A/N: The adult content of the M rating comes in a bit more this chapter as the nature of the story calls for scenes that go beyond strictly PG-13 fade-to-black but won't be straying into full blown NC-17 smut either (which technically ffnet doesn't allow), so if the latter is not your thing, I think you'll still be able to enjoy this story.


- Chapter 2 -

No other worries or troublesome memories occupied Ginny's mind as she stirred from sleep. Her groggy consciousness had banished them all—everything outside of the immediate present, which momentarily consisted of nothing more than what her waking senses took in.

Smell registered first, filling her mind with the heady scent of an intimately familiar cologne.

Draco.

She relaxed at the recognition, feeling none of the disorientation that normally assaulted her upon waking up in a strange bed, no matter how common an occurrence that circumstance had become.

Astounding, really, how comfortable I've grown around him.

For a moment longer, she kept her eyes closed and her mind carefully blank, wallowing in the temporary peace. She could feel the solid weight of Draco's limbs still draped around her, from his long, silk-pajama-clad legs scissored between her own to the arm welded around her waist, his hand still exerting a slight pressure on her back, even in sleep. His quiet, steady breathing was the only other sound filling her ears.

With reluctance, she opened her eyes. The smooth curve of Draco's pale neck greeted her sight, and the urge to snuggle closer and kiss his bare skin was near irresistible. Powerless as if before a Summoning Charm, her gaze was next drawn to his exposed chest, his pajama top having been discarded entirely. Curse him and his mighty fine physique. He was too attractive for her own good, a far cry from the scrawny, pointed-face git of her early school years.

She'd once teasingly asked him about his newfound fitness as she languidly kissed her way down the contours of his firm stomach. "Fess up, Malfoy. How are you hiding your skinny arse self?"

She'd glanced up to catch his reaction and giggled when his hum of pleasure halted and he glared at her, brows knitted with impatience.

"I think there are far more interesting matters at the moment to concern yourself with, Ginny," he huffed.

She loved that she had that power over him, that his sheer physical need for her could subsume his usual need to be in control, to appear aloof and unconcerned.

She certainly hadn't been the bottom pick at Hogwarts, yet the fear of being unwanted had been nearly suffocating after...never mind that now. It didn't matter in the end. Whoever she wanted for the night, she got, while other witches and Muggle women looked on with envy and judgment she couldn't care less about...not anymore.

It was another sort of intoxication altogether to feel desirable and know she was desired, all the more potent when the person in question had no end of reasons to find her repulsive. Maybe that was why she found herself drawn to Draco time and time again, aside from the assured promise of carnal pleasure at the end of an entertaining evening battling with his wit and snark. That and the fact that he could be trusted to keep a cool head about it. No need to worry about annoying emotional ties lashing at her.

Unbidden, the memory of their first proper shag drifted back to her. She'd jerked awake afterwards, her body a ball of tightly wound nerves. She'd never meant to fall asleep and certainly not for long enough to allow the sun to creep into the rented room, painting blooms of red across her clenched eyelids. Nervousness shot up and down her spine at the feeling of some line having been irreversibly crossed, but maybe if she left before he woke, it would be as if it had never happened. But when she cautiously moved to untangle herself from his limbs, he moved as well. She froze, heart pounding hard enough for her to feel the reverberations high in her throat, but he'd immediately grown still. With a quiet exhale of relief, she tried again; simultaneously, his body shifted. She stopped, and so did he.

Hesitatingly, she cracked open her eyes only to find him comically doing the same. Their mutual stare went on for a long, unceasing moment—flickering through emotions undecipherable even to themselves before his lips twitched and hers quivered, and they burst into spontaneous laughter. She didn't quite understand why but there was something hilarious and reassuring in the fact that they'd both been determined to make the first exit.

Draco recovered first and rolled leisurely on top of her while she attempted to muffle her lingering giggles against his neck.

"Tsk, tsk. You ought to know better, Weasley. Malfoys do the ditching. Never the other way around," he said in mock sternness. The rumble of his voice, deeper than usual from sleep, did something for her, all right. She tilted her head back on the mattress, matching his amused gaze with her own.

"So leave then. What's keeping you?" she asked, smirking as she slid her bare knee slowly upwards between them.

His breath hitched. Grey eyes brightened and pierced hers with unabashed lust, all traces of sleep gone in a flash. As she stared back, she'd been certain then that there was nothing to fear. They could have physical intimacy without any sordid emotional baggage attached. This was Draco Malfoy, after all. He would never demand or even want what she couldn't, wouldn't give. No expectations. No promises. No chances of anyone getting hurt. It would all be fine and good. Very good.

So when he gently bit down on her shoulder, Ginny had curled her fingers into his sleek hair and held him close as he slid into her. A sincere smile stole across her lips as she sighed and closed her eyes in bliss. This wasn't the frantic, furious coupling of the night before. It was slow and lingering, a savoring of the senses rather than a guilty binge. They moved together as if they had all the time in the world and no consequences to worry about. True, there was an exhilaration and glorious white-hot pleasure in indulging in passions born of fury and urgency, but this...this was equally satisfying in its own way. She had felt at peace in that moment, a feeling that came to her all too rarely back then and still even now.

Heaven help me, I think I actually missed the bastard.

Not that she'd thought much about him this past month. He usually only flashed through her mind when a particularly bad come-on made her wish he'd been present to crack her up with his snarky commentary. Then again, it didn't even feel like that long since she last saw him. Time moved rapid as waterfalls these days; mornings and nights flowed seamlessly into one another, indistinguishable from the next.

An exhaustion deeper than that borne of a sleepless night tugged her eyelids closed again.

I'm tired of it all, to be honest.

Maybe this was exactly what she'd needed—a place where she could relax without being judged for what the hell she was doing with her life, a calming space and time to recoup her energy and clear her head in order to figure out what to do next. Her subconscious apparently knew her all too well to have suggested Malfoy's place.

Or maybe not. She opened her eyes and sighed at the man lying in front of her. Somehow she doubted he'd let her rest much while she stayed under his roof. Though speaking of which...she turned in his embrace and felt Draco tighten his grip on her while still deep in sleep judging by his unchanging breathing pattern.

Ginny sniggered softly. She would've never pinned him for the type, but Draco had proved to be awfully fond of cuddling. Straining against his hold, she craned her neck to make out the clock on the mantel across from her side of the bed. One o'clock, read the dial.

Strange that he wasn't up yet. Draco was typically an early riser, the one to nuzzle her awake for another go before he had to leave or to leave her a cheeky goodbye note if he decided to be generous (as he proclaimed) and allowed her to sleep longer. And unlike her, this time, he certainly hadn't pulled an all-nighter.

With a frown, she squirmed up higher in the bed and shook his shoulder. "Draco?"

He mumbled groggily, and she shook him again. His eyelids fluttered open, grey eyes widening at the sight of her. "You're really here," he said, his sleep-laced voice no more than a whisper.

She arched a bemused eyebrow. "Obviously. What's the matter? Regretting it so soon?"

"As if," he scoffed with his customary scowl before rapidly switching to a smirk. "You're not getting off the hook that easily. What kind of a Malfoy would I be..." He leaned forward and hotly breathed the rest of the question into her ear. "...if I didn't collect on a debt? Hmm?" His hand slipped down to caress the back of her thighs, gradually inching up past the short skirt she still wore from last night.

Same old Draco as always. Bless his perverse heart.

"Draco," she replied sweetly, placing her hand over his advancing one to still its movement, "don't ever change." To his protest, she sat up fully, extracting his hand from under her skirt before stretching with a yawn.

He huffed beside her, agitation transparent in his features. "You know what shouldn't change either? Us. A bed. So why on earth are we not naked?"

She reached down to playfully pat his cheek, too easily amused by his deepening pout. "Housemate, remember?" She had no intention to enforce her rule in earnest, not with Draco, but having this hold over him was too glorious to give in so soon. No doubt he'd manage to convince her eventually, but in the moment, the need for a bath and food trumped all else. Her stomach declared its agreement with a resounding grumble.

With an exaggerated sigh, Draco sat up as well. "What do you want to eat? We'll have to get it from outside. Bibsy's a terrible cook, and Mother wanted Lindy for—" He paused and swore. At her questioning stare, he explained, "It slipped my mind. I'm supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight."

"Is it that torturous to eat with them?" That's surprising. She'd always been under the impression that he was close to his family. Not that she was one to talk. Mealtimes at the Burrow these days made her reach for her wand and a ready excuse. And after last night, would they even—

Draco's response thankfully interrupted her pointless thoughts. "No, that's not what I meant. It's just that—"Again he cut himself off.

What was up with him today? She touched his shoulder with mild concern. "Everything okay? First you sleep well into the afternoon, which I meant to ask you about by the way. And now you're stuttering."

"I don't stutter," he replied indignantly, and she had to quash the giggles threatening to burst out.

"And the sleeping in late?"

Abruptly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up to walk towards the en suite bathroom. A highly suspicious evasive maneuver, she noted, but appreciated all the same the pleasant view it presented of his backside—all toned muscle disappearing enticingly into the low slung trousers.

"I wasn't able to sleep last night either," he threw over his shoulder.

She laughed and got up to follow him. "Well, obviously. It's not like I don't know from personal experience, but you usually manage to wake up uncannily early anyway."

He immediately spun to face her, annoyance etched in frown lines across his forehead. "I wish," he muttered and then more forcefully, "but no, not that kind of sleepless night. I know what it looked like this morning, but none of that went on yesterday."

She stopped in astonishment. "Wait, wait. So you're telling me that you, Draco Malfoy, had a willing woman in your bed and you didn't have your wicked way with her?"

"Shocking, I know, but contrary to your mistaken assumptions I don't just—what are you doing?" he asked as she walked over to the nearest window.

"Checking to see if the sky is falling," she replied innocently.

Seconds later something solid though soft collided with her back. "Ow!" she yelped more out of surprise than actual pain and turned around to find the offending object, a fluffy white slipper, lying near her feet. Draco had disappeared into the bathroom.

She went in after him, chuckling. "Careful there. I think my 'crass violent tendencies' are starting to rub off on you, Mr. Superior-Self-Control."

He chucked an unopened toothbrush at her, which she caught with a Chaser's reflex, but otherwise ignored her. With a triumphant grin, she let the next few moments pass in wordless silence as they went through their morning routine. It wasn't the first time they'd done so simultaneously in the same bathroom, and by now, not a shred of awkwardness remained.

"Honestly, Ginny, I've seen all of you and more," he'd said back then with an eye roll at her insistence that he leave the bathroom. "Not to mention you suck at fake coyness." She'd paid him back by leaving him in the shower at the height of his arousal, for which he in turn dished out punishment. Though could one really call it punishment if she'd enjoyed it thoroughly?

It still feels surreal in a way, she thought as she opened her mouth to let the self-operating toothbrush go to work while Draco took a leak only a few feet away, like we're some old married couple who are shamelessly comfortable around each other. The thought replayed in her head. Married with Draco. Hilarious. Now there's a sky-is-falling scenario for you.

As she perched on the edge of the enormous tub, waiting for it to fill with lavender-scented water, Draco leaned against the marble counters across from her and simply stared.

Knowing it was up to her to break the silence, Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was willing to speak up, anyway, still terribly curious as to what had kept him up last night. The same thing she expected that had him turn down the harpy from this morning, though the idea of Draco turning down sex remained inconceivable to her. It had to be something big, but, she thought with a frown, hopefully not something particularly bad.

"Okay, fess up. What's eating at you? I know you likely think any advice I'd have to offer will be rubbish, but try me."

"I don't think that. You really do assume the worst about me, don't you?"

There goes that angry scowl again.

"And whose fault is that?" she replied. "But no, Draco, I don't think 'the worst' of you. You think I just let anyone get into my knickers?" Shite. She realized too late how perfectly she'd set herself up to be insulted, but he surprised her.

"No," he said with a hardness to his voice, "I know you don't."

How strange it was to hear it from him of all people. She couldn't say the same for the rest of Wizarding England or even her family. Most assumed that just because she no longer naively put sex and marriage on a pedestal meant that she'd lost all self-respect and was no more discriminating than a common whore. Not that she cared what they thought. No, she did not. And she proved it by continuing to do whatever the hell she felt like.

A heat entered Draco's gaze that she knew all too well.

"Don't be getting any ideas," she warned him and nearly laughed at the disappointment lining his face. "It's been a long, long night, Draco," she offered by means of explanation.

His resigned sigh was long and suffering and no doubt exaggerated for her sake.

"You still didn't answer my question, by the way," she said as she turned off the tap and turned on another one for suds.

It was his turn to sound weary. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with. I just had a lot of things on my mind."

"What things? Work? Tiffs with the family?"

He shook his head.

She smirked and added, "Women trouble?"

One of his eyes twitched and in the next second, he reacted with theatrical offense. "Maybe it's you that's not feeling so well to be suggesting such an absurd thing. Honestly. Me? Having trouble with women? Don't be ridiculous."

She laughed, reaching to pull off her form-fitting top. When it cleared her head, she fully expected to find his appreciative eyes ogling her. He didn't disappoint, but he did surprise her when he turned to leave soon as she slipped into the tub.

"You're not joining me?" she asked, brows raised high in disbelief.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "Will I get to do anything?"

"No, not this time. I told you I was—"

He'd advanced back on the tub and leaned over to kiss her hard. When he pulled back, they were both more than a little breathless. "One, it's been too damn long. Two, you're bloody tempting, and you don't even know. Three, I don't think you have any idea how torturous it'd be for me to sit here, seeing you all naked and soaped up and not be able to touch you like I want to."

Blunt and brazen, that had always been his way of letting her know how much he wanted her, and despite everything weighing on her mind, she came blade thin close to melting right then.

"But don't worry, Red, I have every intention of collecting later," he finished with an unabashed once-over of her and a cheeky wink before leaving the bathroom for good.

There was an urgent quickness to his retreat that she took pride in and smiled smugly as she slinked down further into the magically padded tub. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the warmth of the water and its floral scent, settling into the temporary peace that she knew her reality would undoubtedly tear apart all too soon.

It was another thing Ginny Weasley excelled at these days—the ability to live in the here and now to the exclusion of all else. Through the well practiced will power of her mind, guilt and regrets of the past and worries for the future could not touch her, and if they couldn't touch her than they couldn't hurt her or weigh her down to the point where she might never get up again. Things were so much better that way.


Author Notes: Testing the waters with this one. Is the story still holding up with this second chapter and still leaves you wanting to read on? Feedback would be greatly appreciated on that point. There's always a risk with an attempt at a continuation that one ends up diminishing the original story, and in that case, I'd rather leave it as it was. However which way you feel, it'll be helpful for me to hear your thoughts on it, thanks!

Also a thank you to Anise for looking this over for me.