Intoxicated

Ginny slowly opened her eyes. Bright, early morning sunshine poured through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating patterns of dancing dust in the space between the floor and the ceiling. A slight breeze drifted in through the top window, which was open. The crisp air Ginny could feel on her face told her that the day would be just perfect for playing quidditch, and that thought alone would usually have been enough to get Ginny up and out of bed. This morning, however, she had woken with the most painful headache she'd ever experienced. She shut her eyes tightly, partly to keep the light out and partly to see if squeezing them shut would help her head. It didn't. In fact, it made it worse. A sudden lightning bolt of pain shot around her eyes and settled as a dull ache over the bone under her eyebrow. Ginny groaned in pain and frustration and rolled over. It was then that she realised she was not alone in the bed.

With her eyes still shut she straightened herself out under the quilt so that no part of her was touching the body lying next to her. Now that she had acknowledged the person's presence she could clearly hear them breathing in and out as they slept. She still didn't know who the dreaming stranger was, and she really didn't feel like checking. She rolled over to the edge of the bed, taking care not to pull the blankets off her 'guest'. Before she could even place one foot on the ground, however, the person beside her threw out his bare arm and trapped her beneath it. Either they weren't really asleep or they were a violent sleeper. Ginny looked at the arm. It lay heavily on her stomach. It was pale, almost bone white, and covered in fine blonde hairs. There were barely any blemishes on it; it was perfect. She could see a hand attached to it, with long, slender fingers and perfectly shaped nails. She tried to push the arm off her, still refusing to look at the person it belonged to.

Vague images of the night before were returning to her head. The party. Oh, Merlin, the party! She had been in the kitchen, helping her mother. The whole family had been there, Harry and Hermione as well. And the remainder of the Order. Members of the old DA club had also been invited. It had been a victory party, celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord.

The arm wouldn't move. She soon realised that the tapered fingers were gripping tight to the mattress. She closed her eyes again, trying to remember the night before.

She had been setting the food out on the china plates; the flower patterned ones because it was a special occasion. Bill had arrived with Fleur and baby Victoire. Everyone had cooed over her. It was happy. It was fun. It was- It had begun to get rowdy, hadn't it?

Ginny let out a soft groan. The body beside her twitched, but the person didn't wake up.

She remembered the alcohol, in barrels, and her mum drinking and sobbing over Fred's death, and Hermione and Ron and Harry so happy and so drunk. And herself; tipsy at first and then gradually, or maybe not so gradually, becoming more and more intoxicated. And then the Slytherins had crashed the party, bitterly shouting and swearing. And then somehow, they were invited as well, and everyone was partying together. And then the hazy images of her heading up the rickety stairs formed in her mind, of someone following her up. Of- Oh Merlin!

Ginny finally looked at the person lying next to her. Draco Malfoy's slate grey eyes stared up at her.
"You take a long time waking up," he commented. "I've been lying here for ages."
"What- What are you doing in my bed, Malfoy?" she asked. Then she clutched her head and groaned as her headache reminded her of its presence.
"You invited me here, Weasley." He laughed at the expression of pain on her face but then realised that he had a headache of his own to deal with. He wrinkled his pointed nose as he attempted to ignore the pounding. Ginny got out of the bed, shivering as her bare feet made contact with the cold floor.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked as she dug a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out from her oak chest of drawers.
"Same as what's wrong with you."
"Oh, I have a potion for headaches," said Ginny almost cheerfully. She abandoned the clothes and began searching the top of the dresser, dressed as she was in a vest and knickers.
"There's only one cure for hangovers," Draco informed her. "Come and get back into bed, love, and we'll have another drink."
"There's none left."
"I left some under the bed last night, just in case I was still here by morning" – he smirked – "and what do you know, I was right to be prepared.
Ginny bent down and checked.
"You're right, there is." She pulled out a couple of bottles of fire whiskey and tossed one of them onto the bed for Draco.
"But stingy, aren't you, love? Bring it all out."
As Ginny placed the rest of the bottle onto the bed (there were six in total) she noted that Draco had called her 'love' twice. She couldn't tell whether he was still drunk, or if he had been using it sarcastically. Her head hurt when she tried to think though, so she simply climbed back into bed, pulling the quilt up to hide her underwear. Draco opened a bottle. Ginny was aware of how bizarre the situation was, but if she didn't think about it then it would all sort itself out, wouldn't it?

"So..." slurred Ginny as they opened yet another bottle. "So, last night..."
"You really, really don't want to know. And you have such a low alcohol tol- You get drunk quickly."
"You're not exact- exactly sober yourself."
"You should have seen you last night." He took another swig of fire whiskey and then giggled.
"Did we- I mean- You know-"
"Don't worry," said Draco, smirking. "I didn't let you."
"Didn't let me- Did I?"
"Yes, you came onto me. You wanted it so bad."
Ginny blushed from embarrassment.
"But you didn't?" she asked, her head spinning, either from Draco's announcement or the alcohol; she couldn't tell which. Probably both.
"I couldn't get my host's only daughter pregnant, could I?"
"But you wanted to?" asked Ginny desperately.
"What do you want me to say? That I didn't want to shag the pretty little red head who was so needily coming onto me? Or that I wanted to sleep with you simply because you were coming on to me, but decided not to because you're a Weasley?"
"No, I-" Ginny mumbled, confused. "I just-" There was a pause. "I just hoped-"

At that point the door swung open, hitting off the wall with a loud bang. Ginny jumped.
"You heard of knocking?" she yelled.
"Ginny! Mum wants you- What the hell is he doing here?"
Ginny focussed her eyes on the figure in the doorway.
"Ron?" she asked.
Ron rolled his eyes.
"You're drunk," he stated.
"Weasley," slurred Draco. "What are you doing, barging in?"
"This is my house, Malfoy," said Ron coldly.
"We didn't-" mumbled Ginny. "It's not-"
"What it seems?" asked Ron. Before anyone could reply, someone else burst into the bedroom.
"Ron, you said you'd- Malfoy?" Harry exclaimed. He hovered behind Ron, feeling like he was intruding. Ron reached behind him and clutched at Harry's hand. Harry could almost feel the anger radiating off him.
"Shush," said Harry, pulling him into a hug.
"Malfoy's in bed with my sister," stated Ron. He seemed shocked, unable to comprehend the situation. "And they're drunk."
"I assure you, Weasley," said Draco, "your sister was the one who came onto me."
"It doesn't change what you did!" shouted Ron. Harry clutched at him tighter.
"Calm down, please," he begged. "I'm sure it isn't that bad."
"We didn't have- We didn't have sex," slurred Ginny.
"Well, that's sorted then," said Harry, relieved. "Come on, Ron, let's play quidditch."
Ron pulled his arm out of Harry's grasp.
"No! Don't you get it? That's Malfoy. Malfoy, Harry. Malfoy with Ginny!"
"The war's over now," said Harry. "There aren't any sides to fight on."
Ginny had been watching this exchange carefully.
"If you tell mum about me and Draco, then... then... then I'll tell her about you and Harry!" she said triumphantly to her older brother. Both Harry and Ron blushed bright red.
"Fine," said Ron angrily. He marched out of the room. Harry was about to follow, but before he did he turned to Ginny.
"You'd better sober up. Both of you. Mrs Weasley'll have a fit if she sees you in that state."

Ginny turned to Draco, who leaned in and surprised her with a gentle kiss.
"You want to know why I didn't sleep with you?" he asked. Ginny nodded. "Well," said Draco. "I like you better than that."

This time, she kissed him back.

The End

Prompt: Ginny wakes to find Draco lying in her bed next to her... (Go on from there loves. Try not to make anything too incredibly perverse.)

Pairing: ...Honestly? D/G of course!

Word Count: Flexible. Try to keep it under 10,000 words though.

Rating: I don't see how this prompt could be anything lower than T...

No no's: Harry/Hermione, or any Draco/Anyone but Ginny. OC characters...NO OC characters. :)

Bonus Points: If Ginny and Draco are drunk, if Ron and/or Harry catches them in bed together, or if you can make the story rating lower than T and it still interesting enough.

Deadline: January 31, 2011 :)