Author's Note: Just to clarify – Draco is not currently working on the cabinet. I've tried to hint that Voldemort has other plans in motion at the moment. But Draco's mission is coming soon. Also, a reminder that this story is RATED M. This chapter, and several future ones, will contain sexual situations.


Chapter 28: Belonging

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. Slughorn's office was draped with heavy, deep-colored hangings, which gave the illusion that they had left the castle altogether and stepped into some sort of ornate tent. A dozen or so House-elves roamed the room with enormous trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne and pale pink punch, and in one corner, Ginny spotted a long table displaying some of Slughorn's best wines.

Her eyes scanned over the crowd. She saw a few Slug Club members, including Flora and Hestia, who were standing in one corner. She made a mental note to go talk to them later. And there were several professors – she saw Professor Trelawney swinging her glass around drunkenly and trying to talk to an irritated-looking Professor Snape – but the rest were adults that Ginny didn't recognize.

Harry turned to her, eyebrows raised. "This is really –" he began.

"Harry, my boy! And the lovely Ginny!" Slughorn's booming voice echoed across the room, and the man himself made a bee-line for the entrance. He pushed himself between them and swung his arms around their shoulders. "There are some very interesting people here that I want you to meet."

Ginny glanced sidelong at Harry, who shot her a look that was half-amusement, half-alarm. She had to stifle a laugh, and he grinned.

Slughorn steered them toward a group of three men. "Harry, Ginny, this is Eldred Worple, a former student of mine and now a simply brilliant writer, I think everyone can agree."

Worple smiled broadly and shook their hands. Ginny noticed that he gripped Harry's particularly hard. "Mr. Potter, I am absolutely delighted to meet you!" he said, his eyes practically watering with enthusiasm, "I've actually been bandying around an idea for a new book, a biography of sorts, and I was wondering –"

"Now, now, Eldred," Slughorn interrupted, shaking his head like he was speaking to a small child, "let's save your pitch for after I've finished the introductions, shall we?"

Worple looked suitably embarrassed, and Slughorn continued. "This is Eldred's good friend – Sanguini, is it?"

The tall, rail-thin man next to Worple inclined his head slightly, but his eyes were fixed on Ginny. Her brow furrowed. He took her hand and brought it slowly to his lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said. His voice was smooth and silky, but it had a strange inflection that she couldn't place. "May I say," he continued, "you look exceedingly lovely tonight." Then he smiled, showing pointed canines, and Ginny felt her spine tingle – a vampire.

Worple laughed nervously and shoved a pasty off a nearby tray into his friend's hands. "You must forgive Sanguini, my dear," he said. "He seems quite taken with you." His eyes darted to Harry, as if he was worried he might fly into a jealous rage.

"She has such wonderful, unblemished, pale skin," Sanguini said defensively, sounding almost petulant.

Ginny nearly laughed. "Your skin's quite nice too, sir," she replied with a smile. Beside her, Harry snorted.

"And this," Slughorn cut in, sounding triumphant as he gestured to the third member of the group – a squat man, wearing spectacles a little too large for his face, "is Polonius Pond, the Daily Prophet editor I was telling you about. He has been overseeing the delightful series of articles about the two of you that have kept us all in raptures!"

Harry nearly choked, then coughed loudly to try to cover it up. Ginny just managed to stifle another bout of laughter and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Pond," she said sweetly.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Weasley," Pond said, smiling broadly.

"Well, I'll let you all get acquainted," Slughorn said, beaming. He moved off, and beside her, Harry recovered himself and held out his own hand to Pond.

"I trust that the two of you have been impressed by Miss Skeeter's work?" the man said. "It's quite rare to find someone so skilled at turns of phrase." He chuckled. "But then again, she's really quite an old hat at these sorts of articles."

"Well, she's quite an old something," Ginny said.

Harry barked out a laugh and Pond looked confused. "What?"

"Nothing at all," she said, still smiling.

Pond relaxed again. "As I was saying, I trust you're impressed by her impeccable writing style?"

"Yes," Harry put in, nodding soberly, "and by her accuracy. She must have dozens of investigators, fact-checkers…that sort of thing?"

Pond was still smiling, but he shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, yes, dozens."

"Well, we simply cannot wait for them to discover our latest bit of news," Ginny said.

Harry glanced at her, but she kept her gaze fixed on Pond, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes widened in anticipation.

"And what would that be?" he asked, his fingers twitching toward his breast pocket, where he was obviously carrying a notebook.

"Well, we don't want to spoil the surprise, now do we, Ginny?" Harry cut in smoothly. She grinned at him, taking a moment to appreciate how quickly he caught on to her little schemes.

She looped her arm through his and sighed theatrically. "It does seem a shame," she mused. "It would probably sell thousands and thousands of papers."

By now, Pond was practically drooling. He licked his lips. She waited just a moment more, then sighed again. "I suppose you're right," she said.

She paused, then smiled brightly. "Well, so nice to meet all of you!"

And then she and Harry walked away, leaving Polonius Pond looking like they'd just cancelled Christmas.

As soon as they were out of earshot, they dissolved into laughter.

"That was brilliant!" Harry said. He grabbed two flutes of punch off a passing tray and handed one to her.

"Although, you know he's going to send Skeeter digging for our big secret, and when she doesn't find one…."

"She'll make it up," Ginny finished, rolling her eyes. "I know." She grinned and took a swig of her drink. "It was worth it, though – for the look on his face. Anyway, I'm rather excited to see what she'll come up with."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You're really something, Ginny Weasley." He tipped back his own flute.

She had a thought, and her grin widened. "Care to make a wager?"

"About what?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"What she'll write, of course.

He laughed again, then met her eyes, considering. "I'll go with engagement," he said finally.

She shook her head. "Pregnancy. Much more scandalous."

Harry snorted, then shot her a cheeky grin. "I didn't think you were that kind of girl, Weasley," he teased.

"Which is exactly why it's so scandalous," she returned, grinning back.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!"

They turned. "Oh, bloody hell," Harry groaned. Eldred Worple was weaving through the crowd toward them, waving an arm over his head to get Harry's attention.

"Probably wants to get your permission to write that biography," Ginny observed amusedly. She took another swig of punch.

"Oh, right, laugh it up, Weasley," Harry grumbled. "You do realize that if I get stuck rejecting his book proposal for the next half hour, you're going to be right here with me."

By now, Worple was nearly to them. Harry grabbed her hand. "Come on." He pulled her away from Worple and wove around several groups of guests. "Keep your head down," he said.

Ginny laughed. "You are absolutely terrible at this," she teased. His glare only made her laugh harder. "You know," she continued as he tried to maneuver them between a very large woman wearing voluminous robes and the far wall, "your Invisibility Cloak has apparently become a real crutch. Without it, you can't hide for your life."

"Shhh," Harry said, trying to smother his own laughter. He tugged her around another group, glanced back to make sure Worple wasn't looking, and then pulled her out of the room altogether. He guided her down to a small alcove at the end of the corridor before he let go of her hand. "There. He won't find us now, will he?"

She shrugged noncommittally, a smile playing around her lips.

He rolled his eyes. "So little faith."

"But what will we do for drinks?" she challenged, swirling the remains of pink liquid around her glass.

"Infiltration missions," he deadpanned, and she laughed aloud.

They were silent for a moment, and Ginny leaned back against the stone window ledge to her right, propping her elbows up behind her. She let her head fall back slightly, and sighed. Suddenly, she heard Harry take a step toward her, and felt him take the champagne flute from where it dangled from her fingers.

She met his eyes quizzically as he set it down beside his own glass on the ledge. "What?" she asked, straightening a little.

He exhaled determinedly. "I like you, Ginny…a lot." He was closer than before, his expression much more sober, and her heart began to pound in her chest. She knew what was about to happen, and she felt a panic she hadn't expected well up in her throat just before he leaned in…and kissed her.

He was good at this. She could tell that immediately, and she wondered where he'd learned. He hadn't told her about any girls, and they were close enough that he would have told her, wouldn't he? But he was Harry Potter – the Harry Potter, she realized. There had been dozens of girls drooling over him all year.

Her stomach dropped. Any one of those girls would kill to be right here, being kissed by Harry Potter, who was kind and funny and a really, really good at this.

But all she could think about was the fact that his fingers should be tangling in the hair just behind her ear. His other hand should be pressed against the small of her back, and he should be slightly taller, and lankier. And he should taste a bit like mint….

He pulled away slightly, and she met his eyes – they were deep green, and full of something that made her hate that she wasn't one of those dozens of girls. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she breathed. "I –"

Suddenly, Harry's body was jerked away from her, and she only barely had time to register blonde hair and a dark shirt before a fist collided with his jaw.

"Draco!" she yelled, launching herself forward. "What are you –"

Harry had reeled back against the wall, but in a split second, he was upright, wand in hand.

"Harry, wait," Ginny said quickly, whirling on Draco. "What are you doing?" she demanded, pushing him back by his shoulders to put some space between him and Harry.

He stepped back willingly enough, breathing hard. His eyes were blazing, but they were fixed on her. "Gin," he said flatly, "we need to talk."

Something about the way he said it gave her pause, but then her chest exploded with frustration. "Yeah, we do," she snapped. "About what exactly you think you're doing. But not right now, because right now I have to make sure you haven't broken Harry's jaw with a random act of violence."

"He hasn't," Harry said darkly from behind her.

Draco's eyes flashed, but didn't leave hers. "We need to talk, all right?" he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Fine," she said, and she heard the sharp edge in her own voice. He didn't move. "Draco, I swear to Merlin –"

His gaze flicked past her to Harry, then back, and then he turned on his heel and disappeared back down the corridor. She waited until he rounded the corner before turning back to Harry. Her heart was running riot in her chest.

"Bloody hell, Harry," she said. "I'm so sorry."

He pocketed his wand and rubbed his palm experimentally along his jaw. He winced. "You should have let me hex him," he grumbled, scowling.

"Don't worry, I'll be hexing him later," she replied.

The slightest of smiles ghosted across his lips, but he sobered again in an instant. "Not exactly the way I envisioned this evening going," he said, and somehow she knew he wasn't just referring to Draco's punch.

She thought of the kiss and cringed. "I'm sorry about that too," she said. "I know it must have seemed like I was leading you on or –"

"I thought what everyone was saying about you and Malfoy was just rumors," he said, and she heard a thread of accusation in his voice. Merlin, did he think…?

"I'm not going out with him!" she said quickly. "No, it's not about him. It's about –"

She thought of Draco's fingers in her hair and his hand on her back and the way he tasted like mint….

"– something else," she finished lamely.

"Right," Harry said, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair, shook himself, then turned to consider her, expression serious. She felt like he was looking straight into her mind, and she had to force herself to hold his gaze. "Ginny," he said finally, "it's –"

"Harry, there you are!" He started, and she turned to see Hermione coming toward them, looking frazzled. "I have been looking all – Merlin, what happened?"

She rushed forward, her heels clacking loudly against the floor, and tilted Harry's head bodily to one side to get a better look at his jaw, where a bruise was already darkening along his jawline.

"Malfoy happened," he said. "Ow! Bloody hell, Hermione."

"Malfoy?" She slapped his hand away and continued observing the bruise from different angles.

"I should go," Ginny said.

Harry put his hands on Hermione's shoulders so that she paused in her fussing. "Okay, Ginny," he said, meeting her eyes again. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

She nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah, sure."

Then she turned and headed down the corridor. She had someone else to talk to – and hex, if she got her way – first.


Draco rubbed his hands roughly over his face, then reached up to grip the mantelpiece so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He leaned his head against his extended arm. Every muscle in his body was taut, and he found that he couldn't stand still. He slapped his hand against the wood in frustration.

He'd gotten to the corridor outside Slughorn's office, heard Potter's voice, seen him kiss her…and completely lost it. To realize that Weasley should be his after all this time, and then to lose her to Potter at the very last moment –

"Malfoy, what's wrong with you?" Daphne asked wonderingly from a ring of sofas nearby, where she was sitting with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"You look like you've had a stroke," Pansy put in, giving him a look of concern that he knew from experience was complete bullshit.

"You have no idea what a stroke is, do you, Parkinson?" he snapped.

She flushed and opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the sound of someone storming down the Common Room corridor.

Ginny appeared from around the corner. Her bun had loosened, and a mess of copper strands glowed around her neck in the dim light from the wall sconces behind her. Her eyes, which were blazing with fury, found him immediately. "What the fuck, Malfoy?" she said loudly.

The heads of every person in the Common Room darted between them. She started toward him, but he crossed the room faster and grabbed her by the arm. "Are you and Potter together?" he hissed.

She shot him a look. "No, we're not," she snapped. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

He felt a heady relief course through his body, but then she pulled bodily from his grasp, dragging him back to reality. He set his jaw. "Yeah," he said darkly, grabbing her arm again and pulling her toward the entrance. "Yeah, I think I have."

Over her protests, he half-dragged her out of the Common Room, up the dungeon stairs, down several corridors. He didn't know where they were going, really. He just knew that they needed to talk – somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted.

Finally, in the middle of a deserted hallway somewhere on the sixth floor, or maybe it was the seventh, she'd had enough. She ground them to a halt and yanked away from him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?" she yelled.

His heart was pounding in his ears, and every muscle in his body was tense. He couldn't remember ever being this agitated, this on edge.

"What makes you think," she demanded, "that you can just walk up and punch my date in the face?"

Draco felt a flash of annoyance at the word. "You don't belong with him," he said flatly.

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, that was obviously not it. She swallowed whatever words had been on the edge of her tongue and stared at him for a second, all of the air going out of the rant she'd obviously worked up over the past few minutes.

Then suddenly, she rolled her eyes and tipped her head back to bark out a mirthless laugh. "Oh, Merlin, you have got to be kidding me," she groaned. "I am so tired of you keeping tabs on me like I can't fucking take care of myself. Stop acting like you're my older brother, and just –"

Now it was his turn to bark out a laugh. "Trust me, Ginny. I do not want to be your brother."

That silenced her again, and this time he watched something like understanding flash across her features. He ran agitated hands over his face and barreled forward. "Why aren't we together, Gin?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked testily, gesturing between them. He could tell that she was stalling. "We are together."

"No, together together," he insisted.

"Maybe because we've hardly spoken in six months," she retorted.

"Don't tell me they haven't been miserable for you, too."

"Yeah," she replied. "They've been shit. But it doesn't change the fact that after what happened, you were a lousy friend, Draco."

He made a frustrated sound. "You know what?" he said, his fingers clenching into fists, "you're right. I was a lousy friend, and I'm sorry. I panicked, and I thought that if I acted like it wasn't a big deal then it wouldn't be – and we could go back to being just friends and there wouldn't be any consequences at all. I thought we could save our friendship. But you know what I realized, Ginny? Just now?"

He looked her right in the eyes. "What?" she asked. She crossed her arms over her chest like she was still angry, but her voice was hoarse around the word.

"We've never been just friends, the two of us," he continued. "We were enemies, and then we were allies, and then you were in that fucking Chamber and before I knew it, I couldn't have a thought without telling you about it, and then I didn't even have to tell you, because you already knew."

He paused, breathing hard, and ran his hands over his face again. He realized that he must look like he really had lost his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He met her gaze, watched her flinch, and knew the some of the fierceness he felt must be reflected in his eyes. "There isn't a word, Gin – not even a cheesy, trite one – that describes what you are to me, and I was a fucking idiot to think that we could ruin our just friendship, because you can't ruin what doesn't exist, and you sure as hell can't save it."

She exhaled slowly. "Draco," she breathed, not looking away, "it's not that simple…."

He felt a bubble of laughter well up inside him. "Thank Merlin for that," he interrupted. "If it was simple, you'd be a Gamp, or a Greengrass, or a Parkinson. Luckily, you're not. So what if my parents hate you, and the feeling's entirely mutual? When you find what we have, you have to take the fucking hint and stop looking."

He fell silent, still breathing hard, and waited for her to respond. His mouth was dry, and he could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears, pounding out the seconds as they passed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a hint of a smile ghosted over her lips. "We've never been very good at taking hints, have we?" she whispered.

He exhaled, his chest filling with something warm – maybe relief, maybe something more. "No," he agreed, smiling back. And in two strides he crossed the space between them, grasped her face between his hands, and met her eyes. "No more looking," he said, and then he bent his head and kissed her.


"Here," he managed to say, his voice thick and hoarse. He tore himself away from her for just long enough to think of what they needed, and then to push open the door to the Room of Requirement. Her lips found his again as they stumbled over the threshold.

There was a dull thud and a click as he pressed her back against the door, and he pushed the length of his body up against hers with enough force that she gasped. In the next moment, her tongue swept into his mouth, and now he groaned, tasting something sweet and tart all at once, like fruit. His fingers tangled into the hair at the back of her head and his other palm slipped around to the small of her back to pull her closer. She laughed a little against his lips.

"What?" he managed breathlessly.

"Don't worry about it, Malfoy," she breathed back, and even in the dimness of the room, which was lit only by the flickering light of a fire in the grate, he could make out the challenging glint in her eyes. He laughed lightly and captured her mouth once more.

She reached between them for the buttons of his shirt, and he groaned again at the back of his throat as her fingertips began to brush against his skin, lower and lower, until finally they were all undone and she shoved the fabric off his shoulders. He shifted out of it, his lips never leaving hers as it fell to the ground with a soft sound.

The half-crazed agitation he'd felt earlier was morphing into something else. He was incredibly warm, and there was a dizzying kind of heat pooling at the base of his stomach. And his whole body was humming with need – to keep tasting her and touching her and to feel her skin against his –

He ran his palm from her back around her body to grip her hip through the silky fabric of her dress, and then – he couldn't have controlled his body if he'd wanted to – he ground himself against her, up against the wall. The pressure made him see white, and she moaned, her head falling back slightly.

He did it again, the palm at the back of her head coming up to brace against the wood of the door above her head, and then he slid his other hand all the way up her back to fumble at the zipper of her dress.

He hissed as her lips found the pulse point of his neck. Her fingers were running across the bare skin of his back, across his sides, up his chest, and now they were toying with his belt buckle, and he shifted to press her across the room toward the bed.

"Ginny," he breathed, sliding the zipper of her dress halfway down. It was a half-question, but Merlin, he wanted her, and if she told him to stop now –

She met his eyes, brown on grey, and deliberately held his gaze as she undid his belt buckle. His breath caught, and he felt a jolt of desire pulse straight through his body.

He pulled the zipper all the way down, ran his hands up her sides once more so the fabric bunched beneath his fingers, then slid the dress off her shoulders. It fell to the ground in a pool of green satin.

"Ginny…." he breathed.

But he couldn't finish his thought, because her lips crashed into his in a fierce kiss. And she was fumbling at the button of his pants, then pushing them over his hips, and suddenly the heat was overwhelming and he was pressing her down onto the bed. His body bucked against hers, and there was less fabric and more friction, and it was almost unbearably good, and –

"Merlin, Draco, please," she moaned, and Gods, he didn't think he'd ever wanted anything as much as he wanted her right now.

She pushed down the fabric of his boxers, and he slid her knickers down her legs, and when he finally pressed into her, his fingers fisted in the sheets and he groaned hard against the skin of her neck. "Fuck, Gin…."

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to hold himself still until her harsh and halting breaths slowed to normal, and she murmured that he should keep going. And moments later when she gasped that he shouldn't stop and captured his lips with hers, he knew he couldn't if he'd wanted to. Her palms were running hard lines up and down his back, and she was gasping his name over and over into his ear, and soon it was all too much, and he was groaning, "Ginny" and a litany of words that he couldn't understand into the crook of her neck and hurtling blindly, maddeningly over the edge.


It was hours later; he didn't know exactly how long. After the frenzied, frantic, almost desperation of that first time, they had come together again, and this time he had made sure she enjoyed it as much as he did. And then they had fallen into easy conversation, talking and laughing about everything they had missed over the past six months. Merlin, he'd missed just talking her.

Now they were curled together beneath the bed sheets, their faces pressed close.

His fingertips skimmed along her shoulder, down the length of her arm to the elbow, then down her side and over the curve of her hip; his eyes traced their path, and he wondered at the way she nearly glowed in the flickering firelight that filtered through the sheet.

"Draco?" she whispered.

"Mm?" He skimmed his palm back up her body, reveling in the warmth and smoothness of her bare skin.

"What are we going to do?"

He met her eyes, brows raised. "Be together, of course," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Merlin, woman," he said, rolling his eyes and shifting so he was above her, propped up by his elbows on either side of her head, "do I have to make that bloody speech all over again?"

She gave him a soft shove. "Fuck off," she laughed. "I'm trying to give you an out, you git."

"I don't want an out," he replied. "I'm in lo –"

"I'm a big girl, you know," she cut in, shooting him a skeptical look. "You don't have to say that just because we –"

"For fuck's sake, Gin," he said with an exasperated laugh. "Do you want an out?"

She swallowed, then shook her head. "No. Not even a little." Her voice had quieted back to a murmur, and he grinned, shaking his head.

"Good," he replied, lowering his voice to match hers. "Neither do I, so stop trying to give me one." He threaded his fingers in her hair and turned her head so he could look her full in the eyes.

"I love you," he whispered.

She exhaled, and he wondered if she had been holding her breath, and then she smiled and cupped his face in her palms. She pulled him down to her, and just before their lips met, she whispered four words back. "I love you, too."


Author's Note: Finally! This was definitely a chapter I was looking forward to writing from the beginning. Now might be a good time to go back and re-read the prologue ;) However, they still have plenty of trials ahead, so stay tuned!

Please take the time to review. As I've said before, only a fraction of you ever bothers, and reviews mean a lot to me. So make me happy and give me your thoughts!