O Virtue in Deed Chapter 1

Ginny:

He is kissing the side of my neck as I run my fingers lightly up the back of his shirt. As he hits a particularly sweet spot with his tongue, pleasurable shivers run down my spine and I thread my fingers through his platinum blonde hair, not caring if I mess up his perfect hair, throw my head back and pull him closer.

Then I feel as much as see in my mind's eye his teeth flash out and bite my neck, hard. My eyes instantly fly open and I jump and push him away from me, frowning. "What the fuck, Malfoy?" I hiss at him. He only comes closer, one eyebrow raised and that infuriatingly superior smirk on his perfect face. He doesn't say anything, so I relent and rub at the offending spot.

I can already feel the blood welling up under my skin. It really doesn't help that I bruise easily.

His long arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him. Then he smiles down at me. I can already feel myself yielding in response to him. God. I wing up a prayer to the only being who can help me now.

Harry is on an Auror mission, again, for some reason that he can't tell even me, again, and I can't contact him, again. I wonder for the millionth time whether I would even be consorting with his worst enemy if he were around more. I know I'm being selfish, but then again, you only live once.

Draco's fingers start wandering up my thigh, pulling me back to the present. I move back for a moment and look into his extraordinary molten silver eyes.

Then, he does something completely out of character: he leans his forehead against mine. It is so uncharacteristic a gesture, almost intimate- it takes all I have not to start and flinch away from him. Malfoys are not intimate, especially this one. He is, by rule, cold and sneering. Judging by our previous encounters, he is also conniving, positively animalistic, rough... and possesses an intelligence that could cut diamonds.

Possibly realizing what he's just done, Draco moves away, and not kisses me on the lips but bites me sharply on my lower lip. In the next split second, he pulls out his wand, and in one fluid motion, turns on the spot and disapparates.

I throw my hands up in the air and let a stream of expletives escape my lips. Then I pick up my wand, turn to the mirror and look at the mark on my neck. It is angry and red. Sighing, I poke it with my wand and watch it vanish instantly. Not for the first time, I wish I could keep it. Then I hear a crack of apparation in my living room. I peek out, still holding my wand, still hoping it's Draco.

No such luck. And not a moment too soon, it seems, for Harry stands in front of my fireplace, smiling warmly at me. His face freezes at the sight of my wand. "Expecting someone?" he asks suspiciously.

"Of course not!" I stow it in my jeans, cross to the fireplace, and practically fling myself into his arms. He kisses my face, ears, neck and finally, hands.

"It's so good to see you, sweetheart." he whispers in my ear. I just hold him tighter. Usually, I am raring to go. But in view of recent events, all I want to do is cuddle with him for fifteen straight hours. I wonder how long he has, this time.

It's not that I don't love him. I do, immensely, deeply. And that is the reason why I never want him to find out about his perfect little girlfriend and his worst enemy.

I'm in deep shit, aren't I?

Draco:

What the hell?

I apparate straight into my room at the Manor.

Then, I sit down on my bed. Fingers rubbing absently at my black satin sheets, I idly remember her hair spread like a spray of fire over my black satin pillowcase. Beauty at its finest. Her skin is pale and smooth as marble, her eyes... Her eyes...

I mentally slap myself. I'm a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Not Colin Creevey. I can't be fawning all over a Weasley.

I mean, what would my parents say? Besides, I shudder to think of Theo and Blaise's reactions. This can never get out.

Did I really lean my forehead against hers? Like some fucking cheesy Muggle romance movie? Merlin's pants. I am Draco fucking Malfoy. My parents worked for the darkest wizard of all time. My late father tried to kill the woman I'm sleeping with when she was a first-year. My aunt is a demented, sadistic madwoman whose favourite word is Crucio. Inheritance made me richer than God Himself.

And if anyone's got swag, it's me.

To think that I just did... What I did. (I can't even say it.) To a Weasley, no less...

I'll just plead momentary insanity. That works, right?

Oh, dear. I'll have to leave the country.

Where's my broomstick?

Ginny:

"'Mione," I begin, and then stop, because I don't really know how to go on.

We have some time to ourselves in my apartment, finally, to do girly things and do shots of Firewhiskey, and whatnot. Currently, I am trying to tame her bushy hair with this new spell I found. Sometimes, I suspect that her hair was hit by some sort of sleekness-repelling curse during the Golden Trio's many skirmishes with the Prince of Slytherin and his cronies.

Five seconds, and my mind is back to the topic of Draco Malfoy.

He can't just leave me alone, can he?

Fucking great.

Anyway, Hermione is looking at my reflection in the mirror with a curious expression. "Yes, Ginny?" she says, and then turns all the way around.

Am I really about to ask her for advice?

I guess I haven't a choice. Look at who's around me, for Merlin's sake. I can't ask any of my brothers this, especially not Ron. I'm sure as hell not talking to my Mum about this. Neville's definitely out, since Dra- Malfoy made his life a living hell while we were in school. And Luna... well, she's Luna.

So I'm just left with Hermione. Oh, well. Here goes.

"Uhm, I kind of have a problem. See I'm dating Harry, right? But he's not around all the time and there's this other guy..." I clamp my mouth shut on the last word.

She just looks at me. I can't read her expression. Then she says, "Aren't you and Harry pretty serious, Gin?"

Thank you Captain Obvious. And I thought she was supposed to be the smart one.

Then her face changes; she has that look on her face when she figures out a difficult spell ahead of the rest of the class. "Oh my goodness, you're sleeping with him, aren't you?" she gasps. She looks horrified. What do I say now?

I think my face matches my hair as I drop my wand into my lap, look at it and give a non-committal little grunt.

When I finally look up again, Hermione has her thumbnail between her teeth and is looking at me. "What are you going to do?" she says, seriously.

"I don't know..." I half-squeak. "It kind of just happened, because I was lonely, and Harry isn't here and... it's all just a big mess, 'Mione." It comes out in a rush of words.

She bites the inside of her cheek. "You know, I think I kind of understand. It's not Harry's fault, you know."

My cheeks flame. Of course, I'm the slut.

"No, no," she says quickly, seeing my expression change. "I'm not saying it's your fault. You guys have been together a long while, and you're a beautiful girl. I know it's hard to stay true, especially with Harry gone a lot. I get it. Who is he?"

This is why I love Hermione. She's never judgemental, when it comes to me. And I know I can trust her, although she is also my boyfriend's best friend.

So, with that information in mind, I'm going to tell her. And hope she doesn't hex me to hell and back. "Draco Malfoy," I whisper so softly I don't think she catches it.

There is a moment of silence so loud that my ears hurt.

"Draco Malfoy?" She screeches. "But... but his father tried to kill you!"

I nod mutely, move to my bed and sit down on it.

"He has called me a Mudblood-"I cringe, "more times than your family reproduces!"

Again, I nod mutely.

"His father works for the man that murdered your boyfriend's parents!"

I sigh. She moves to sit beside me on the bed.

"But... but why?" she looks at me, absolutely incredulous, and I almost regret telling her. Almost. At least she didn't storm off. That, I am grateful for.

"Hermione, I know you guys have bad blood..." I trail off and then realize what I've just said. I look at her, mortified. "No offense! I just meant-"

She holds up her hand and shakes her head. "None taken." And although she can't quite muster up a smile still, I know she means it. "Please continue."

I bite my lip. "And although his father is all of the things that you've said, he is nothing like him. Please believe me when I say that he is no Death Eater. He's... actually really charming, devilishly handsome, and has cutthroat intelligence."

Her face looks neutral now, so I assume it's safe to joke. "And he's a Pureblood..." I add, tossing my hair affectedly. She laughs, startled, but genuine.

She gathers herself and tries again. "But, Gin, he's a Malfoy. You know what they say, you can take the boy out of the Manor but you can't take the Malfoy out of the boy."

I put my head on my pillow and rake my hair back tiredly with my fingernails. "I know, 'Mione. I've been talking to him recently, though, and we have other conversations besides... you know." I blush again. "And do they really say that?"

She flops on her belly beside me and starts using her wand to change the colours of my toenails. Just as she starts to say something, I hear the pop of someone in my Floo network. "Hold on a second," I say. I grab my wand and look into my living room.

His absurdly handsome face is in my fire. "Not a good time, Weasley?" he asks, spotting the wand in my hand. Oh, no. I forgot to tell him that tonight is no good.

"All right, Granger?" he calls over my shoulder. I turn to find Hermione's curious face behind me. "Uhm," I mutter.

"Malfoy," she says, in a curt voice and nods. Then she heads back to my bed.

I look back at him, and find that I don't know what to say. But before I can come up with anything, he looks me up and down and takes in my boxers and tiny camisole and general state of undress. "Well, don't let me keep you," he says, and smirk #711 crosses his face. There is a tiny pop, and the flames are orange once more.

I turn back to my bedroom to find Hermione looking at me with a kind of composed incredulity. "Erm..." I say, very eloquently.

"He didn't call me Mudblood," she says, with quiet disbelief.

Now, I wouldn't say that Dra-Malfoy has changed, or anything. No, he still floats around with that arrogant smirk on his handsome face, and he can come up with a thousand snitty comebacks in the time that I take to say hello.

However, Hermione's right. He's still Malfoy.

I look at her, and she still has that bemused look on her face.

It's really ill-suiting to Hermione's normal know-it-all aura.

Really, if I weren't in shit up to my eyebrows, I'd find this quite amusing.

Draco:

Does she have to waltz around her bloody apartment half-naked, honestly?

I am currently lying face down on my bed. And a Malfoy would never be in such an unglamorous position, but I'm trying to suppress something.

I give up and turn right side up. Unbuttoning my black satin dress pants (zips are too Muggle), I close my eyes and pull my swiftly hardening length out.

Hair that glows like fire, alabaster skin, and that freckle on the very tip of her nose...

I am starting to really get into it when I heard a deafening crack in my room. Hurriedly trying to tuck myself back into my pants, I look round. There is a hasty squeak that could only be one of the House Elves. "Sorry, Master Draco!" and by the time I turn, the Elf has already disappeared.

I abandon my task of stuffing my rapidly wilting cock back into its home and curse loudly to myself. Being not able to even tell which House Elf it was means I don't know which one to Obliviate. Or kill.

Fuck!

I have to see her. Immediately.