Home" and will contain references to that story, so you should probably read that first. Note, there is sexual reference in this chapter.
The morning sun streamed in through the window, causing Ginny to burrow under the pillow in irritation. She'd been in a perfectly deep sleep and enjoying a happy dream of being in a sunny meadow, picking wildflowers with her brother, Fred. He picked her up and swung her around like he always had when she was small. He was laughing. He was happy. For that moment, he was alive again. She wanted it to stay that way.
She drifted off again, returning to the dream, losing herself in the happy moment. She could smell spring in the breeze, and feel Fred's arms holding her securely as he danced playfully with her in the field. It was more than a dream, more than a memory. It was a special time for her and her wonderful, courageous brother. She wanted it to go on forever, but eventually, like all happy moments, the laughter faded and they stood together quietly, looking out over the stream behind their house.
She studied the area, almost exactly as she remembered it from her childhood, but then she noticed a path beyond the stream, one that hadn't been there before. It looked inviting, as if begging to be explored, and Ginny remembered how many times she'd followed her twin brothers on similar adventures. Those days were over now, and they hadn't gotten into such innocent mischief in years.
But she noticed that Fred was looking at it, then he looked back to her. She knew as some base level that he was going to explore that mysterious little trail, and that she wasn't going with him. She felt cheated. It wasn't right for him to be going without his twin, or his little sister, tagging along.
"I've got to go now, Bug," he said, addressing her by the nickname he'd always used for her when they were children.
She looked toward the path again, realizing that when Fred walked down that path on his adventure, he wouldn't be returning. Something deep in her core told her that, when he left, it would be for the last time. With all her heart, she didn't want that to happen, and a jolt of fear ripped through her.
"No, you can't!" she said desperately, wanting to keep him there with her for as long as possible. She would stay in this meadow forever, if it meant he could be with her, alive and well. She grabbed at his hand, pulling him toward her, trying to tug him away from the stream and back toward their house. "The joke's over, Fred," she said desperately, trying to reason with him. "It wasn't funny making us all think you were dead. It's time to stop fooling around and come home!"
He shook his head, an uncharacteristic look of apology on his face.
"It wasn't a joke, Bug. I just came back because I want you to know that I'm all right."
She felt a bit of indignation that he wasn't listening, much like a small child who was not getting her way, but, in that moment, she didn't care. "If you're all right, then can't you please come home? Just for a little while longer?" she pleaded, in a tone that had always managed to get him to relent to her when she was small.
He shook his head, smiling gently and sadly. "I'm sorry. It doesn't work that way."
Tears came to her eyes. At a deep level, she understood, but she didn't want to. He was here. He was real. She could feel his hand in hers. It was warm. She could smell the grass and flowers around her, even though she was well-aware that it was winter outside.
"No," she pleaded in a small, cracked voice, begging him to change his mind, knowing that he wouldn't.
He stepped closer and hugged her then, and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back fiercely, burying her face in his shirt. "I miss you, Fred. I miss you so much," she sobbed.
They stood there, holding each other tightly for a several minutes, and he held her protectively, stroking her hair while she cried softly. Eventually, her sobs quieted, and she came to accept the sad truth. Fred pulled away, still holding her hands as he looked her in the eyes, his gaze open and honest. "Everything's going to be ok," he said, his expression more serious than she had ever seen. "I was looking out for you the whole time, but I've got to go. You've got others to look out for you now. You'll be ok, Bug."
Her lip trembled slightly. She understood. She didn't want to understand or accept it, but it was the way the universe worked. She had to accept it. He was here to say goodbye. At least she had him for that moment and she could treasure that.
"I love you, Fred," she said softly.
He smiled then, his lips lifting in a familiar quirky manner that hinted of joy, mischief and love. "Well, of course you do. Who wouldn't?"
She laughed, and something in her heart lightened, as if the sorrow had been physically lifted from her.
"Don't cause too much trouble," she advised.
He grinned again, reached up and ruffled her hair and then stepped back. He was fading now and moving in the direction of the inviting path, but she could still see him. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, although it was quite clear he was telling a lie. She almost felt sorry for whoever would have to contend with him now. Almost. The thought made her laugh. Her ridiculously wonderful brother grinned back at her, knowing that he was going to be up to no good and it was their own little secret.
"I love you, Bug. Give 'em hell for me, yeah?"
She nodded vigorously and waved, smiling in return as he drifted away. Fred had always been that way. He'd always been able to make her feel better regardless of what might have made her sad. She would still miss him horribly, but being able to say farewell would help her bear the burden.
He'd said that he'd been there the whole time, and that made her feel comforted. Her half-conscious thoughts opened her mind to realize that she'd been wrapped up in anger and sorrow for so long that, even if he had been there, she couldn't have seen him because she'd closed herself off to the world, and to him. It was time to let it all go. Fred would rather that she help carry on his legacy and live her life with the same joy that he had. She could do that. For him.
As she snuggled more deeply into the soft covers, a profound sense of peace and contentment enveloped her. She would always miss her brother, but she felt better knowing he was still somewhere in this universe, causing his relentless mischief, and he was safe and happy.
After a few minutes of resting, her mind started to wake from its sleepy haze and she shifted again, noticing that the bed was far more comfortable than the little cot that she had become accustomed to sleeping on in her tiny, one-room apartment.
She'd awoken in this bedroom once before but, unlike the last time, she didn't feel quite so out of place. She was dressed in men's pajamas, although they were ridiculously soft, and she turned to see the blond head of her companion sleeping next to her. Just like the last time, she admired how beautiful and young he looked in sleep.
Fred had told her others were looking out for her. Was Draco Malfoy one of them?
She watched the young man sleep, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly as he dreamed. He'd suffered the loss of his father in the same violent manner that she'd lost her brother, at the hand of the same ruthless and unscrupulous people. She'd seen the hurt and loneliness in his eyes that she'd seen in her own. Unwittingly, they were on a quest to find the same murderer and somehow they'd found each other along the way.
He hadn't needed to take her back to his home. After they'd finished giving their statement to Moody and the Aurors, Draco could have simply left. Instead, he'd waited for her to finish her interviews and then escorted her back here. At the time, she'd been too exhausted to think about why. Her first visit to Draco's home had been strictly about sex, but this time had been the opposite. His only touches had been a comforting arm around her waist as they Apparated, or a gentle touch on her arm or shoulder as he guided her around the house, showing her the bath and guest room, then directing the elf to see to her needs.
After that, he'd disappeared, she assumed so that he could take care of his own personal hygiene, leaving her with the elf. After she'd bathed and dressed, it had been her decision to walk past the guest room and into his. Then, even after she'd crawled into his bed, he'd simply folded her into a welcoming embrace and told her to go to sleep.
Without question, she realized that his actions were those of someone who cared about her. Thinking back, she realized that the moment he'd interrupted her first conversation with Flint, it was because he cared enough to try to keep her out of trouble. During the subsequent challenge, he'd tried to back out several times, but she wouldn't allow it. In the end, she'd given herself to him without regret.
During their time together hiding from the giants in the hills of Hellvillon, she'd seen a different side of him and, surprisingly, they'd even been able to talk without arguing. He had helped her on her quest to get information, and tried to keep her from Flint, knowing that Flint likely wouldn't have hesitated to dispose of her if he knew she was trying to gather information about his unscrupulous dealings.
Also, he had admitted that he'd been fancying her ever since she'd hexed him at the end of her fifth year.
She couldn't help but chuckle quietly to herself at that thought.
If all it took was to hex a boy to get his attention, she might have done so more often. Then, she might not have needed to wait so long for Harry to notice her. But, Harry was far from her thoughts and he had been for some time.
The blond stirred, mumbling something softly in his sleep and she watched him fondly. He really was a handsome bloke. She wondered why she hadn't noticed that sooner, but she hadn't had the opportunity to observe him much before, especially in situations where he was looking so unguarded. More importantly, having seen another side of his personality over the past few days, she realized that she had drastically changed her opinion of him in many ways.
When she'd analyzed why she'd slept with him before, she had come to the conclusion that it was because she had thought that there would be no emotional attachment to him. She'd been looking for a physical release to all the anger that she had bottled inside, and she'd justified to herself that he'd been convenient, nothing more. But, since then, she'd developed a strange fondness for the young man with the Dark Mark on his arm. She sighed. She actually liked the prat.
He rolled toward her, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. His touch was gentle and warm, and she snuggled into his body willingly, once again allowing his closeness to comfort her.
Never, ever would she have dreamed of feeling so safe in the arms of this man.
His hold tightened slightly and she felt him press a soft kiss against her temple. "Good morning," he said sleepily.
Damn him. He was being rather sweet and adorable again, just as he'd been the night previously. She felt a warm stirring in her chest and came to the conclusion that she liked him quite a lot. Worse, she was fully aware of the fact that she found him very, very attractive. In a moment of epiphany, she realized that she was falling for him.
The realization frightened her, and she felt her body stiffen slightly.
"You don't have to go," he said quietly
She sighed in defeat, relaxing again. When she really thought about it, she didn't want to go. She'd been angry and bitter for so long that she was tired of it all. Somehow, fighting herself about developing feelings for Malfoy just seemed like too much effort.
Wanting to look at him, she turned slightly and wrapped her free arm over him, returning his embrace. He was wearing pajama bottoms, but no top, and she took a moment to admire his form as her gaze traveled up to his face. A soft smile graced his perfect lips and his eyes shown with something akin to hopefulness.
The fingers of her free hand reached up to touch his cheek, then trace along that gentle smile. She wanted to kiss him.
"I'm sorry I intruded in your room last night. You were so kind to set up the guest room..."
He shook his head. "I'm glad you stayed."
"I probably should go home. I've taken up enough of your hospitality."
His smile faltered. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need," he said, his hand giving her waist a light squeeze.
She closed her eyes, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. He was silently willing her to stay and she realized that it was something she really wanted also.
When she opened her eyes, he was still looking at her, albeit sadly. He'd helped her, and she wanted to do something to thank him. The urge to kiss him became stronger, and she gave up trying to resist. She leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his.
He returned the kiss immediately, and she felt him give a soft sigh, wrapping his arm more securely around her. She relaxed into the kiss, and she could almost feel him smiling as their lips pressed together, and she couldn't help but smile back. His joy in the moment was contagious and she found that she wanted more and he seemed more than willing to comply. His hands remained chastely around her waist, while his mouth moved along her cheek, toward her ear, in short, playful pecks.
She giggled.
It was a monumental moment for Ginny, if only because she realized that she hadn't openly giggled over anything in far too long.
Mumbling something about her laughter, he rolled onto his back, pulling her body with his, so that she was lying partially on top of him. Still smiling, she pulled away just enough to look at him, gently brushing his fringe from his eyes. The lost look he'd had only moments before had disappeared, and was now replaced with genuine happiness, and she was rather pleased that she'd had something to do with that.
"You always seem so intense," she remarked.
He responded with a short grunt, not quite a laugh, although it seemed that her words amused him. "Only when I'm focused on getting what I want," he replied.
She bit her lip. "And what is it that you want?" she asked, somewhat playfully, still resting on his bare chest.
He lifted a hand to brush a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Isn't it obvious?"
She released a heavy breath, feeling a blush redden her cheeks because of his insinuation. Trying to keep the mood light, she responded, "Well, I would think it's not all that unusual for any man to react that way when he wakes up to finding a woman in his bed, no matter what the circumstances."
"Yet, you don't seem to be in a hurry to leave," he said with a smirk.
Becoming very self-conscious, she began to pull away, but his arm tightened slightly, stopping her.
"Don't leave, Ginevra. I promise not to attack you," he said, almost worriedly, but then, a little devilish grin came to his lips and he added, "However, you are the one on top right now, and I thought I'd inform you that if you do decide to ravish me, I won't object."
She gave him a light smack on his chest. "Git."
He smiled again, and she couldn't help but appreciate how relaxed he was at the moment. "You call me names now, and only a few minutes ago, you were thanking me for being nice. How fickle of you."
Deciding that she couldn't possibly let him get away with such a remark, she grabbed the soft pillow and smacked it into his somewhat smug-looking face.
He moved like a cat in response. In one swift and graceful movement, he released her, ripped the pillow from her grasp and flung it aside, rolling over and pinning her beneath him.
"Hey!" she squeaked, yet, she found herself grinning up at him.
"You, my dear Ginevra, are far too impulsive for your own good."
She raised her eyebrow and looked at him skeptically. "And you are far too smug."
"I'm a Malfoy. It's my duty to be smug."
She reached around, trying to grab another pillow, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, settling his body solidly on top of hers to keep her from attacking him some other way.
"What happened to me being on top to ravish you?" she asked, somewhat indignantly.
"I'm afraid you lost that privilege when you turned to violence," he said with a superior smile.
She dropped her head back on the bed and gave an overly dramatic sigh. "I'll never forgive myself. I was so looking forward to the opportunity."
"Well, if you are a good girl, I might give you another chance," he replied with mock seriousness.
She chuckled. "That will likely never happen."
"I know," he said. "Which is one of the reasons I like you so much, I think."
The humor left her expression. Once again, he'd implied that he had some sort of feelings for her. Before she could respond, he leaned down to kiss her and she had no desire to stop him.
He released her hands almost immediately, and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back with equal enthusiasm.
It was so different than what had happened between them during their first encounter in this room, Ginny couldn't help but compare. It wasn't as impulsive as that first time, but it was certainly just as intense. His kiss was soft, yet insistent, and she welcomed and returned. There was no demand, no dare, no challenge. Instead, each seemed to silently ask for the other's permission as they kissed and caressed each other.
He ran his hands along the soft silk of her pajamas, feeling each curve, and she did the same, touching him, tracing him, exploring in a much slower, more intimate pace than their first interaction.
Still, the intensity of their actions left her breathless and heated, and she welcomed it when he finally began to finger the buttons on the front of her nightshirt. She helped him unfasten them, watching his eyes follow every movement of her fingers as each button was released.
He placed a hand over hers before she could begin to slip out of the garment. "I know things went a bit fast the last time. I don't want you to feel pressured."
Again, she noticed how he was being remarkably thoughtful. She was getting used to that, and thought that he seemed so different from the ice prince that she'd known in Hogwarts. Times had changed for the both of them, making her curious to learn more about him, but those were thoughts for another time. "I have no regrets about that night," she said.
It wasn't hard to decide that she wanted to continue. With an impulsive grin, she removed the nightshirt, watching his reaction as she stripped off the garment.
He reminded her of a child at Christmas. His eyes widened and a small, joyful smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He didn't notice her rolling her eyes in amusement because, understanding that he'd been given permission, he became totally fixated on giving her newly exposed breasts attention.
Her smile disappeared as soon as he began to caress her nipple, the sensation taking her breath away.
"You like that, do you?" he asked, while his fingers left the nipple and traced along the underside of her breast, moving up along the side, and finally lightly tracing her collarbone and neck, his eyes following his fingers along the entire path.
She swallowed, acutely aware of the warmth growing in her gut with every action. She nodded.
His fingers moved up her neck and traced her jawline, and his eyes finally looked into hers. "Good," he said, leaning down to kiss her again. She had a split second to notice the old, familiar smugness to his tone, but decided to ignore it because she thought she might melt when his lips met hers.
As he kissed, his hands continued to trace along her body, lightly caressing and she thought she might lose all coherent thought. During their last time together, she'd pressured him to continue, and part of her wanted to do so again, but she forced herself to relax, allowing him to take his time to explore. He kissed his way along her torso, slowly working his way down her stomach, causing her breath to become progressively more shallow.
When she felt his explorations reach the waistband of her pajama pants, she gasped for air. Their heated previous tryst was nothing compared to the slow, burning passion that seemed to encompass them this time and it frightened her just a little bit.
But she was also aware that she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. When he tugged on her waistband she eagerly lifted her hips to help remove the pajama pants. She found herself mesmerized as she watched him slowly and reverently tug the garment down her legs, kissing her along the way as he exposed new skin.
She felt like she needed to participate more actively, and started to sit up, but he moved to place a hand on her stomach, pressing her back onto the bed, shaking his head slightly.
Confused, she lay back down, still watching him as he tossed the garment aside and placed a soft kiss on her knee. Then another and another, each one a bit higher than the last, his lips and tongue tasting her as he casually moved along. His hand caressed the back of her leg, gently stroking, almost tickling as he moved along, while his hungry mouth steadily worked toward her inner thigh. His body moved gracefully as he positioned himself between her knees, encouraging her to spread her legs wider as each kiss moved further up her inner thigh toward her core.
Realizing where he was headed, she gasped and gripped the sheets, partially in fear. She'd read about such ministrations in many of the overly descriptive romance novels that she and her friends had enjoyed reading in the late nights at school, but she had never imagined anyone actually performing the act on her. Noticing her reaction, he paused long enough to give her a devilish grin before continuing on his quest, and she, once again, found her breath coming in short gasps of anticipation.
She was fully open to him now, her legs spread wide, and her most private parts bared and vulnerable to him. Unlike their first time, she wasn't in command of the situation and it unnerved her slightly. Their last encounter had been about control, almost dominance. Ginny had commanded the situation and everything had been on her own terms. This was the complete opposite; it was about trust and surrender.
"Relax," he commanded gently as his kisses moved a little higher up her leg, and his hand began to reach under her, cupping her bum.
She tried, forcing herself to take a deep breath, as he once again paused to look up at her, his eyes dark and intense. Her body was so ready for him that she thought she might explode if he didn't continue, and that was when she gave over to the passionate emotion that was now consuming her. The feelings of fight and anger had long left her, and she was letting go of the last of her resistance. She allowed her body to release, opening her legs wider and allowing him full access.
Then, his lips touched her core and she felt as if she was going to die from the intensity of it. She moaned, and could almost feel him smile against her sensitive skin. He gave the area a light lick, and then continued, using his lips and tongue to bring her body to a heaven that she had never previously imagined. She clutched the sheets tightly, moaning with each movement, her head thrown back, completely unashamed of being on such display to him.
When she climaxed, it was a feeling of total ecstasy, and she cried out, feeling completely spent. She collapsed back onto the sheets exhausted, although she couldn't help but notice his grin as he proceeded to kiss his way back up her body as he positioned himself on top of her.
"Must you be so smug?" she asked, still panting from the exertion.
"When it is appropriate to be so, yes," he replied, still grinning.
She raised her hips, pulling him closer, unfortunately realizing that he was quite right.
He sunk into her immediately, releasing a satisfied groan, his grin fading quickly as his base instincts took over. It was her turn to give a satisfied grin. "Two can play at that," she said.
"I'm sure," he replied, leaning down to kiss her neck, as he pulled out and pressed back into her.
She decided that there would be time to talk later, and allowed herself to appreciate the sensation of him filling her completely.
Sequel to "The Journey Home." Ginny has finally come to terms with her grief, but much of her life remains in turmoil as a new mystery beckons her back to the one place she doesn't want to be, to find the key that will free her lover from his family's past mistakes.
A/N - as always, your reviews are welcomed and encouraged. When a writer posts a fic, it is giving you, the reader, a gift. Giving a review is like saying thank you to the gift.