29. Contempt

In the many months of their acquaintance, Narcissa Malfoy had desired sugar with her tea on exactly one occasion - the day that Ginny had neglected to offer it.

"And who are you, Ginny Weasley, to presume to know our taste in tea, in any matter?" the cool gaze had seemed to communicate.

With this in mind, the redhead now inquired, "Sugar, cream?" before mechanically adding a splash of cream to Narcissa's cup of Darjeeling and passing it to her, sans sugar.

The older witch murmured her thanks as her eyes darted about the room. "If you employed house-elves, your trunks would be undone, I'm sure," she commented.

"Ah, but Ginevra doesn't believe in employing house-elves, Mother," Draco said patiently from his perch on the window ledge, his eyes never leaving the set of envelopes he was sorting through. "Merlin's pants, you would think we were gone years rather than a week, with all these blasted owls we received."

Both women turned to him, and their eyes seemed to linger on his form with similar amounts of admiration. Draco looked like a god - golden and male, his hair was almost bleached white by the unrelenting tropical sun, and his eyes were pale and clear as winter ice. His linen shirt was unopened halfway down his toned chest, with the sleeves casually rolled halfway up the golden forearms. He cut such a striking image that it was difficult for Ginny to tear her eyes away when they met his.

"I fear the flat's a bit of a mess, Narcissa," she said at last in a tone that was rather unapologetic. "We'll unpack soon enough and regain some semblance of order. I don't think house-elves will be necessary, really."

Narcissa Malfoy's dark eyes turned to Ginny. "Undoubtedly." She smiled blandly. "For the sake of my son, it does comfort me to know that you are not opposed to the concept of fine living on principle, Ginevra. A whirlwind tropical holiday in the dead of winter is... quite the luxury."

The redhead bit her lip. She had felt as much, said as much; never could she have afforded a spur of the moment holiday on her Ministry drone's salary, let alone to a private villa in Tahiti.

The more she thought of it, the more Ginny's cheeks burned, but her horrendous tan mercifully concealed her blush of indignation - where Draco's fair skin took on a sheen of golden splendor in the sun, Ginny easily burned into a shade of red reminiscent of freshly cooked shrimp. After a week on the beach, the delicate skin of her nose had blistered and peeled, as had her shoulders. She had taken care to apply soothing balms and concealing charms, but Narcissa Malfoy's cold eyes seemed to glimpse through all embellishment, seemed to behold her entirely as she was, and seemed to find her wanting.

"And well, Ginevra?" A slight lift of the chin as rose-colored lips formed a thin smile, revealing a row of even, white teeth. "How was Tahiti?"


Prompt: Contempt

Word count: 500

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley