Chapter 21: Attraction

The last night of summer

"So am I flattered or offended?"

Draco shrugged reflexively, though he knew Ginny couldn't see him. He shut his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, letting the warm spray of water wash away the last suds of shampoo. "No idea," he replied. "On the one hand, she was a Black, and I think she and my mum were close when they were young. On the other, she did marry some idiotic Muggleborn…."

"And was consequently blasted out of metaphorical existence?" she replied wryly.

"Right." He turned to shut off the water. "Pass me the towel, will you? And the clothes, too."

He could hear Ginny moving around outside, and then she tossed his fluffy blue towel and two pieces of fabric over the top of the shower door.

"It's probably a safer bet to go with offended, isn't it?"

He laughed as he dried himself off and pulled on his boxers and t-shirt. "Probably."

When he emerged, he found Ginny sitting casually on the countertop, already in her own pajamas. Her hair was still wet from her own shower, and it swung down to the small of her back.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding to the bottles in her lap – six of them, held together by plastic rings. They clinked together as she held them up, and he scanned the labels as he headed out into the bedroom. "Firewhiskey?"

She grinned and hopped off the counter to follow him. "A bit stronger, but essentially. It's our last night of freedom," she said. "And I figure by tomorrow morning you'll be in full Prefect mode." She nodded toward his train bag, which stood half-open on top of the dresser. His robes were hanging over the edge, his brand new Prefect badge shiny on the lapel. "And you won't let us get away with anything."

He smiled and gestured for her to toss him one. He popped the cap, taking a long swig and steeling himself as the liquid burned strong down his throat. "Don't worry," he said with a grin. He crossed the room to sink down on the sofa. "I'm not above favoritism."

"Well, that makes me feel better," she replied, settling herself beside him. She folded her legs beneath her so she was cross-legged, her knees pressing against his right thigh, and clinked her bottle against his with a wide smile. "To Prefect corruption."

He smirked. "Toasting corruption? Blaise and I have taught you well," he mused, taking another swig. This one burned a little less. His throat was already going numb. Bloody hell, this was strong stuff.

An hour and a half later found them sprawled across his bed, the blankets and sheets in a mess around them. Her head was settled in the crook of his shoulder, and his fingers were tangling distractedly in her hair. Draco felt a bit like he was floating…the alcohol had blazed through his system, leaving him pretty far along the road to being drunk.

"Do you think there's something about me that just attracts older brother figures?" Ginny mused, taking a sip of her drink.

"What are you on about?"

"Older brother figures," she repeated. "I always have them in excess. There were my real older brothers," she continued, counting off on her fingers. "And then Cedric…and even Harry and Neville tell me to be careful every chance they get. And I've had you and Blaise for years…."

Draco couldn't help snorting.

He watched her brow furrow. "What?"

"Nothing," he murmured, smirking now.

She disentangled their limbs and flipped over onto her stomach. "What?"

"Nothing," he repeated, laughing.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile playing around her lips. "I'm being serious. Graham Ives – do you know him? My year." He nodded. "He told me something rather…alarming at the beginning of the summer. He said there are boys who fancy me who –"

"Who's the one with the oversized ego now?"

She hit him and shot him a glare that made him laugh harder before continuing. "– who won't ask me out because they're worried you might hex off their bollocks or something."

"He actually said they're afraid I'll 'hex off their bollocks?'"

"No, but I think that would be your punishment method of choice, don't you?"

"Mm, sounds plausible." He paused. "Well, whatever Graham Ives" – he said the name skeptically, and Ginny smirked – "may have said about me, I'm one hundred percent certain that Zabini does not want to be your older brother."

Her eyebrows went up and she regarded him for a moment, blinking. Then she nodded slowly. "That explains it, then."

Now his eyebrows went up. "What do you mean?"

"He's been writing me this summer."

"He writes you every summer."

"Thanks, genius," she teased, leaning her head down on her hand and running her bottle thoughtfully along her bottom lip. "No, it's been different this time. Flirty, of course."

"Of course," Draco agreed, taking a last swig of whiskey to finish his bottle – was it his fifth? He leaned over to set it on the floor beside the bed.

"But also strangely sincere, like he's got something to prove." She paused, then rolled her eyes. "And he hasn't boasted about any of his recent conquests."

He laughed. "You are talking about our Blaise Zabini, right?"

"Shocked as I am to admit it."

Draco's brows rose to his hairline as he watched her expression, and he had a sudden thought. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Would you say yes, if he asked you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe just to find out what all the fuss is about."

He laughed, letting his head fall back. "Classy."

"Says Draco Malfoy."

"Mm, touché."

She reached out, grinning, and ruffled his hair. He protested, feigning annoyance like he always did, but he realized that his protests were rather half-hearted right now. Her fingertips felt good across his scalp. "Merlin," she said after a moment, "it's bloody freezing in here. I'm opening a window."

She pushed herself up and deposited her bottle on the bedside table, and he watched her as she crossed the room. She ran a hand through her hair as she threw open the window, and the warm summer breeze filtered through the copper strands, tousling them around her face. When she came back toward the bed, a smile on her face, he saw that she was flushed pink from the whiskey.

She stepped up so she was standing on the bed, her right arm raised above her and her hand holding onto the top of the canopy, helping her balance. He looked up at her as she walked along the bottom of the mattress, and he realized with a jolt at the base of his stomach, that his eyes were skimming of their own accord from her face down the curve of her neck and lower, to where the breeze was making her long sleeping shirt cling to her.

He exhaled, suddenly thinking of what Blaise had said at the party, months ago.

I mean, bloody hell, look at her.

He vaguely remembered thinking that he didn't need to look, because he already knew Ginny was good-looking and had since the Yule Ball. But that had been different, somehow. There was a difference between thinking someone looked pretty and thinking they looked…well….

He met her eyes and felt another jolt in his stomach.

Just how much whiskey had he had, anyway?

"Do you believe in soul mates?" she asked suddenly, and now she had looked away from him and was studying the constellations of the canopy up close.

He shut his eyes tight for a moment, recovering. "Now I know you're not talking about Zabini," he joked.

She laughed. "I'm talking about us, you idiot," she said. "You know, soul mates – people who know each other better than they know themselves, who need each other…all that. Do you think that's us?"

"I think two people can know each other really well and need each other without putting a cheesy label on it," he replied, smirking.

She made a sound of mock offense and collapsed beside him, obviously with the full intention of hitting him around the head, but Draco cut her off by doing something reckless.

He didn't think about it, and he was half certain his body was acting without input from his brain anyway.

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her.

She responded immediately, which made him wonder just how much she'd had to drink, but then her tongue swept eagerly into his mouth, and he wasn't wondering anything anymore. He groaned lightly, felt her smile against his lips, and his left hand slid into her hair and then down her back. He could feel that her skin was hot through the thin fabric of her pajamas.

Her own fingers were running up and down his sides, teasing every few seconds against the bottom of his t-shirt, like she wasn't quite sure whether or not she wanted to pull it off him, and his mind was just beginning to process what it would mean if she did, when she pulled suddenly away.

She was breathing hard, and she shifted so they weren't touching. He found that he was holding his breath, and that even through the slight haze of the whiskey, he could still process the uncomfortable thought that he'd made a horrible mistake. But then she looked up at him, a cheeky smile on her face, and flopped down on her back beside him.

"You should be careful where you put that tongue, Malfoy," she said, her voice lilting with humor. "It's going to get you in trouble one day."

He grinned. He could always count on Ginny to be…easygoing about these things. He sank down off his elbows, and they lay there in silence for a moment before she turned her body toward him, curled against his side, and asked him teasingly if he was going to be a hypocrite during Prefect rounds and dock points when he found people snogging in broom cupboards.

They talked easily for another hour, about school and Quidditch and nothing at all, and as sobriety began to settle, letting him see in stark clarity again, he couldn't help thinking that it was a good thing Ginny had stopped whatever that had been, because he sure as hell hadn't been in control.

That thought left his chest tight with apprehension. And as Ginny pressed herself closer against him, her eyes heavy with sleep, he thought that bloody hell….

He was well and truly fucked.

Because, he realized, soul mates or not, he was achingly physically attracted to his best friend.

Fuck.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Ginny didn't bother opening her eyes.

She and Draco had stayed up late last night drinking and talking and laughing and kissing. She resisted the urge to shake her head amusedly. He'd kissed her out of the blue, and hard. She had meant what she'd said – that tongue, especially when mixed with strong Firewhiskey, was going to get him in trouble someday.

But now it was the morning after, the Express was barreling through the countryside, and she was exhausted.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Whose is that?" Crabbe's voice.

"No idea," Goyle replied.

"Well don't you think someone ought to let it in?" Blaise said impatiently from above her. Her head was resting in his lap, and his fingers were running lazily through her hair.

She heard one of them get up to unlatch the window, then rustling, and then felt an envelope fall directly on her stomach. She opened her eyes just in time to see the bird disappear out the window. "Apparently it's for you," Blaise said amusedly.

She pushed herself upright and turned the envelope over, recognizing the handwriting immediately. Why the hell was Percy writing to her, of all people? She slid her finger beneath the flap and broke the seal before she realized that Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise were all staring at her expectantly.

She shot them all a dry look. "I'm going to go read this outside," she said. She smirked at the look of mock-hurt Blaise gave her as she left.

Out in the corridor, a few groups of students were standing in cramped semi-circles, talking loudly about their summers and catching up. Ginny glanced up the train; somewhere in one of the forward compartments, Draco and Parkinson were in their first Prefect meeting of the year.

She leaned against the side of the train and unfolded the letter.

Dear Ginny,

As you may have been informed, I have parted ways with our family.

Ginny stopped short, shocked. When had this happened? She forced her eyes back to Percy's neat script.

I was promoted to the position of Minister Fudge's Junior Assistant about a month ago, and Dad and I got into an argument about his and Mum's continued support of Potter and the anti-Ministry lies he has been spreading. Unfortunately, our disagreement got somewhat out of hand, and I have been forced to distance myself from him and the rest of our family. I am confident that this is the correct course of action.

I know that you took similar steps at the beginning of the summer. Though you acted for different reasons, I believe that you did exactly the right thing by placing your trust in Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy. I know that it will be difficult for you to continue in this course now that the Hogwarts term is beginning once more. Professor Dumbledore is supportive of Potter and will doubtless try to influence the students, despite the precautions Minister Fudge has taken.

Ginny's brow creased at that last bit. Precautions?

Furthermore, it's likely that the twins and Ron will try to convince you to return to the family.

She suppressed a snort at that. Not bloody likely. They were probably so angry that they wouldn't speak a word to her all term.

However, I want you to know that you are acting correctly in all of this and should not be swayed by Dumbledore, our family, or anyone else. If the two of us carry on as we are, I think we may be able to increase the respectability of the Weasley name.

Please don't hesitate to write to me if you feel the need.

Warm regards from your brother,

Percy

She refolded the letter slowly, not sure what to make of it. Percy had always obeyed authority…Fred and George used to joke that he loved rules more than girls. Growing up with six siblings, she understood the impulse. The Burrow was loud, crazy, chaotic – she couldn't blame Percy for craving the structure.

She knew he was wrong though. Harry wasn't spreading lies, and the Minister was deluding himself. She shivered. She had been dreaming about Tom and those red eyes for months.

The cold jolt of fear was followed swiftly by a pang of something like guilt. The Weasley household was two children short now. Her mum must be devastated. She swallowed.

"Ginny?"

She looked up. Harry had just emerged from the compartment across from her and was looking at her questioningly.

"Hi," she said. Through the small window, she could just make out Luna and Neville sitting in his compartment.

"Did you…" – he gestured vaguely – "need something?"

"Oh, no," she said quickly, straightening. She realized that her lingering around his compartment door must have seemed odd. "I was just reading this…wanted a bit of privacy."

"Oh, right," he said. "You looked a bit uncomfortable. Everything all right?"

She glanced down at the letter before refolding it and stuffing it into her back pocket. "Yeah," she said. Harry leaned his shoulders back against the compartment door. "Just Percy."

She watched his jaw twitch and raised her eyebrows. "I just saw him," he explained. "At my disciplinary hearing. He was the scribe."

Ginny had heard about the hearing. Lucius had mentioned it in passing at dinner a few weeks back…something about Harry performing serious underage magic in his aunt and uncle's Muggle neighborhood. "I assume by the fact that you're here that it went well?" she asked.

His lips tilted in a wry smile at that. "Yeah, I suppose it did." He paused. "So how was your –"

"Excuse me, dears. Coming through." He was cut off by the snack lady, who bustled toward them, sweets of all kinds swaying precariously on her cart. She and Harry both straightened to make room between them, but the woman shot Harry a peeved look. "I need to get to the doors," she said, her tone clearly suggesting that he was a bit dim.

"Right." He crossed the corridor in two steps to stand next to Ginny. "Actually, do you want something?" he asked suddenly, turning to look down at her.

Her eyes swept over the cart as the woman pulled open the compartment door and said something to Luna and Neville. "I might get a chocolate frog," she said. "They're a bit of a weakness of mine," she added, grinning at him as she fished in her pocket for her coins.

"No, no," Harry said, putting a hand on her arm to still her movements. "Don't worry – I got it. I was going to get a few frogs anyway."

"Thanks, Harry, but it's not a big deal. I can –" But before she could finish, he had already paid and was holding out a frog.

"Thanks," she said, smiling. She ripped away the packaging.

"Who'd you get?" she asked, glancing over to him.

"Dippet," he said. He bit into his frog. "You?"

"Andros the Invincible."

"Mm, nice. He produced the giant-sized Patronus, right?"

She nodded, smirking. "Must've been some memory."

He laughed. "I'll say." She realized they were the only two students on this train who would know how good a memory Andros must've called up, because they were the only two who could produce Patronuses of their own. Harry seemed to be thinking the exact same thing, because he grinned at her.

"So how was your –" He stopped himself short, something guarded entering his expression. She knew he'd been about to ask about her summer, then remembered where she'd spent it. But he was saved from deciding whether or not ask by someone clearing their throat beside her.

"Graham," she greeted him, smiling. He was already in his robes, and he looked a bit tanner than she remembered. She recalled that in one of his letters he'd mentioned a trip to Italy in mid-July.

He smiled back. "Ginny. I thought it was you I heard out here."

"Harry, this is Graham Ives," she said. "He's in my year. And Graham, I'm sure you know –"

"Who doesn't?" Graham cut in. He made a derisive sound, and Ginny's brow furrowed.

Harry's walls were back up. He held out a hand, but his eyes skimmed warily over Graham's Slytherin robes. Graham didn't take it, instead just raising his eyebrows, and after a moment, Harry dropped his arm. "I think I better go back in," he said shortly. "I'm sure Ron and Hermione will be back from the Prefect meeting soon."

At that, Ginny's eyebrows went up to her hairline. Ron – a Prefect? But Harry had already re-entered his compartment, and the door slid shut behind him. After a moment, she turned to Graham. "So, how was Italy?" she asked.

He smiled, a genuine smile now. "It was good," he said. "And the rest of your summer?"

Several weeks later

Draco sat with his legs outstretched on the coffee table and an arm draped easily around Marcia's shoulders. Blaise was lying on the sofa opposite, his head in one of Marcia's friend's lap. Draco didn't know her name. He didn't think Blaise did either.

"I never go to the perfume shop in Hogsmeade," whatever-her-name-was said.

"No?" Blaise replied lazily.

"No," she continued, voice bouncing enthusiastically. Draco smirked, wondering how she couldn't hear the utter boredom in Blaise's voice. "My mum sends me a new bottle every two months. It's much better quality."

"I'll bet."

Across the room, another group of students came in, laughing and swinging their shopping bags. Today had been the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, but by now the sun was setting outside, and everyone was filtering back to the Common Room.

As the girl carried on, Draco leaned his head back against the sofa and shut his eyes. He was tired. Snape had seen fit to appoint bloody Montague Captain of the Quidditch team, even though he'd only been an alternate player two years ago – and a damn bad one at that, Draco thought derisively. And Captain Montague was making them practice every day at ridiculous hours. He ran a hand over his eyes. Of course, the fact that he and Ginny had to get up even earlier so she could sneak out of his bed before Blaise woke up wasn't helping matters.

Marcia moved closer, molding herself against his side, but he didn't move in response.

Ginny. It was getting increasingly difficult to hide the fact that he found her really fucking attractive. At the first Prefect meeting – the one on the Express – he'd been distracted as all hell, the memory of kissing her the night before playing over and over in his mind…the way she'd smelled and tasted and felt against him….

He had hoped, then, that it had just been the alcohol, and that once the year got started, the attraction would fade. But of course, it hadn't, and several nights over the last few weeks, he'd dreamed – really dreamed – about her, only to wake up, sweating, with her body curled against his in his bed. On each of these occasions, it had taken real willpower to disentangle their limbs and force himself out of the four-poster and into the loo. When he'd come back, she'd been sitting up, hair tousled from sleep, and had asked if he was all right.

Gods, it was bloody impossible. What the hell was wrong with him? This was Gin – little Ginny Weasley, his best friend – for Merlin's sake!

A light nudge against his shoe pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up sharply to see Blaise nodding over his shoulder.

Speak of the devil. Ginny and Graham Ives had just come in – from their Hogsmeade date, Draco noted wryly – and they were lingering in the entrance corridor. As he watched, Ives leaned in to say something next to Ginny's ear, and she smiled and nodded. And then Ives turned ever-so-slightly, ran a hand along her arm, and kissed her.

Draco felt a sharp flash of jealousy, followed swiftly by a pang of annoyance at himself. Gritting his teeth, he pushed all that down, then plastered an amused smile on his face to match the hooting and catcalls of the other students in the Common Room.

Ginny pulled away, flushed, and flashed Ives another smile before shooting the general room a sardonic look. Ives strode toward the boys' staircase, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. Some other idiot Fourth Year actually clapped him on the back, Draco noted, suppressing an eye-roll. Meanwhile, Ginny scanned the sofas. She spotted them and headed over.

"Shall we assume the date went well?" he asked as she sank down on Blaise's sofa. She prodded Blaise's outstretched shoe, and he sat upright, shaking his head in annoyance when Marcia's friend tried to lean her head on his shoulder. Draco smirked at the offended look on her face, but Blaise didn't even notice. He had turned his body completely to face Ginny.

"Mm," she responded. She was feigning nonchalance, but Draco saw the satisfied smile playing around her lips. Apparently it had gone very well. He tried to ignore the second jolt of annoyance this sent through his chest.

"So?" Blaise asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Ginny's eyes darted to Marcia and her friend, and Draco knew she wasn't about to share details in front of them if she could help it. Outside their little trio, she'd always kept things close to the chest.

"Give us a second, will you, Marcia?" he asked easily. She started in surprise, then shot him a miffed look. He just regarded her coolly. After a moment, she and her friend got up and stalked off.

"So?" Blaise repeated, slinging an arm around Ginny's shoulder now.

"Went really well," she said.

"We saw," Draco replied. "Or rather, the whole Common Room saw," he added, echoing the words she'd said to him years ago. She met his eyes and grinned, obviously remembering it too.

"It was very tame, I assure you," she said. "Drinks, walked around a bit…nothing untoward."

"He's an amateur, obviously," Blaise teased.

"Careful," she returned, grinning. "That's my boyfriend you're talking about."

Draco's eyebrows went up to his hairline.

She caught his look and rolled her eyes. "Like I said – it went really well."

"You didn't say that well," Blaise replied. His tone was light, but for the briefest second, Draco saw disappointed annoyance flash across his expression. But then it was gone, and he was back to his usual careless demeanor. "I'm heartbroken, Weasley. We would be so good together."

She snorted, nudging her shoulder against his side. "All talk, no action, Zabini."

Draco laughed. "Actually, if I recall correctly, you got all the talk and Samantha Vaisey got all the action."

Ginny burst into laughter. "Oh, fuck off," Blaise said, aiming a kick at his foot, but he was grinning.

"Well if it's any consolation, Zabini," Draco continued easily, "you won't be the only heartbroken man in this school. Scarhead will be devastated."

Blaise laughed, but Ginny just looked utterly confused. "What?" she said.

"You haven't heard the rumors?" Blaise asked.

"I never seem to, do I?" she replied dryly.

"Apparently Saint Potter has a crush on you," Draco explained.

A pause, then Ginny barked out a laugh. "Unlikely," she said dismissively.

"Well your boyfriend's been telling everyone he was flirting with you on the train," Blaise replied. "And he has been staring an awful lot at meals…."

"Wait a second," Ginny cut in, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "He was not flirting with me on the train. We talked for all of ten minutes and then he bought me a chocolate frog."

"He bought you a chocolate frog?" Blaise asked, eyes gleaming with sudden mirth. "That probably was the flirting. You know, probably –"

"Oh, Merlin, let me guess," she said, rolling her eyes again. "Typical Gryffindor seduction tactics?"

Blaise smirked. "Exactly," he replied.

Draco snorted. He leaned his head back against the sofa and shut his eyes once more, smiling amusedly.

The three of them sat there, talking and laughing, for several more hours as the Common Room emptied around them. Finally, around one in the morning, they headed up their respective staircases.

Ginny didn't sneak into Draco's bed that night.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Author's Note: I'll keep this short. I'm really looking forward to your thoughts on this chapter, so please review!