29. Contempt [400]


Ginny was well aware that she was meant to be that kind and compassionate one. She'd been stereotyped that way her whole life, what with the whole "baby sister" and "Gryffindor" and even "good guy" roles she daily played out. For the most part, she was kind, compassionate, and forgiving. Snarky, maybe, and fond of teasing – but never really ill-willed, and she didn't hate much other than Dark Wizards.

However, Ginny did hold several things in very deep contempt.

One of these things was the man she was currently kissing.

Of course, given that, it would be a wonder that she was kissing him, enthusiastically at that, but everyone has secrets in their life they'd rather not speak about. This was Ginny's and she was practically plastered to Draco Malfoy, clutching him as if he was all that kept her alive. He held on just as tightly, and they made love like there was no tomorrow.

They did this perhaps twice a month.

Ginny held no respect for Draco and frankly didn't consider him worth even – well, considering. She completely ignored him and his dubious lifestyle the other twenty-eight days a month, but every now and then the pressure in her own life built up to boiling point and it needed a release (especially when Harry was still such a bloody idiot about everything) and somehow Draco had become that.

She couldn't even remember how. Ginny tried not to think about Draco at all, even when in his arms, and she mostly succeeded. He didn't exactly care about her either – it wasn't as if they talked much. Their relationship was pretty straightforwardly stress-release and nothing more. Ginny would arrive by Floo when she felt the urge and if Draco was available (which he sometimes wasn't) they would barely exchange hellos before she had crossed the room and kissed him. After the initial kiss there was never any hesitation, not even when she woke and left him still sleeping.

Ginny despised Draco, but she did need him. And as a result she couldn't quite suppress his existence or importance to her as much as she wished. Sometimes her control slipped and she pictured the impossible image of grey eyes actually looking at her tenderly.

If she'd ever looked at his face during the split-second she stepped out of his fireplace, she may really have seen them.