Confrontations and Confessions
Draco did not make an appearance at breakfast the next day, which was really not that surprising considering his situation. Ginny smiled, knowing that he would be feeling terrible from his drunken stint, and hoped rather sadistically that his suffering lasted for a few more hours yet. The best thing about it was that she now had an excuse not to apologise to him. After all, cheating on her was far worse than anything she had done. Besides, she figured that her decision to help him last night – even when he had not deserved it – was compensation enough. Getting vomited on had not exactly been a thrilling experience, and she was not eager to repeat the process.
Her smile quickly faded as she thought about him being with another woman. She could see in her mind the blossoming of love bites on his pale skin and felt rather sick at the thought that some woman's lips had tainted him in such a way. No doubt those woman's fingers had trailed seductively along his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the smooth skin that lay underneath for all her dirty pleasure. Ginny did not want to know what they had done together, but she seriously hoped that he had not slept with the whore. Judging by his unbuckled pants, it seemed likely that he had; if not, the woman, whoever she was, had certainly had a field day in ravaging Draco's toned body with her nasty paws.
Ginny knew that he was toned, for she had ample view last night to note that Draco Malfoy, whatever his faults, had a body that was perfectly in proportion for his more slender frame. He was no lightweight, make no mistake of that, but he was certainly no Vincent Crabbe either – who seemed more like a boulder walking on sticks. Of course, some people would disagree on the matter (just as some found it hard to view Draco's angular features as handsome), but for Ginny, he was proving to be just what she admired in a man. This was strange, considering he was so different to Julian, but there was no getting around the fact that she was very much beginning to appreciate Draco's physical appearance. She tried hard not to reflect on this though, as she was already disconcerted by the discovery that she found Draco's face attractive, and the last thing she wanted was to have to admit that she found his body appealing as well. That would just take her to a whole new level of awkwardness and frustration. It really was so ridiculously unfair that Draco was not ugly.
Inwardly berating herself for once more allowing her thoughts to drift into dangerous territories involving her fiancé's appearance, Ginny forced herself to focus on more important matters. Of course, that only led her to once again brood over Draco's betrayal – something she had been doing for most of the night and, indeed, most of the morning. There was just no escaping him, it seemed. But, really, who could blame her for being slightly obsessive over what had happened? It was only natural that she should feel upset that her fiancé had cheated on her, even if said fiancé didn't love her and she didn't love him. But that was not the point; the point was that he had hurt her pride by going with another woman, and fiancés were not supposed to do that.
Ginny had to admit that she was genuinely surprised by his actions. She had not really thought of him as a womaniser, so she had never dreamed that he might go with someone other than herself. Now she couldn't stop thinking about it, and that in turn left her feeling very bitter and more than a little insecure.
Who was this woman he had gone to? Had she ever met this woman before? Was this woman perhaps more beautiful than herself? Is that why he had gone to her, or was it something else? These were the questions that ran through Ginny's head over and over with fanatical fervour. Even worse was the thought that he might continue to go with other women once they were married. Ginny couldn't bear the thought that she might be sharing her husband with a bunch of whores, even if she and Draco's relationship was rather strange to say the least. Her mind tried to reason with her, telling her that it was unfair of her to expect him to be faithful when there was no love between them, but Ginny couldn't accept such an excuse. The very thought of Draco going with another woman made her feel physically ill, not to mention the burning rage that would suddenly boil in her blood whenever she thought of the love bites that marred his otherwise flawless skin. It was unacceptable, and she refused to let him escape unscathed from her wrath.
"Where is my son?" Narcissa suddenly demanded, staring at Draco's vacant seat.
Ginny blinked and glanced up at Draco's mother. Everyone else around the table (except Armand) had paused in their eating, seeming to have just realised that Draco was indeed missing.
"He's not feeling well," Armand answered smoothly, giving Ginny a pointed glance not to say anything.
Ginny was almost tempted to ignore Armand's warning and reveal that Draco was shut in his room with a hangover, but just like she had not been able to leave Draco to sleep in a pool of his own sick, so could she not bring herself to be so cruel now. She already knew enough about Narcissa to know that Draco would be receiving more than an earful if that formidable woman ever found out about his reckless behaviour, and as much as he would deserve it, it was not in Ginny's nature to be so heartless.
"Well, he had better start feeling well," came the unsympathetic reply. "He's getting married in a day, and I will not have him being sick."
Ginny's stomach gave a rather violent twist. She had completely forgot that the wedding was so soon in all her frustration with Draco.
"What? Is everything ready then?" Ginny asked.
Surely they could not have planned everything so soon. The engagement had only been announced four days ago, but then, knowing Narcissa, she had probably had everything planned for quite a while longer than that.
Narcissa nodded. "I thought it best we hold a small wedding, considering the circumstances, so there was not much to do. The invitations have been sent out for the guests, the orchestra has been hired, the house elves will be doing the catering, and so the only thing left is to find you a wedding dress. I've already booked an appointment with my dressmaker for this afternoon, and Molly and I agree that . . ."
Ginny stopped listening. She had suddenly lost her appetite and could only stare at Narcissa in silent horror. This was all happening too soon. She just couldn't believe that in one day from now she would no longer be Ginny Weasley. She was going to become a Malfoy, and though she had known this fact for quite a few days now, it still had not hit her until that moment. Her very identity was going to be changed. Worst still was the knowledge that she was losing that identity to a man who often lost his temper with her, got mindlessly drunk, and slept with other women behind her back.
Her hands clenched into fists on her lap. She could not accept that this was going to be her lot in life. There was no escape from this marriage, but she would not let Draco use her in such a way. She deserved more respect than that.
Ginny abruptly stood up from her chair. She would go confront him herself if she had to, for she knew that she would never be able to relax until she knew the truth.
"Where are you going?" Narcissa asked, eyebrows rising slightly.
Ginny suddenly realised where she was and what she was doing. Everybody was staring at her curiously (except Alexia, who just scowled). Ginny began to feel her cheeks heat as she stood there. For obvious reasons, she could not explain to them why she was leaving, but then she realised that as Draco's betrothed, it would not be too out of the ordinary for her to want to go visit her 'sick' fiancé.
"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, I'm just so worried about Draco," Ginny lied fluently, feeling more than a little proud that she managed not to throw up at the words spilling out of her mouth. "I can't sit here and eat when I know he's unwell. Please, may I not go to him?"
Mrs Weasley placed a hand over her heart, a misty smile lingering in her eyes. "Such devotion. It quite touches me!"
Narcissa did not seem as touched. Her keen blue eyes scanned Ginny's face for a moment, as if trying to decipher some sort of hidden message behind her future daughter-in-law's words. Ginny swallowed uncomfortably, hoping that her face did not show her anxiety. It would be rather embarrassing to be caught lying.
"Very well," Narcissa said finally, relaxing her hard gaze, "but in future you should excuse yourself before leaving the table."
Ginny nodded and muttered an apology before quickly leaving the room, just glad to have escaped any more questions. She was not halfway up the stairs when Armand's voice called her back.
"Ginny, wait!"
Mentally sighing, Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Armand. She was not in the mood for him right now. As much as she liked Armand, she had come to feel rather irritated with the smiling young man. No doubt he could have stopped her fiancé from acting like a fool last night, and she knew that he, in all his mischief, would have only encouraged Draco to get into trouble. Changeling or not, Armand still was a Malfoy, and it was clear that he had the same dangerous thirst for chaos.
"What?" she snapped, placing a hand on her hip in an uncanny impersonation of her mother.
He ran up the rest of the steps and stopped in front of her. "I don't think you should go see Draco right now. He was in a sorry state when I checked on him this morning, and his temper is not exactly the sweetest. You'd best wait until he's ready to come down himself."
"I don't care if he's dying!" Ginny exclaimed impatiently. "He's brought this all on himself, and I refuse to tiptoe around him just because he's acted like a drama queen and got himself drunk. He's the one who cheated on me, if you don't remember, and so he can have the damn decency to talk to me now."
Armand shook his head in earnest. "I wouldn't if I were you. You don't understand the half of it, and he'll kill me if he knew I let you go up there."
Ginny smiled sweetly at him, a sure danger sign that she was getting more than a little irritated. "You're right, Armand, I don't understand the half of it, and that's what I plan to find out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to talk to my fiancé, and if you even think to try and stop me, I will make sure you understand what it means to be hit by my Bat-Bogey Hex."
With that terrifying promise, she turned around and stomped up the stairs in a determined way, leaving no doubt that her darling fiancé was about to be on the receiving end of what could possibly be the biggest rant of his life. Armand, who could only watch her progress in awe, finally realised what people meant when they said that Ginny Weasley was a handful. One would have to be insane to want to tame that spitfire, but – he thought with a smile – it just was possible that Draco might be the one to do it. That is, if he survived her wrath today . . .
OOOO
Draco lay in the semi-darkness of his room, one arm draped over his eyes to shield out any rays of sunlight that had forced its way through the curtains, and the other resting on his stomach, which was still churning rather unpleasantly. Thankfully, he had only spewed up once this morning, but the combination of his swimming head and the awful feeling twisting inside him was enough to make him feel very worried that he might do it again.
His morning had not been pleasant. Armand, in all his sunny glory, had come into the room earlier that day to see how he was feeling, which had only succeeded in making Draco wince and tell his damned cousin to— well, let's just say that Narcissa would not have been pleased with the language that had come out of her darling son's mouth. Armand, thankfully, complied with Draco's foul-mouthed wishes and speedily left the room, accompanied most thoughtfully by two thrown pillows. Draco had then been allowed to brood in silence, completely depressed by his own actions, and feeling more than a little ill. He was very ready to kill himself and anyone who dared enter his room again.
Actually trying to remember what had happened last night was proving quite the task. Bits and pieces of memory flittered past his hazy mind, conjuring a picture that was rather unsettling to a normally dignified and morally conscience man. Yes, despite Draco's popular reputation, he was far from sleeping with every woman that came across his path, nor did he relish in drinking himself under the table. He was strict in his behaviour and very adamant in upholding the Malfoy honour by not making a fool of himself. However, from what he could tell by his fragmented recollections, he had done just that.
Draco vaguely recalled talking to Blaise and Armand in the pub, as well as throwing a glass of Firewhisky at Blaise's face (which caused a little smile to pass over his lips), but much more disconcerting was the rather alarming image of a voluptuous blonde. Since he had discovered by this time his attire (or, rather, lack of), he realised that something must have happened. There was also the disgusting discovery that he had love bites on his chest, which was something he did not cherish. He did not have the 'beer goggles' to distort his mind now, and he knew well enough that the woman he had so recklessly gone to the upper rooms with had been no looker. It was enough to make him shudder, and shudder he did.
Determined to find out what had happened with the tacky blonde, Draco forced his mind into overdrive and tried to dredge up every cringe-worthy memory that could be traced back to the dingy room in the pub. By the end of it, he was feeling even more physically ill than he had to begin with. It also posed the question of what had happened after he had left the room. Everything was so fuzzy that he could barely remember a thing, yet, strangely enough, the only thing he could really pinpoint was a girl throwing herself on his chest and apologising for something. He almost thought it was Ginny, but that wasn't possible. Why would Ginny have been in his room? Better yet, why would she have been throwing herself on top of him and apologising? It just didn't make sense.
It was in that moment that Ginny herself burst through the door. Her chestnut eyes narrowed as they fell on him, and her lips settled into a firm line. She looked magnificent, as a female Weasley only could in high temper. A crown of red ringlets adorned her head, shaping her face to advantage, and her eyes were sparkling brilliantly in her rage. Her body was encased in a floor-length dress of deep, blood velvet that curved down tastefully at her breasts and nipped in at the waist before spanning out to the floor, giving the illusion that she was much curvier than she was. It was a dress that Celia had picked and on Ginny it truly was a sight to behold. She looked beautiful, and the sight of her quite took Draco's breath away (hangover or not). Perhaps that was why he didn't kill her on sight. He was, understandably, too shocked by both her appearance and her presence to do much else.
"Ginny," Draco managed to say, not quite covering his surprise.
This was not exactly how he wished to greet his fiancée. He was, after all, still lying in the bed, looking very pitiful and pained with no shirt on and the sheets all twisted around his waist. His hair was mussed and tangled, and his eyes were heavy and had dark rings circling them. His cheeks had lost the flush of alcohol and now were simply deathly pale, though perhaps that had more to do with how horribly ill he felt. In any case, he looked pathetic, and he felt it too.
Ginny said nothing to his pitiful exclamation, simply slamming the door shut behind her (causing Draco to wince), and then marched over to the bed, using her wand to open the curtains as she did so. Sunlight poured into the room, making Draco's pale face stand out even more against the rich green of his pillows. He looked very ill indeed. This caused not a spark of sympathy in Ginny, who merely stopped in front of him, nostrils flaring from her quickened breathing, and looked just about ready to explode from all the frustration pent up inside her.
"Well?" she demanded shrilly (causing Draco to wince even more). "What have you got to say for yourself?"
He placed a hand over his eyes to shield out the light, as well as ease the pain her voice had inflicted on his head. "Merlin, Weasley, do you have to be so bloody loud?" he snapped, fast losing his temper.
She made a strangled noise in her throat that sounded halfway between a scream and sob. "Is that all you can say?" she cried. "That I'm being loud? Damn it, Draco, do you have any idea how angry I am with you right now? Do you?"
Draco removed his arm and stared at her in some exasperation. "Oh no, Weasley, it's clear by the way you stormed through my door without even knocking and started screeching at me like a banshee that you're feeling just swell towards me."
For a moment Ginny really did look like she was going to explode, but then she let out a furious breath and glared at him. "Why do you have to be so annoying?" she demanded, practically tearing her hair out in her frustration. "Here I am trying to have a serious conversation with you, and you just sit there making stupid, sarcastic remarks!"
"A serious conversation?" he repeated scornfully. "You just started shouting at me. Honestly, Weasley, how do you expect me to react to you barging in here and demanding answers of me like you're my mother?"
"I have every right to know what happened! I'm your fiancée!" Ginny retorted, her face developing some rather interesting red splotches.
Draco placed his arm back over his eyes, letting out a tired sigh as he did so. "Just go away, Weasley. I don't want to talk about it."
No!" Ginny shouted, and even stamped her foot. "I am not going to go away, and you're going to damn well tell me the truth about what happened last night! I know you went and got drunk, and I know that you were with another woman! I saw the marks!"
"Well, you seem to already know everything," he muttered dryly, still not taking his arm away from his face. "What do you expect me to tell you?"
Ginny shook her head, her eyes going oddly bright as she tried desperately to hold back tears. She had promised herself that she would not cry, but it was so hard with Draco acting so unapologetic and heartless. Did he not care at all that she might have been hurt by his actions?
"I just want to know the truth," she replied in a strained voice, staring at his unresponsive form. "Did you or did you not have sex with that woman?"
Draco said nothing. Perhaps he was hoping that she would disappear if he just stayed silent, but Ginny was not so easily put off. Picking up one of the pillows that had been thrown at Armand earlier that morning, she threw it hard at Draco and hit him in the face with a loud thump, much to her satisfaction. He lifted his arm away and stared at her in some annoyance and surprise.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, glaring irritably at her.
"What is wrong with me?" she repeated almost hysterically. "Do you have any idea what it feels like knowing that your fiancé was with another woman two days before your wedding? Do you?"
"Oh, come off it," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "You never wanted to marry me anyway. How can you possibly care if I go with another woman or not? You don't love me, and I sure as hell don't love you."
"It's not about love!" Ginny retorted. "It's about respect, and you—" she picked up the other pillow and threw it at him "—are not respecting me when you go with other women."
"Would you stop throwing bloody pillows at me!" Draco snapped, looking very much like he'd like to throw a pillow back at her. It seemed to take all his self-control to restrain himself, but his eyes continued to smoulder dangerously.
"I can do what I damn well like!" Ginny replied heatedly, not even caring if she was testing his patience. "I'm sick and tired of you treating me like some useless possession you snagged for your convenience! I'm your fiancée, Draco, and whether you love me or not, you're going to damn well treat me as one! You're the one who says I show no respect to you, but this—this is worse than anything I have done. I didn't even think you could sink this low, but apparently I was wrong. I just can't believe you went with a woman two days before our wedding!"
Draco sighed and stared at her calmly. "Weasley."
Ginny ignored him. Her towering rage of passion was so high that she wasn't even paying attention to him now. She had started pacing up and down, her eyes burning with frustrated tears as she muttered furiously, "I've put up with so much for this stupid wedding, and, yes, I admit that I've acted like an idiot sometimes, but did that really give you an excuse to treat me with such a lack of respect?"
"Weasley!" Draco tried again, this time louder, and considerably more exasperated.
"I know that you don't love me," she continued, still pacing up and down, "but you were the one who chose me as your fiancée! You put yourself in this situation! I never asked for this, and I never wanted it! It's your fault, so the least you can do is tell me whether our marriage is always going to involve these other women, because I'm telling you now that I can't take this, Draco! I just can't, and I won't! It hurts so much, and I don't even know why, but it does, and I can't—"
"Merlin, woman, would you just shut up!" Draco bellowed, finally reaching his limit.
Ginny glared at him. "How dare you talk to me li—"
"I NEVER SLEPT WITH HER!"
"W-what?" she stammered, not quite sure that she had heard him properly, though he had yelled it loud enough.
Draco's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms crossly over his chest. "I. Never. Slept. With. Her."
"Oh," was all Ginny managed to say, feeling more than a little stupid and embarrassed. After all her ranting and raving, he hadn't even had sex with the woman. Still, he had gone and got drunk, and there were those marks on his chest. Maybe he was just lying?
"How can I believe you?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "You could just be lying. You do have those marks on your chest, and I know that you were drunk last night because I was the one who helped you to bed."
He sighed, seeming to have expected something like this. It was clear by his resigned expression that he really did not wish to confess anything more to her, but it was either tell the truth or put up with her ranting and raving. Peace from her screeching won out.
"Yes," he explained tiredly, "I did get drunk because I was angry, and yes, I did try to go with that woman, but I didn't sleep with her. I just—I just couldn't." His eyes dropped to his lap, his cheeks tingeing with pink. "I never went with her because I actually wanted to, I just—I mean, I was angry, and the alcohol made me a little reckless, but I—"
He fell silent, not quite sure what else to say without embarrassing himself further. How could he explain to Ginny – his fiancée – that he had only gone with that woman because Blaise had been taunting him about being afraid of sex? He would never be able to live with the shame, and he would much prefer to keep his status of being a virgin to himself.
"You really didn't sleep with that woman?" Ginny asked, not quite daring to believe her ears.
Draco looked up from his hands and met her hopeful gaze. He nodded.
"Thank Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed, and threw herself at his chest. He had not betrayed her; he had not gone with that woman, and though in that moment she had no idea why this knowledge should make her so happy, she would never forget just how beautiful his confession had sounded to her aching heart.
Draco, on the other hand, was stunned to say the least by Ginny's sudden display of affection. He had not been expecting it at all, considering the circumstances, and even now was still trying to regain his breath from the impact of her body hurtling against his. He also felt rather uncomfortable with her lying practically on top of him, and it didn't help that she seemed to be nuzzling her face into his chest, tickling his chin with her red curls.
His heart started beating faster, the quickening beat becoming louder and louder until his whole body seemed to be pounding with the frenzied rhythm. He was sure Ginny must feel it, must hear it, but she did not move from her position, and he could tell that she was crying by the wet trails beginning to dampen his skin where her face lay.
It was awkward and uncomfortable, and he still felt terribly ill from his hangover. However, despite all his reservations – despite the strangeness of having her hug him – Draco felt the prickling of that small, special warmth inside him again. There was something sweet about the way she clung to him, something – dare he think it – heart-warming. Malfoys were not supposed to feel like this, especially towards shrewish Weasleys, but he seemed to have lost all control of that infernal organ beating so insistently in his chest. It almost seemed like it was trying to tell him something, but Draco had never been very good at reading his own emotions, and the thumping and the warm feelings of his heart could not quite pierce the veil of stubbornness that he had shrouded himself with.
The moment was passing beyond his grasp, the awkwardness increasing, and Draco suddenly remembered that he did not like to be hugged.
"Uh, Ginny," he muttered, trying to curb the sudden urge to push her off him. "I'm glad you've forgiven me and all, but, uh, can you get off me?"
Ginny sniffed and raised her head from his chest, though she was still quite comfortably leaning against him with her arms wrapped tight around him. "I'm sorry," she replied with a watery smile. "I'm just so relieved."
He barely managed not to smile in return at her honesty and wondered if she even realised how open she was being with him right now. But then, when he thought about it, Ginny never really had been one to hide her emotions. She truly did wear her heart on her sleeve, which was one of the things he found most intriguing about her. He did have to wonder why she was so happy, though. Surely his going with another woman could not be that upsetting to her?
Draco stared at her curiously. "Would you really have been that upset if I had actually gone with that woman?"
"It's only natural to be upset over something like that," Ginny replied with a shrug. "How would you feel if I went and had sex with another man two days before our wedding?"
Even at the mere suggestion of her being with another man, Draco felt a sudden rush of anger and protectiveness grow inside him. Like a dog protecting its bone, Draco knew that he would snarl at anyone who dared to even come in breathing distance of Ginny. He didn't express any of this, though. Instead, he simply raised his eyebrow at her, remarking rather dryly, "You do realise that you're still sitting on me."
Ginny's face suddenly burned bright red, much to Draco's satisfaction. So she should feel embarrassed for leaping on him like that and hugging him. Didn't she understand that Malfoys did not like to be hugged? Especially grumpy Malfoys who had hangovers. It didn't matter if it had been oddly nice having her leaning against him, because it wasn't nice, damn it, and he was much happier having her at a safe distance. Who knew what might happen otherwise? Hugs could be contagious for all he knew, and then he might – Merlin forbid it – end up wrapping his arms around her too.
Draco's eyebrow rose even higher. She still had not moved.
"Right," Ginny said hurriedly, and scrambled off him, careful not to touch him any more than she needed to.
There was an awkward pause as they stared at each other, neither knowing what to say.
"Um, right, well that was all I wanted to know, so I'll just go now," Ginny mumbled quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. "You probably want to be alone anyway."
She turned to leave, but a firm grasp on her wrist made her stop. Surprised, she turned and met Draco's steely grey eyes, her own widening in a silent question. Draco seemed to struggle with himself for a moment and then, finally, he seemed to find the words to express his thoughts, as simple and profound as they were.
"Thank you."
Ginny blinked as he released her wrist. "For what?" she asked with a frown, wondering why he would thank her. She hadn't done anything at all, unless one counted crushing his ribs in a bone-crunching hug.
He shrugged. "For believing me and all."
Well, that was eloquent.
A small smile tugged at Ginny's lips. "It's okay. It was pretty obvious you were telling the truth when you started blushing."
Draco looked horrified at the thought. "I did not blush!" he exclaimed, seeming to be in great distress that his cheeks could possibly have betrayed him in such a way.
Ginny's smile grew until it become positively impish. "You keep telling yourself that, but I did see you blush."
Two pink spots blossomed on Draco's cheeks, causing Ginny to let out a triumphant giggle. "And there you go again! Really, Draco, you're going to have to accept that you can blush just as much as everyone else."
Draco grumbled something under his breath and then glared at her. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you. Have you ever seen what you look like when you blush?"
"Why you little—"
Ginny went to hit him in retaliation, but Draco managed to shift away before she could. He was laughing now, and while she tried to appear angry, her lips were quivering noticeably with repressed giggles. Still, she was not going to let him off that easily. No one mocked her and remained unscathed.
"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy," she promised darkly. "Just you wait. I'll find your weak spot, and then you'll never mock my blushing again."
He looked up at her, the laughter not quite faded from his grey eyes. "I'm petrified, really."
Ginny gave a rueful grin. "So you should be."
Draco just smiled and then relaxed back against the bed. Oddly enough, his hangover seemed to not be so bad right now. Of course, his head still felt like it weighed hundreds of tonnes, and his stomach still felt like it was trying to wriggle out of his body, but being able to actually talk and laugh was progress at least. Maybe there was some magic in laughter after all – even if it did make him wince sometimes.
Ginny gave him a sideways look. "So . . . who was the woman?" she asked, still having a morbid fascination to find out who the woman actually was that he had tried to have sex with. "Do I know her?"
Instantly, his good humour vanished. "Go away, Weasley," he muttered, giving her a hard glare.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Ginny said with a laugh, putting her hands up in surrender. "I was just asking. Sheesh, you are touchy in the mornings, aren't you?"
"I'd like to see how anyone can be cheery with a hangover," Draco grumbled.
Ginny placed a finger to her chin, her eyes misting over with thought. "I could make you a proper sobering draught. I cast a charm on you last night, but that was really only to stop you from vomiting everywhere. The proper draught should cure your hangover symptoms completely."
Draco looked like Christmas had come early. With miraculous speed for someone who had a hangover, he grabbed her hands and stared hopefully into her eyes. "Will you do that?" he asked, not quite managing to hide his desperation. It was clear that he was not cherishing his hangover at all.
A slow, wicked smile curved her lips. "Gee, I don't know. Do you deserve it?"
Throwing pride to the winds, he gripped her hands tighter. "Weasley, if you make me this sobering draught, I swear I will—I will . . . well, I don't know what I'll do, but I'll do something for you."
Never did Ginny think she'd ever see Draco Malfoy begging her for something, let alone promising that he would do something in return. No doubt if she were a Slytherin, she would take full advantage of the situation, but there was only one thing Ginny wanted from him.
"Just promise me you won't go and get drunk like that again," she said seriously. "You scared me, Draco. I don't want to go through that again."
He looked a little surprised by her words, but he nodded his head all the same. "Okay."
Ginny smiled and pulled her hands away from his. "Alright then, it's a deal. I'll go make the sobering draught now."
Draco nodded eagerly and ushered her out of the room, impatient to get his potion. "Don't take too long," he called to her retreating back.
"I won't," Ginny replied with a laugh, and then vanished around the bend in the hallway.
Draco sighed and closed the door to his room. He walked back to the bed and collapsed on top of the blankets, body sprawled out spread-eagle. He frowned up at the intricately designed ceiling above him, his eyes following the golden design with no particular interest. His conversation with Ginny had gone better than he had expected considering the circumstances, but he was still uncomfortable about having to open up to her like that. He did not like to share his personal feelings with anyone except his horse and Armand.
"I suppose she's not so bad, though," he mused to himself.
It cost him a great deal to admit as much, but he did have to concede that when she wasn't acting like a damned shrew, she was tolerable enough. After all, there had to have been something that he liked about her to make him actually want to marry her, and it was true that once she had got past her banshee phase, he had found himself warming up to her more. They still had teased each other, which was not unexpected, but Draco considered his teasing much more good-humoured than what his previous taunting towards her had been – as was hers to him.
Still, he knew he was lucky that she had forgiven him so easily. He certainly didn't deserve it, no matter how much he regretted last night's drunken stint, and her offer to make him a sobering draught certainly did place her high in his good books.
"As long as she doesn't start hugging me again," he muttered darkly to himself. "I can handle anything but that."
That had been as awkward as it had been horrifying. He did not like to be hugged, and he'd be damned if he'd let her wrap her scrawny, freckly arms around him in such an affectionate way again. It was too cosy and too—too cute! No man wanted to be caught in such an act, and—
"Why am I still thinking about that damned hug?" Draco demanded of the silent walls.
The walls had no reply, but Draco didn't seem to mind their silence. He was quite content brooding over the matter himself, trying his best not to think of the hug, and not to think of the girl who had given it to him. Unfortunately for Draco, he failed spectacularly at both.
OOOOO
Ginny, meanwhile, was in the kitchens terrorising the house-elf as she made Draco's sobering draught. She was not sure where else she would be able to find a big enough pot to make the potion, or the ingredients for that matter, and she knew that it was impossible to ask Narcissa. Luckily, she had found all the ingredients she needed in the kitchen cupboards, and there had been a pot just the right size for brewing the sobering draught. The elf, however, was not as happy.
"Miss, you must stop. Miss—" the elf tugged at the skirts of her dress. "Dinky will get in trouble if Dinky lets you use the kitchen."
"Oh, hush!" Ginny admonished, turning a sharp eye at the elf and holding the wooden spoon in her hand in an unintentionally menacing way. "It's not doing anyone any harm, and I'll have you know that I am under strict orders from my fiancé to make this. Now go away if you're going to fret; you're making me lose my concentration."
Indeed, she could barely concentrate with the elf tugging at her dress and giving little moans of horror. She knew that elves were dedicated to their jobs, but this little chef was proving to be quite the nuisance. Potion making was a very delicate business, and while Ginny had always excelled at the art, she knew that one had to be completely focussed or nasty side effects could happen. It was imperative that she make no mistakes, for she did not want Draco to end up poisoned.
Footsteps thumped down the kitchen stairs as someone came closer to the cooking area. Ginny froze, turning her face anxiously towards the doorway, hoping that it was not Narcissa, but it was only Armand.
"Hello, what are you doing in here?" Armand asked cheerily, picking up an apple from the basket on the bench. He crunched into it loudly and grinned at the elf, who was now holding its hands up to its appalled face.
"You is not supposed to be in here, young master," the elf scolded. "Mistress told Dinky to not allow you to eat all the kitchen larder."
"But I'm famished! You wouldn't want me to starve now, would you, Dinky?"
Dinky apparently did. Unlike the chefs at Hogwarts, this little house-elf was fiercely protective of its larder, and was very adamant in telling Armand that he was not allowed to eat anything until lunch.
Ignoring this exchange, Ginny continued brewing the potion with careful precision, pausing only to wipe the sweat off her brow from the rising steam. Armand seemed to remember her presence again and made his way towards her. He peered into the pot, gave a tentative sniff, and then pulled a face of utter revulsion.
"Merlin's pants, what is that?" he demanded, now holding his shirt up over his nose.
Ginny laughed and changed her stirring to counter-clockwise. "It's Draco's sobering draught. I know it smells terrible, but it'll do the trick."
Armand frowned, or at least Ginny thought he frowned. It was hard to tell when his mouth was covered.
"You're making him a sobering draught?" he asked doubtfully. "I thought you were angry with him."
She shrugged. "I suppose I could still be angry with him for trying to go with another woman, but he didn't sleep with her, and it seems like he never really wanted to anyway. I think he was just drunk, and I have it on good authority that he will never get drunk like that again."
Armand chuckled. "I didn't think he had slept with her. She was no looker, let me tell you that, and Blaise and I did think it was a bit odd when he appeared down the stairs again a little too early."
Ginny stopped her stirring and pointed her wooden spoon threateningly at his face. "About that – why didn't you stop him? I know you weren't drunk, so you can't give me that, and I know you could have stopped him from making a fool of himself, because he listens to you."
"I never told him to go to that beast of a woman," Armand defended, putting his hands up in surrender. "Besides, it was Blaise's fault for egging Draco on. He knew that Draco was drunk out of his mind, and Draco always has been ridiculously stubborn, which is only made worse when he's been drinking. Draco was beyond saving once Blaise started taunting him about being afraid of sex."
Ginny blinked. "He's afraid of—What?"
Armand paled. "Did I say that out loud?"
She nodded.
He cursed and ran a hand through his air. "Don't tell Draco," he begged, looking suddenly very boyish and guilty. "He'll skin me alive if he knew I told you."
"Is it true, then?" Ginny asked curiously. "Is he really afraid of sex?"
It seemed very strange for a man to be afraid of sexual intercourse, especially a man like Draco. One would normally expect him to be well versed in such acts. She knew he didn't pay much attention to women, but afraid of sex? That cast a whole new light on her fiancé.
Armand shrugged. "I don't know if he's afraid of sex, exactly. I think he's just worried that he'll do something wrong. He's a virgin, you know?"
Being a virgin herself, Ginny found nothing amiss with this disclosure, even though she did find it a little surprising. She had never really thought about it before – Merlin knew she didn't entertain herself by trying to imagine what Draco's sex life was like. That would just be weird . . . and slightly creepy.
This knowledge was valuable to her, though. Everything was starting to make sense now. It was clear that Draco hadn't wanted to go with that woman, but obviously Blaise had been taunting him for being afraid of sex, and that had spurred Draco into behaving recklessly just to prove that he was not. Now his confession made sense, and his sudden embarrassment because of it. He didn't want to admit that he was a virgin who had no clue what to do when it came to sex.
"I won't tell," Ginny said finally. "I don't think I dare bring that up with Draco. He might hex me or something."
Armand sniggered. "I wouldn't put it past him. He's quite defensive of his personal life and feelings."
"I know," Ginny said with a sigh.
It did make things harder between them having Draco so reserved. She was not really used to dealing with people so closed off. His reaction to her hug said it all. Any other friend would not have batted an eyelash, but he had got so awkward because of it and that, in turn, had embarrassed her too.
She looked back down at her potion, which was finally the colour of mustard. "It's ready," she observed with a smile. "I'd better go take it to him."
Armand nodded. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
Ginny laughed while scooping up the sobering draught into a cup. "Oh, you have no idea."
She held the now full cup of potion in her hands and glanced at the elf. "There, I'm done. You see, the kitchen has not blown up, and I haven't touched anything else from your pantries. You can stop wetting yourself now."
Dinky glared at them both and then started gathering up Ginny's dirty dishes, all the while muttering under his or her (Ginny didn't know which) breath about kitchen invaders.
Ginny shook her head in amused exasperation and then left the kitchen, followed by Armand, who was eating another apple. They parted ways at the foot of the grand staircase, and Ginny managed to get back to Draco's room without any hiccups. She knocked at the door this time and, hearing the muffled 'come in', entered the room.
Draco sat up instantly in the bed. "You're back."
Ginny nodded and handed him the potion. "You'd better drink it as quickly as you can. It doesn't have a very nice taste."
Taking the potion from her hands with a murmured thanks, Draco downed the whole lot in one gulp. He pulled a face at the taste before he relaxed and placed the cup on his bedside table. Almost immediately, he began to feel his headache lessening and his stomach finally begin to settle down.
"Thank you," he said gratefully.
"No problem," Ginny replied with a smile. "You'd just better remember our deal."
"I don't think you have to worry about me getting drunk like that again. I really don't enjoy drinking . . ."
He visibly shuddered at the thought of drinking another glass of Firewhisky. Others might enjoy it, but he much preferred to stay sober. He did not think that he would ever risk another agonising night just to be drunk for a few hours. The after-effects were simply not worth it.
They both fell silent for a moment, neither really knowing what to say to each other. It was the first time in days that they had nothing to argue about, and it almost made Ginny feel like she was being lulled into a false sense of security. She knew they couldn't always argue though, and, truthfully, she did not want to. She did not enjoy arguing with him – at least, not the vindictive arguing that they had been doing. Teasing was a completely different thing, and she did so love to put him out of countenance . . .
Ginny stared at him, watching as his face slowly regained its lost colour. Her potion had obviously worked, for he was already looking more bright-eyed. She remembered what Armand had said in the kitchens and thought how odd it was that he should be feeling just as anxious as she was. Most of her fear was aimed towards the wedding night, for not only was she a virgin, but it was horrible to think that her first might be with someone she did not love. Of course, the wedding itself was just as terrifying, as was the thought of what could be in store for her future. Ginevra Malfoy would be living a completely different life to Ginny Weasley. It really was quite scary to think how much would change.
She frowned and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Draco?"
"Yes?" he said cautiously, seeming to sense by her heavy tone that her conversation was not going to be something he would enjoy.
"Are you scared?"
Draco frowned and sat up straighter, staring at her in some confusion. He could tell by the way she was nervously playing with her hands that she was upset about something.
"About what?" he asked curiously.
She let out a deep breath and gave a funny little shrug, or at least he thought it was a shrug. It was more a convulsive twitch when he thought about it.
"I don't know. We're getting married in one day, and I just feel—" She broke off and turned her troubled gaze on him. "Well, don't you think that it's kind of scary?"
He sighed and leaned back against the pillows. "A little bit," he confessed, "but there's nothing we can do. We just have to make the most of it, I guess."
She was a silent for a moment, and Draco shifted his gaze back to her face. Her eyes were downcast and a crease had gathered on her brow. She was obviously bothered by something that she was not telling him, and he'd be damned if he knew why, but he felt a sudden desire to wipe the worried frown from her face.
"If you keep up that expression, you're going to really make me feel bad. Am I really that horrible to you, or are your Weasley sensibilities just offended in knowing that you're going to become one of the dreaded Malfoys?"
Ginny let out a gurgle of laughter, her eyes suddenly flicking towards his with such frank warmth that he felt something tug at his heart that was not quite concern. He ignored the feeling, but the image of her smiling eyes continued to linger disconcertingly in his mind for a long time afterwards.
"I must really look miserable if you're trying to cheer me up," she remarked candidly, and then shrugged, looking away from him as her smile faded. "I don't know. I honestly don't know how I feel about this marriage, or you, or anything at all for that matter. I'm just . . . scared. I don't even know why I'm so scared; I just am." She shook her head in exasperation or confusion, Draco was not really sure which, and then she looked back at him. "Does that make any sense?"
Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah, it does."
He was scared too. Of course, it was only natural to get nervous before a wedding, as Draco knew that other couples got pre-wedding nerves too, but those couples had willingly chosen to get engaged. Draco and Ginny had effectively been forced into their engagement. Somehow that made things so much murkier in terms of where they were heading, and only made his fear grow. This marriage had the potential to change their lives, and Draco knew that it would definitely change his. Really, when he thought closely about it, he was completely terrified of what the future held for him.
"I think—I think I feel the same."
Suddenly, there was a knock. Draco paused and stared at the closed door.
"Ginevra, dear, we really must go now," his mother called. "We still have to get your dress."
Ginny let out a small sigh, feeling slightly disappointed that they had been interrupted when Draco was finally opening up to her. There was no point in trying to have a heart-to-heart with him when his mother wanted her to leave.
She looked back at Draco with a resigned expression. "I'd better go."
He nodded, not really knowing what else to say, and watched her stand up off the bed. She walked to the door and then paused, turning her face back to his with an odd expression on her face. It wasn't quite a smile, yet it wasn't quite a frown either.
"I'm glad we got to talk," she said softly. "It's been good."
Draco inclined his head. "Yeah."
Ginny gave him a small smile, opened the door, and then left the room to go find Narcissa. It was time to get her wedding dress.
OOOOO
The dressmaker's shop was a lot different to what Ginny had expected. As she knew that this was Narcissa's personal dressmaker, Ginny had been expecting something very grand, with an opulent shop and owner. Madam Tunningham was nothing of a sort, nor was her shop. She was a very elderly lady with a hunched over back and wiry grey hair. Her eyes were so pale that they had an almost colourless quality, and she tended to squint. Wrinkles had been carved into her face like the crumpled lines of an old parchment, and her smile was certainly nothing to admire. She was, to be frank, quite hideous, and the sombre black dress she was wearing did nothing to soften her appearance.
Her shop was just as decrepit. Everything was clean, of course, but there was a lingering smell of musk and age that Ginny did not like. The curtains were old fashioned and reminded Ginny of the ugly drapes that had hung in Grimmauld Place. The wooden counter was in need of a good polish, and the dais that stood in the centre of the room was very modest in its appearance.
Ginny stared at Narcissa. "Is this really the right place?"
Narcissa let out a tinkling laugh. "Don't let these humble appearances deceive you, Ginevra. Madam Tunningham is a master at her art; you will never find another dressmaker to create you a more beautiful dress."
Ginny wasn't sure if she believed the blonde, but just in that moment, Madam Tunningham herself came over and clasped Ginny's hands warmly in her own wrinkled ones.
"You must be Ginevra Weasley," she said in her frail voice. "It is an honour to create the wedding dress for dear Draco's fiancée."
"Uh, thank you," Ginny replied a little uncertainly.
Madam Tunningham smiled and patted her hand fondly. She then glanced up at Narcissa, who was looking oddly out of place in such a humble abode. "Your son has found himself a beautiful bride. I can tell that it will be a pleasure to dress Miss Weasley."
Molly beamed at Ginny, puffing her chest up in pride. If there was one thing she loved, it was to hear her children complimented.
"Yes," Narcissa agreed, "but we have little time before the wedding, Imelda, so it will have to be something simple, I think."
"Nonsense," Imelda replied with a wave of one wrinkled hand. "She shall be a goddess. You will see."
Ginny suddenly found herself in an iron grip and was steered to the dais. Her dress was stripped off her without preamble, leaving her standing in just her petticoat. Imelda charmed her measuring tape to start taking Ginny's measurements for the dress, and all the while she chatted about what style Ginny would suit, which style she actually wanted, and whether she had any dress in mind.
"Um, well, I don't really know," Ginny confessed, trying to not flinch at the measuring tape swirling around her. "It's all been so sudden."
"No matter, no matter, I'm sure I can find you something you will like," Imelda said with a grin.
The old woman stared at the clipboard that had been magically writing Ginny's measurements and then frowned to herself. Ginny wondered what she was frowning about, but that was soon made clear when Imelda pointed her wand at Ginny and said a charm. Immediately, Ginny felt yards of white satin wrap around her body to form a beautiful wedding dress.
Ginny's jaw dropped as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could not believe that Madam Tunningham had managed to conjure such a beautiful dress so quickly. The sleeves were long and tight on her arms, curving down just below her shoulders to cut across her breasts in a low loop. Bands of thick, white silk were weaved into the strip of fabric curving along her breasts and shoulders, and tiny little diamonds had been encrusted into the fabric with the bands. It was clear now where Imelda's money went. Her dresses truly were magnificent, and as Ginny stared at the floor-length creation, with its long white, satin train trailing out behind her – the hem of it also encrusted with white, silk bands and diamonds – she could not believe that she was actually staring at her own reflection. When a long, sheer veil was placed over her face, complete with a diamond tiara to sit on her crown of red curls, she knew she was dreaming.
"Do you like it?" Imelda asked, peering up at Ginny through her squinty eyes.
"Like it?" Ginny breathed out in a rush. "I love it! It's beautiful."
Narcissa smiled proudly and gave Ginny a kiss on the top of her head. "And you, my dear, look beautiful in it."
Molly could only let out a wobbly sob. "Oh, my baby is all grown up!" she gushed, dabbing at her eyes where tears were forming.
Ginny turned and smiled at her mother, tears coming to her own eyes. Even if this wedding was not what she had always dreamed of, she truly had found the dress of fairy tales.
"Will you be taking this dress, then?" Imelda asked.
Ginny nodded, wiping at her eyes. "Yes, I'll take the dress."
She wouldn't dream of settling for anything less. Narcissa had been right. Madam Tunningham was truly a master at her art, for she had made even Ginny feel like the most beautiful and grandest woman in the world.
OOOO
Ginny had not seen Draco for the rest of the day. He had his own last minute business to deal with, and so she had spent the rest of the day discussing wedding details with her mother and Narcissa. The wedding was going to be very small and private. There would be no bridesmaids, no best men – only the holy man, the bride, the groom, and their close family. Ginny understood the reasons for this. It was a controversial marriage, for no one expected Draco to marry a Weasley, and she had an inkling that Narcissa did not wish the manor to be over-run with Weasleys and their friends. Ginny was surprised to find that she didn't really mind. She felt that it would be awkward, and who could imagine Hermione Granger and Harry Potter coming to her wedding with Draco Malfoy? She could just imagine the uproar it would cause, as well as the uncomfortable questions. Things were much more convenient this way, and it helped to know that Draco's side of the family and his friends would also be restricted.
Once night time had come, Ginny retired to her bedroom with an increased feeling of nervousness. Tomorrow was her last day of being single, and while she and Draco had worked out their differences, she was still worried about the future. There was no escaping the terrified feeling she had about the marriage, and it was to very uneasy dreams that Ginny finally fell asleep.
OOOO
The next day seemed to go ridiculously fast in Ginny's mind. Once again, she barely got a chance to see Draco. Everyone seemed to want his or her attention, and though she frequently caught his eye, it seemed that they never actually got a chance to talk. Ginny began to wonder if the others were doing it on purpose. Maybe they thought that if they kept the two of them apart then perhaps she and Draco would be more likely to not fret over the wedding. It was a ridiculous hope.
Draco had left later in the evening to go sort out the place where they would spend their honeymoon together. Ginny had nearly had a heart attack when she had found out where he had gone. She had very nearly forgot that they would be expected to go on a honeymoon. The wedding itself was frightening enough, but spending three days alone with Draco made her want to curl up and die – even if they had come to a new understanding. In fact, that only made things worse, for she had come to realise that he would have been far more likely to keep his distance if he still hated her. She was positively terrified at the thought that he might try and get amorous with her and could only hope that those three days would go by quickly.
Apart from fretting about the upcoming honeymoon, Ginny's thoughts were directed at the wedding itself. Everybody was stressing about getting things done, and even Narcissa seemed to be on tenterhooks. There was so little time left now, and everything had to be ready before tomorrow when all the guests would arrive. Ginny was not allowed to do much to help in terms of practical things. Her role for the wedding seemed to be to look pretty and not screw things up. This really didn't leave much for Ginny to do, and so she was simply left to wander around the house, wondering how it was that her life had come to this, and whether it was possible that she would wake up tomorrow and it would all be a dream. Merlin, she hoped she would.
Alexia had caused a little uproar by throwing another jealous tantrum. Ginny should have known it was coming, but it had not stopped her from being surprised all the same by the venomous confrontation.
Ginny had just been walking up the stairs to her room to go to bed when Alexia had appeared from the shadows on the landing, her acidic eyes positively dripping with hatred.
"Ginevra, I've been wanting to talk to you," Alexia said with a twisted smile.
Ginny, who had no desire to talk to the blonde, merely tried to walk on, but Alexia grabbed her wrist in a hard grasp.
"Let go of my wrist, Alexia," Ginny said coldly. She knew that any discussion with Alexia would only be vindictive and hurtful. She did not want to talk with Draco's cousin at all.
Alexia laughed softly. "You know, Weasley," she mused, her green eyes gleaming with derision, "you really did surprise me with snagging Draco like that. I never thought he would go with such a piece of blood-traitor trash like you, but obviously I was wrong." Her lips twisted into a cold smirk. "I wonder how long you will manage to keep him satisfied. It won't be long before he realises what a mistake he has made, and then he'll go looking for a better bed to share."
Ginny let out an amused snort. "And I suppose you'll be waiting with open legs for him?"
"I could satisfy him far more than you ever could," Alexia responded with a scowl. "You don't even deserve him."
Wrenching her wrist free, Ginny gave her own rendition of a mocking smirk. "That's the sad thing, isn't it, Alexia? You tried so hard, and yet I didn't try at all and he chose me. Doesn't life just suck like that?"
Alexia's face tinged with pink. Ginny started walking back towards her room, satisfied that she had managed to give a sharp set-down to the irritating woman. Alexia, however, was not to be dismissed so easily and whipped out her wand, sending a hex at Ginny's retreating back. Luckily for Ginny, Narcissa had been coming up the stairs at the same time and spotted her niece casting the hex, so was able to dispel it. The scolding that had followed had not been pretty, but Ginny had not stayed to hear it. She was, however, very delighted to know that Alexia had finally received her just desserts for being such a spiteful cow.
When Ginny finally collapsed on her bed that night, she could only stare with anxious eyes up at the roof. This was it. This was the last time she would be a free woman. Tomorrow she was going to be married to Draco Malfoy, and then everything would change.
Even with her acceptance of the marriage, nothing could prepare her for the gut-wrenching nerves that had taken a hold of her stomach. There was no escaping it, but wishful thinking couldn't hurt, and right now Ginny was really wishing herself somewhere else. She could not believe that tomorrow she was going to be married to Draco Malfoy, the man who had teased her relentlessly at school and had treated her so awfully.
She sighed and tried to go to sleep, but for a long time she lay awake, fretting and worrying over what would happen the next day. Whatever would happen, Ginny knew that she would not enjoy a single moment of it. This was the wedding she had been dreading for a long time, and it was only hours away . . .