Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. Only this plot. Which is all mine.

A/N: Okay, so this fic is basically a big deal for me. The loss of a muse is a big thing, so in finishing this oneshot, I have accomplished a whole bunch. That means you should be proud of me.

It was written for mine and Haz's birthday challenge over at the DG Forum (link on my profile). The guidelines were that it must include misuse of public transport and it must be based around the statement: 'Any place else but here.'

Ghost of a Deity

I first noticed his hands, those long, slender fingers. Elegant, some would call them. He would stroke them over my skin - cool to touch, like smooth pebbles from the ice cold lake outside. And oh, how he knew how to use them. Butterfly touches to begin with: tantalising, freezing and almost invigorating strokes over every nerve in my body. He seemed to reach deep down inside of my bones and rattle them with his presence. And yet his touch was as soft as silk.

His voice would rumble out and tickle my ears. The words he spoke would flow into my being and blossom into something indescribable. Although he sounded gentle, the words would emanate a power held only by him. He would tell me what he was going to do to me next and I would shiver in anticipation. Yes, he held a power and used it against me to make me weak at the knees and turn my insides to liquid.

He was my deity.

Unforgettable.

"Ginny."

I looked up at Harry, embarrassed and appalled that my mind had drifted so far. I thought Draco's presence had finally vanished from my head, but, like the deity he was, he was omnipresent: always somewhere in the background, slipping forth in tiny reminders that seemed to take over and morph into something overpowering. He seemed to take every chance he got to derail my thoughts and remind me that I would have no other like him.

And it was true.

Clearing my throat, I attempted to mould my face into something nonchalant.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing into concern. "You look all flushed. Are you sick?"

Smiling tightly, I shook my head, answering with a firm, "No."

"Well, you should get checked out by Madam Pomfrey when we get to Hogwarts, just in case."

"Trust me," I said, attempting to reassure him with an animated smile and a light, forced laugh. "I feel perfectly fine."

He seemed to believe my lie as he nodded and leaned towards me, placing a lingering kiss on my lips. They were soft and smooth, as gentle as ever as he continued to kiss me, placing his hands in my hair. I kissed him back, feeling a sense of annoyance at how gentle he truly was. His lips - they irked me. No lips should be that soft, I thought with a muted frown. Draco's lips had always been rough, hard, powerful.

Deliciously taunting, I had once called them.

No, I shook myself back into the room, I'm kissing my boyfriend whom I like very much indeed.

But I couldn't help it - Draco, the memory of his taut body pressed against mine, teasingly trailing finger down my spine, whispering secrets into my ear oh-so-seductively.

Merlin! Why couldn't I just forget him?

Pulling away, I stood up, leaving a slightly flushed Harry on the seat.

"Where're you going?" he asked, frowning and clearing his throat at the same time.

"I . . . I need to use the loo," I answered and hastily retreated out of the compartment and down the opposite direction of the ladies toilets - down to where I knew Draco Malfoy would be located.

All the while, I continued to scold myself for being so weak.

Finding his usual compartment, I peered slightly around the corner, just wanting to catch a glimpse of him and leave straight away. My plan was foiled when I realised the only students located inside was Blaise Zabini and his new girlfriend, Mandy Brocklehurst, a wispy young Ravenclaw with rather large eyes.

A shiver raced across my skin as a derisive drawl curled around my ears. "Enjoying yourself, Miss Weasley?"

A small yelp escaped my lips at the shock of Draco standing right behind me. He should have been inside the compartment, oblivious to my deranged, stalker tactics.

"Uh, good morning, Draco." The small, foolish voice that came from my mouth made my already beet red cheeks flame even brighter.

"Yes . . . quite." Was his answer.

I could almost hear the smirk underneath his words.

The silence that followed his sharp reply was unbearable; it felt thick with my embarrassment and awkwardness seemed to steal over both of us (or at least it seemed that way). Looking at Draco, I realised he appeared quite comfortable, that smirk twinkling in his dull, metallic eyes, and his lips forced into a straight line - the one part of his face that didn't reveal his amusement.

"Well," I broke through the silence, keen to disappear. "I'm leaving. I've got better things to do than watch you gawking at me. Nice seeing you, Malfoy."

And with that, I hastily strode past him, with what I hoped was an air of importance, wincing as my arm brushed gently against his.

It was at that moment he pulled me back, gripping my arm - not with force, but with that silent power he used so easily. Shoving me roughly into an empty compartment, he stalked towards me and pressed me against the opposing wall, his body as hard as ever, melding into mine.

Before I could push him away and begin to question him profusely, his lips were upon mine. They exploded with the sensation of his rough, unkempt and simply overwhelming kiss. Once again, I was under his spell: insides turned to liquid, head full of his presence - Draco the deity, all powerful, all knowing.

And then he was gone and I was left swaying slightly, forcing my eyes open to see where he had gone. He was sitting on one side of the compartment, a nonchalant expression across his face, acting as if we hadn't just been snogging up against a wall. Inside the Hogwarts Express. With my boyfriend just a few compartments down the track.

"What . . ." I caught my breath again, gulping air into my lungs in preparation for my anger. "What in the bloody hell was that?" I stormed, glaring at Draco hotly.

"What you wanted," he answered simply.

I scoffed loudly, rolling my eyes while silently cursing him for having truth in those words of his.

"I never asked-"

"Of course you didn't. But why else would you come venturing down to this end of the train, where you know I always am each year?" he raised one supercilious eyebrow and I couldn't help but feel myself close to whimpering at the sight of such an alluring expression. "You're very predictable, Ginny."

"Draco, I can assure you, I did not come down here to see you," I fumbled, attempting to think up an excuse before he asked me.

Instead of questioning me, however, he stood up and moved towards me. Once again, we were against the wall, his body pressed into mine. Expecting his kiss, I lowered my head, attempting to move my lips away from his.

I then felt his lips against my ear. Like a cool, Autumn breeze, his voice flowed out and caressed my senses.

"You remember, don't you, Ginevra?" he began, softly holding me.

I wanted to wriggle out of his touch, to run away from his words, but my legs didn't seem to work and I stood completely still, my eyes drifting closed.

"You remember the way I touched you on those long nights in the Room of Requirement?"

I felt his hands move to my back, his fingers beginning their slow descent down my spine, forcing a shiver through my body as I listened to his whispers.

"You remember what I said before you went running back to Potter?"

I scrunched up my nose as he continued to skim light fingers down my back, his low murmur but a purr in my ear. A feeling of foreboding fell upon me, as I realised what he was going to say.

"I told you, Ginevra, you'll never find anyone like me. You'll never experience such pleasure and longing as you did throughout that year that we had together. You'll always be . . . unsatisfied."

I shook my head weakly, wanting to shake off his words. I knew they were true, however, and I felt defeated.

Then his lips were on my bones: my jawline first - soft, longing kisses, moving into deeper, more passion filled ones that moved down to my collarbone. My body ached for him to continue; it responded like never before - probably from weeks of neglect from this boy who was upon my body. Months of built up frustration from the gentle, irksome touch of Harry Potter.

"It doesn't feel the same, does it, Ginevra? His kiss will never feel the same compared to mine. Come and find me when that desire appears again," Draco murmured, and suddenly, just like before, his presence was gone. Before I could open my eyes once again, I heard the compartment door slide open and his footsteps disappear. All that was left in this tiny room was the sound of the countryside rolling by, the train rumbling on, the students on the train oblivious to my want, to my need that had already appeared again.

Walking in a daze back to my boyfriend, I slipped back into his arms and breathed him in, attempting to feel the love I had once felt for him. His kiss upon my forehead - that weak, pathetic, gentle kiss - made one thought come to my mind: I wish I were anyplace else but here.

So, this didn't really turn out the way I expected - when I first began this I was thinking humour. But, things don't usually turn out the way you want them, right?

A big thank you to Roma (cadaverousapples) for being my very . . . interesting beta. Amongst her countless insults, she did help a lot.

Also: happy birthday, Haz.

Peace out.

~Porsh