A/N: first D/G…I always wanted to write 'em but never got bored/angsty enough. This is pure randomness 1:20AM, derived from sheer lack of willpower to study for finals which start in two days. :dies:
Disclaimer: Neither character is mine.
Firewhiskey and rum. Vodka and gin. He had access to it all but he drank very little.
"The gin burns your throat, you know."
"Then why do people drink it?" she asked innocently. Even at seventeen, she was quite innocent. Well, innocent enough as was possible for a girl who was blindly in love with someone like Draco Malfoy.
"You burn my lips and my fingertips," he smiled wickedly, "yet I still want you."
Once, late at night when every Weasley was asleep but one, he would apparate into her room.
"Close the doors, Draco," she whispered warily. "I'm not supposed to be with you."
"Oh my dear," he'd whisper back, very very affectionately, "it doesn't matter."
But it does. You're the last thing any Weasley but one would want in this place.
"I don't understand why a faerie like you has to live in such a…" he trailed off as he saw a little fire light up in her eyes. Fire that had nothing to do with desire.
He didn't come back again.
Corruption and vice. Wickedness and sin. He personified it all. And yet she still loved him.
"Don't look at me like that, angel, with such admiration in your eyes. I'm really not as grand as you think." He'd let out a low chuckle, but she only absorbed one word he said.
"For some one who doesn't believe in angels, you sure talk of them a lot, Draco."
"I do believe in one," and he gave her a trace of a kiss, touch and go, nothing more, nothing less. "But you have to admit, isn't the devil much more attractive than holy creatures?"
"Hmm…" she was pretending to think.
"The taste of sin is inescapable, darling. Even you know this."
If it weren't for his dazzling smile, she would have retorted. As it was, she remained mesmerized, by his face, by his voice. For the moment anyway. His love was like blindness, Lethe like no other. It took a great deal of effort to be able to think clearly in his presence, and Ginevra Weasley tried her best. She managed to mumble, "and my sin is loving you?"
"Your sin is giving into temptation. But don't fret. It's a problem with the rest of the population as well."
"And you're excluded from that population, I suppose?" She was verging on cold sarcasm now, not knowing if it was deliberate or not. Over the last little while, it had almost become second-nature to make wry remarks even thought a part of her was desperate to be on his good side. It oddly worked in her favour because he loved a girl with an edge. If she didn't question him – no matter how rarely – he would most likely think her a stupid girl.
"Excluded? Of course not. You are my temptation after all."
That kind of talk was what everything came down to. He knew how to talk her into and out of everything ultimately. And that was her greatest failing. He, on the other hand, had no perceivable flaw. She may have been a temptation for him, but she was definitely not his weakness. The worstwas probablythat she knew it.
They sat in the snow one windy day, great billowing black robes around them both. It was like sitting in a swirling snowglobe.
"Let's go inside, Draco."
"Why? Too cold for the little Weasle?" he'd semi-tease, but a taunting understone was obvious.
Yes, it was too cold. But she wouldn't respond, wouldn't admit it, especially not after what he had called her. Gathering herself and standing up, she walked away silently.
"Oh Ginevra," she heard him call after her, voice almost soothing.
Oh Malfoy…you pushed it.
"What was wrong with you yesterday?"
"Yesterday?"
"Yes. You left me in the cold."
He was trying to sound cute again, but she wouldn't buy it. She said nothing.
"Because I asked if you were cold? That was very silly."
It wasn't because he'd asked, instead, it was the way in which he'd asked.
"Why won't you speak to me? You really are being quite childish."
Her father used to say that too. And her mother had told her that the immaturity was a curse that went hand-in-hand with being a redhead and being a Weasley. It seemed to skip over Percy though.
"Gin, darling. What's wrong?"
She could wait forever and he wouldn't apologize. He was a stinking Slytherin. A bloody Malfoy. She didn't know why she ever doubted her brothers.
Instead of turning to apologize, his temper began to rise…very predictable, of course. "Fine then, be a dumb little fool!"
"You used to buy me roses, Malfoy," she spoke very calmly.
"So?"
"You used to be my angel, Malfoy."
"Draco used to be your angel," he said firmly, realizing for the first time today that she had used his surname.
"Draco and Malfoy. Both of you…you're the same. And neither of you believe in angels."
"What nonsense. Go lie down Gin. You're obviously not well."
"I'm well enough. Well enough to have put up with you anyway. It's too cold to lie down. So cold that even you can't keep me warm."
She saw him shoot her a glare. "You're insane."
"You make me wish I was. Leave me!" she hissed, throwing a glass of icy water on his face. "Rot in hell Malfoy. It'll be nice and warm."
"No thank you, I like it here."
"No Draco. Gin can't keep you warm anymore."
A/N: Subtle emotional abuse...although I think at one point I felt that she was the one abusing him(?) LOL let's just say that I'm sick of helpless Ginny fics, even though I'll probably end up writing some…lol anyway, even though we all know it's crap, review plz :P