May 21, 2015
Author's Notes: Reviews appreciated!
Chapter Two: A Dinner Date
The street on which Weasley lived was not one Draco had ever set foot on before, and not only because it was located in a Muggle part of London. The buildings might have been new two decades ago, which wasn't too bad as far as middle class, non-magical residents were concerned. Not everyone could live in a centuries-old mansion in Wiltshire, he conceded. But for their lack of culture and wealth, the shops and residences could have seen some better upkeep at least. Each window he passed looked grimy and in need of a good washing, paint peeled from the doors, and weeds grew in the small yards in front of some of the buildings. He kept both hands in his pockets, one wrapped around his wand, the other secure on his money pouch, untrusting of the shady people walking down the street or entering and leaving the dilapidated buildings. He eyed one blithe old lady carrying shopping bags with particular caution. Who shopped for groceries at seven in the evening?
Maybe Muggles had lower standards of living, but it seemed Ginevra Weasley, a woman born and raised in filth and poverty, felt quite at home in the squalor.
He looked at the piece of parchment on which Ginevra's address was written and spotted her building just across the street. Her door was set next to the entrance to a small market, but the windows were dark and clearly the business was closed. There was a buzzer next to Weasley's door, which Draco only knew how to operate thanks to the instruction given to him by Colin Creevey's enthusiastic ghost. Still, just to spite the very idea of Muggle technology, he knocked on the door and waited.
When no one answered, he knocked again, this time more insistently. It was nearly seven already, and the fact that she hadn't answered his first knock irritated him quite a bit. He was just about to pull out his wand and let himself in when the door swung open.
Weasley's face paled at the sight of him, and she grabbed the neck of her dressing gown. "M-M-Malfoy. What are you doing here?"
His eyebrows lifted as he eyed her from head to toe. Her cotton robe might have once been blue, but it was frayed and faded to almost white, and her fluffy purple slippers were ghastly just because she'd chosen to spend money on them.
"Dinner. Seven o'clock. Remember?" He should have been annoyed that she'd forgotten, but instead he found her amusing. Her embarrassment and shock were the most entertaining displays he'd seen since his early days at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the war had sapped a lot of amusement from the world, and his current Ministry career was as dull as dragon dung—and perhaps even less useful. When Ginevra Weasley had locked her arms around him and kissed him, all the color and flare life used to have seemed to suddenly return.
"I thought you were joking! You know, playing along! I didn't think for a second that you were serious!"
"Now you know that I was. Are you going to get dressed or will I have to cancel my reservation?"
Her eyes narrowed, and the door slid closed an inch. "I am not going to dinner with you. Forget it."
Draco sighed. "I really think it's the least you can do after you accosted me at work. The news traveled all the way down to Level Six, and while I am now the envy of Magical Transportation, I would really like to understand why. Maybe you can understand why that would be important to me."
His eyes were drawn to the way her teeth pressed into her fleshy lower lip, reminding him of how she'd nipped his earlier that day in front of the lifts, and his whole body felt warm at the memory. It was completely idiotic, but he'd been having hot flashes all afternoon just thinking about her and that kiss. He hadn't been able to get home fast enough for a quick wank to release the tension.
"Okay, fine. You might as well come in while I get ready. Just don't touch anything."
"Like I'd steal anything from you," he muttered as she closed the door behind him.
There was a staircase on the right leading up into what looked like a loft bedroom, and on the left, the hallway led straight to a small living area and an open kitchen.
"Sit here," she said without much enthusiasm, gesturing to a low, lumpy looking loveseat covered in hand-knitted throws. "I'll be back."
The soft padding of her feet could be heard ascending the stairs and then above his head as she rushed around her bedroom looking for clothes. Draco stood up and gave himself a tour of the first floor of her flat. It was smaller than his bedroom at Malfoy Manor, but much more colorful and warm than what he was used to. She had an eclectic taste. None of the furniture matched, and her decor seemed themed around do-it-yourself projects. He picked up a rugged coffee mug from a side table, turning the hunk of hollowed out clay until he found some initials on the bottom: LL. Everything in the room was either handmade or handed down. He scrunched his nose at the tackiness.
Feet pounded back down the stairs and Weasley appeared in the living room, saying a little breathlessly, "Okay, I'm ready." She held a pair of black platform heels in one hand, a shiny, gold handbag in the other. And for a rush job getting ready, she looked stunning. Better than he thought she could look, honestly.
Her dress covered her for the most part, the wide neckline hiding any décolletage but still revealing the long line of her neck. The dress flared out at her waist and ended just above her knees. As she hopped around the room trying to stuff her feet into her shoes, he noticed that the back of the dress plunged, baring an expanse of smooth skin from her neck almost all the way to the small of her back.
"You clean up well," he said, and he'd meant it to sound like an insult, but instead it came out a little choked. Luckily she didn't notice as she put on a coat that had been draped over the loveseat.
"Thank you. I do try to make an effort for my boyfriends," she answered drily. "Where are we going?"
Instead of answering, he asked, "Do you have anti-Apparition wards on your… home?"
"Not currently."
Draco held out his hand. "Well, then. Shall we?"
She eyed his outstretched hand, hesitation clear in her eyes, but she sighed and took what he offered.
He tightened his grip and pulled her closer just before Apparating them away to Hogsmeade.
"Malfoy, this is a lot fancier than I was expecting for a pretend date," she muttered uneasily as Draco pushed in her chair before taking a seat across the table from her. "I can't afford this." Her ears burned red at her admission, even though it was no secret to him that such luxuries as fine dining didn't fit into her budget.
"Money talk is so crude. Don't worry about the bill. Just enjoy your food and tell me what happened earlier today."
She picked up her menu, her eyes narrowed at him with wary attention. She looked like a skittish cat, prepared to flee at the slightest noise.
"You're being very generous despite the circumstances," she said.
Draco smirked. Yes, it would look like he was being generous, wouldn't it? But he had his reasons for her special treatment. No woman since Pansy Parkinson—now Pansy Nott—had thrown herself at Draco the way Weasley had done at work that day, and the gesture quite warmed him up to her. She'd been pretty and popular back at Hogwarts, but she'd also been Harry Potter's girlfriend, which had made her instantly unattractive in Draco's eyes, even if her lack of good breeding hadn't. Now, though, she was single, and without Potter's obnoxious shine obscuring her from view, he could see what a beautiful woman she had grown into.
It wasn't just her curves, her strong legs and shapely arms, her narrow waist and wide bust. There was something in her face Draco had never noticed before, even if he'd cared to look. She drew people in easily, even though she was brash and prone to act before thinking. That was clear from her actions earlier that afternoon.
He decided not to comment and instead put his menu down, his meal already decided. Weasley copied him, her face a little flushed.
"I can't read French," she said.
"That's all right," he replied. "I know just what to order."
The waiter returned with a bottle of wine and left with their orders, leaving the two of them alone. Weasley seemed nervous under Draco's gaze, her fingers stroking and fidgeting with her handbag in her lap.
"So," Draco prompted. "What did I save you from today and why did you need saving?"
His words clearly irked her if the sudden crease in her brow and tightening around her mouth was anything to go by. Instead of answering, she opened her purse and pulled out a lavender, folded piece of parchment, pushing it across the table to Draco.
He kept his face composed as he opened the parchment to find a photograph of a penis… or perhaps a rather large pustule? He turned the photo sideways for a different angle. No, that was definitely supposed to be a penis, though why someone would take a picture of such a small thing, Draco wasn't sure, unless the photograph was being used for documentation. Like, for science.
"I had no idea, Weasley, that this is what hides underneath your knickers," he said.
"That's not mine, Malfoy. It's Jason Junker's. He's been harassing me for weeks and nothing I've done to try to stop him has worked." She nodded towards the photo, which Draco had placed on the tabletop face down. "He sent me that this afternoon, after our, er, interlude. Read the note!"
He did, and he frowned, disgusted by Junker's lack of class and the tone of desperation that was clear in his words. Men like Junker tried to hide that desperation behind false bravado, but the only way for him to obtain women was for him to force himself onto them, giving them no choice in the matter at all.
"So, what, you told him I was your boyfriend so he would leave you alone? Clearly it didn't work," he said, shaking the note in his hand.
Weasley grimaced and gulped down a few sips of her wine. "He told me he wouldn't touch someone else's girl. He—he clearly thinks women are objects for him to use at his own discretion for his own pleasure, and while he doesn't respect us at all, he does respect the hold other men have on us." She grew angrier as she went on, the wine and her frustration going straight to her head, making her face flush the same shade of red as her hair. "So I grabbed the first person to cross our paths, you, and I told Jason that you were my boyfriend. I'm sorry it turned into… something bigger, with my brother and the crowd and the kiss…."
Draco waved his hand dismissively. "No need to apologize for that kiss. The pleasure was truly all mine."
"No, it wasn't," she disagreed.
"Come again?"
Smoke could have streamed from her ears, that's how red her face was, her anger swiftly turning into discomfort. She lifted her glass to her lips again, this time taking a smaller, slower sip.
"The pleasure wasn't all yours. It was mine, too." Then her words raced out of her mouth, tripping over each other to be spoken before he could interrupt. "So I had this idea. Maybe, if you could find it in the goodness of your heart, maybe we could… continue pretending. Jason obviously didn't believe me earlier, and he won't stop harassing me until I become unavailable to him. If we pretend to date for long enough, maybe that will convince him to leave me the hell alone. And Ron's already heard the lie. It won't be long until my whole family demands an explanation."
Draco couldn't have fathomed the words that came out of Weasley's mouth until the proof of them was there in front of him. He'd had an inkling that Weasley had been using him to make someone jealous or turn someone away, but that she would want to continue lying by creating a farce of a relationship was beyond his wildest imaginings.
"Why not explain all this to your family, then?" he asked, more serious now than he'd been all evening.
She slumped in her chair and groaned. "I can't. I just can't. I was possessed by the soul of an evil sixteen-year-old when I was eleven! After that, I always fought for the beaten and downtrodden, even when the school bullies turned into Death Eaters."
Draco bristled at that, but she was clearly ranting, spewing words without much thought as to who exactly she spoke to.
"I fought in a battle where greater wizards than I lost their lives. I have never let anyone underestimate me because of my size or my gender. It would be humiliating to admit to my family that I can't handle this one man on my own. How do I tell them that even though I suffered through multiple applications of Unforgivable Curses by Death Eaters during the war, a single perverted coworker has the ability to make me fear him? I can't tell anyone about this!"
He didn't point out that she'd just told him about it. Draco considered her situation as their meal was delivered to their table. Neither of them picked up their forks after the waiter left, the heavy topic certainly sitting like lead in both of their stomachs.
If Draco had goodness in his heart he would have told her immediately, "Yes, let's do it. I will save you from your enemy by pretending to be your boyfriend." But he wasn't some Gryffindor willing to stand up for what was right, just because it was the right thing to do. There were so many other things to consider, like, you know, actually having to pretend to date a Weasley, for one—the required interactions with her family, for another. Draco was a bachelor with all the perks of a single man with too much money spend. What would he get in return for helping her?
He finally picked up his fork and knife to cut into his duck, considering all his options carefully. Well, the best perk of dating Ginevra Weasley would definitely be her family's and ex-boyfriend's reactions to their relationship. Just imagining Potter's face when he saw Draco's arm around Ginevra's waist drew out a delighted smile. Ron had already thrown an apoplectic fit, and his red hair and quick temper guaranteed more outbursts like the one he'd displayed at work that day.
Then there was the girlfriend in question herself. It was already quite obvious to him that he was attracted to her. Somehow, they had amazing chemistry together—she'd even admitted to feeling it, too. Even if he couldn't pursue her for a physical relationship (and chemistry or not, he figured she would not welcome such advances from anyone at the moment, never mind him), she was pretty to look at and dating her would only help his reputation.
Sooo, faking a relationship with Ginevra Weasley, a pro and con list:
Cons:
- She was a Weasley, enough said.
- Draco probably wouldn't physically benefit from being in a relationship with her.
- The whole ordeal would be tedious and troublesome and interfere with his bachelor status.
Pros:
- He'd have the benefit of having a beautiful woman on his arm.
- His name linked with hers, while a mix that made him shudder in revulsion, would improve his reputation in society—or, conversely, his reputation would ruin hers. That was a win-win situation there.
- Dating her might get his mother off his back about marrying as soon as possible. Even if that didn't work, a relationship with a Weasley was sure to annoy Narcissa Malfoy.
- He would have endless opportunities to embarrass her in front of her family and, best of all, piss off Potter and his annoying sidekicks.
The choice was clear.
"I'll do it," he announced.
"'Cue me?" she said with her mouth full. After forcefully swallowing, she repeated herself. "Excuse me?"
"I said I'll do it. I'll help you. I will, out of the goodness of my heart, pretend to be your boyfriend."
"Why?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide and confused.
"I just said," he repeated slowly, "out of the goodness of my heart. Can't I do the right thing just because it's the right thing to do?"
He smiled blithely at her when her eyes narrowed in distrust, quite enjoying her bemusement.
"I've never known you to," she replied. "But if you're serious, we need to lay some ground rules."
"Naturally."
"Number one, we will be faking a relationship. No matter how much either of us enjoyed the last kiss, there won't be any others. No kissing, and don't expect to sleep with me, because it's not going to happen."
"Only if you rid yourself of any notions of sleeping with me as well," he said, his smile widening under her glare.
She continued, mostly ignoring him. "Number two, please be civil with my friends and family. Things will probably be… tense, but if we're going to be convincing, you have to at least try."
"As long as you're civil with mine."
"Yours?" she asked, brought up short by his interruption.
"Of course." He picked up his glass and swirled his wine. "If you want us to be convincing, my parents and friends will have to be convinced as well. You didn't think we'd be able to go through with this charade without their knowing about it, did you?"
"A girl could hope," she said, her jaws clenched tight.
"Am I irritating you?" Draco asked, utterly pleased with himself. At the very least, she'd forgotten about Jason Junker and how he frightened her, but Draco didn't irritate her for her benefit. He enjoyed irking her. The brilliant flush of color in her cheeks brought light to his dismal, dull existence.
He hadn't had this much fun since his pre-Dark Lord Hogwarts years, when his only concern had been how best to humiliate and annoy Potter and his friends while helping Gryffindor lose House points.
"And lastly—"
"What about my rules?" Draco asked.
"Yours?" she questioned.
"I only have one, and I think you'll agree it's necessary for the ruse."
She chewed her food in silence, and only the slight wrinkle in her brow and the tight grip on her silverware alerted Draco to her tense state. An involuntary frown formed on his face, his displeasure at Junker magnifying each time she showed distrust towards him.
Of course, she had every right to distrust Draco. They had never been friends, only antagonistic acquaintances, and he'd done some things that she, as righteous and moral as she was, would consider unthinkable and unforgivable. But her wariness now wasn't a result of their past; the cause rest entirely at Jason Junker's doorstep. He had given all men a bad name in her eyes, and frankly Draco was furious about it, because not all men were like Junker. Maybe a part of him wanted to show her that.
"It's simple, really," he said, the tension in his own voice making her look up from her dinner plate. "You will have to call me Draco, and I will have to call you Ginevra."
"It's Ginny," she corrected.
"Ginevra's fine."
When she merely rolled her eyes and didn't clench her teeth or her fists, Draco considered that a victory.
They finished their meal in relative silence. The way she avoided his gaze, looking around the restaurant or keeping her eyes fastened to her plate, she seemed uncomfortable with the lack of conversation, but Draco spent the rest of their evening together studying her. He'd never noticed before, but her hair was a lighter shade of red than her brother Ron's, a little more blonde than orange, though still unmistakably ginger. She had it pinned away from her face, while leaving the rest to fall in tumultuous waves down to the middle of her back.
Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, standing out against her creamy skin. From far away they might have looked splotchy, like scars from some kind of pox, but up close he could see each individual one. She might have been prettier without them, but he had to admit they did not detract from her natural beauty.
Unlike her brother's tall and lanky form, she had a petite, athletic build that made her look useful. How her brother managed as an Auror with his awkward limbs, Draco couldn't even fathom, and why she hadn't played Quidditch after Hogwarts, he didn't know.
The meal passed quickly—too quickly for Draco's liking if he were honest with himself. She'd been pleasant enough company, but he supposed she wasn't in a position to be antagonistic towards him when she needed his help and he was paying for dinner. They collected their coats from the hostess and then stepped onto the street.
The temperature had dropped since they'd left earlier that evening, but they took shelter from the wind in the alley next to the restaurant. Draco offered his arm, and as soon as Ginevra took it, he Apparated them back to the living room in her flat.
She stepped away from him, her brow furrowed. "Hey, Malfoy," she began.
"Draco," he reminded her.
Her lips tightened in a quick grimace before correcting herself. "Right, Draco. How did you know where I live?"
Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, already bracing himself for the outside chill. "I work in Magical Transportation. I was going to look up your Floo account, but your dead friend Creevey gave your address to me before I had the chance to look through your file."
Her mouth gaped open, and her eyes were wide in shock. "Colin? But he hasn't shown himself to anyone since he died!"
Draco shrugged. "Yeah, bit of a nasty shock for me. Found him sitting in my chair in my office."
She couldn't seem to help herself when the corners of her lips jerked up into a smile. "He does like to do that." Then her eyes narrowed. "I think he and I are going to have to have another little talk."
"Don't be too hard on him," he said. "The poor guy's already dead."
"Yes, thanks for that," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, um, thank you for dinner and for agreeing to help. I owe you big time."
"I'm counting on it," he said with a smirk. "Maybe you can tell me more about being possessed by the spirit of an evil sixteen-year-old."
"It was a really personal and traumatic event. What makes you think I'd tell you anything about that?"
The quirk of her lips implied she meant the words in a teasing manner, which was a strange concept for Draco to wrap his head around—Witty banter with a Weasley? Had the world ended?—but not unenjoyable in the slightest.
"Well, I am your boyfriend now, and you should be able to confide in me," he replied with a shrug.
"We'll work up to that. For now, I'll just say goodnight."
Draco did the same, and then he Apparated back to the gates of Malfoy Manor. As he walked down the lane to the house, he considered the day he'd had at work and the evening that had followed.
He could honestly say he hadn't had this much excitement in years. As he thought about the days ahead, and all of the people he had the opportunity to infuriate and humiliate, a wide smile stretched across his lips.
Draco Malfoy was back in business.
TBC
Author's Notes: The lines "It's Ginny."/"Ginevra's fine." are inspired by the opening number of A Very Potter Musical where Ginny says "It's Ginevra" and Harry responds with "Cool, Ginny's fine."
Sunny's Prompt #3:
Basic premise: Draco and Ginny start publicly dating for reasons other than actually liking each other.
Must haves: The pair put on a very convincing act even though they really don't like what they have to do...at least at first. The ruse goes on for a while and in the meantime they're learning more and more surprising things about the other. Humor.
No-no's: A dark or very angsty story.
Rating range: The higher the better, but ultimately up to you. I really don't mind.
Bonus points: Hogwarts Era. Draco and Ginny get competitive about one-upping each other to show how they're the best girlfriend/boyfriend ever, and when no one is looking they snipe at each other about how lame/stupid their 'romantic' act was or snark together about how ridiculous everyone else is to think that said gesture was so romantic. E.g. "If I actually came home to that and you were my real boyfriend, I'd bloody kill you."