5 glasses of punch and giggling madly Ginny seemed to realise it wasn't just the impeccable company (err namely Draco?) that was making her feel so light and giddy.

"This punch is spiked isn't it?"

"What? Oh erm...yea."

"Gred and Forge?"

"Huh? The twins? No why'd you sa-"

"Because they're Fred and George."

"Fine, fine. But since you're as drunk as I wished…"

"Hey! I am in complete control of myself ok? Sober as a fish finger." (And to prove her point she began laughing wildly and the thought of a shit-faced fish finger.)

"Sure you are, back to me. Now that you're 'sober as a fish finger' lets discuss about what time you'll be leaving home with me tonight.' At this Ginny gave off a 1/3 shocked, 1/3 offended and 1/3 amused look. Adorable.

"I was under the impression it was Blaise I was leaving with tonight!"

"Well obviously not. Its tradition for the bird to sleep with her bloke's best mate. Didn't you know?"

Now this conversation continued for some time in which the two discussed more traditions involving 'the bird and her bloke's best mate.' Draco once again surprised the little Weasley with his incredibly vulgar knowledge of such things, and his vocabulary. Which I highly doubt is appropriate for this story at the moment… so we'll just get to the seemingly PG areas. (A/N. sarcasm sarcasm sarcasm)

Ginny's POV.

His tongue was pressed against mine and his hands kept me hanging in the air pressed up against a wall with my legs wrapped around his waist. My own hands quickly unbuttoning his shirt that had been under the dinner jacket that was part of his dress robes, those and my stunning dress lay on the floor in a crumpled heap we were in a hurry.

His lips on my neck, my cheeks, my ears, my chest and my lips. Intoxicating

His long fingers fumbled with the clasp of my strapless bra, giving up he tore it open and latches pink lips onto my left breast. Fingers dancing over my hard nipples, partly from the cold. Partly from the pleasure. My eye travelled down to his toned, pale stomach and chest. My god, he is beautiful. Perfect and chiselled like a god. Fulfilling every fantasy that had crossed my mind for the past evening. His own hands unbuckled his belt and pushes his black pants over his hips, stepped out of them he walked them both away from the wall and layed me across the floor, cold stone pressed against my naked skin making me shiver. Propping up on my elbows I watched as his fumbled through his clothes to draw out his wand. Flicking it and muttering something I didn't catch and couldn't really care less about, I immediately found myself no longer on the cold floor but laying quite comfortably on a soft mattress. The same smirk that haunted me in school played on his lips as he looked down at me. For a moment or two, he just looked.

Draco's POV

Here I am, staring at the dirty ceiling of one of the many corridors I had walked in.

Here I am, staring at a beautiful red head sleeping quietly next to me.

Here I am, naked and exhausted and falling in love with that perfect red head.

Here I am, regretting regretting regretting.

Here I am, knowing it'll be Blaise she wakes up to tomorrow.

Here I am, aroused and sleepy and falling head over heels for that perfect red head.

She should be mine. Mine mine mine.