Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. But the plot and various characters are still mine, and if you take any of it without my consent I will have your head. Literally.
A/N* I'm sorry this took so long to get out – I had finals and school and not much time leftover to finish my fanfiction, but its here, so be happy for that. Again, hugs to my wonderful beta Priscilla (btw, a week is NOT long at all – don't worry about it ^^) and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 9. Here Without You
Ginny Weasley was shell-shocked.
Draco Malfoy had kissed her. He had kissed her, and he had kissed her like he meant it. Like he wanted to. Like he wanted her.
She had waited seven years for that bloody kiss.
"Damn it," she growled to herself, stalking up the stairs. She did not need this and she did not need him, not now, not when everything was going so well. Anyways, he had run, fleeing away from his house and away from her, into the dark where she couldn't follow him.
At any rate, Ginny told herself, she shouldn't follow him, nor should she want to. This was Draco Malfoy, the man she had convinced herself of loving and the one man she would never have. But I did have him, a tiny voice said, I had him in the most intimate way possible.
The scene played itself over and over in her head. Their argument, the scalding kiss, the shock on Draco's face, and the hurt that had pounded in her heart as he turned away from her. The wishful part of her had expected him to come back, but he didn't. Sorrowfully, she'd resumed dinner with Sebastian, tucked him in, and had fallen asleep on his couch.
And the next morning, when Narcissa came for Sebastian, Draco still had not returned. The message to her was clear: he was obviously not returning anytime soon, not when she would be around. Ginny sighed, hesitating at the door to Harry's flat. No, she couldn't have Draco, this she knew, but she couldn't do this to Harry either.
I'm giving up Harry Potter for Draco Malfoy, she realized, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. Could she do this, really? Could she really give up everything her girlhood fantasies had dreamt of, could she return the beautiful diamond ring, all for the slight, nearly impossible chance that Draco, a Slytherin, a Malfoy, could ever love her?
"I don't love Harry," Ginny said aloud wondrously, as if hearing the words would make everything easier. "I can't do this to Harry. It isn't right."
She swung open the door, calm on her face and determination in her heart.
"Harry, we need to talk."
The words came loud and sharp in the quiet of his flat, and he jerked up, greatly startled to see her standing coolly in his living room.
"Gin," Harry said, voice ringing with unhidden surprise. "What are you doing here?" Her calm expression wavered, and he hastened to add, "Not that I don't want to see you. I just. . .wasn't expecting you, is all."
"Harry," Ginny began, and then noticed that he was sitting amidst a suitcase, owl in hand. "Harry, why are you packed?"
He glanced around him. "Oh right." He winced. "Well, listen, I was just going to owl you. The ministry wants me to go away on some business, and I'm really tight on schedule, and—"
"But I need to talk to you," Ginny burst out.
A regretful gleam in his wide green eyes told her all she needed to know. "Oh Gin, listen," Harry apologized. "This is really a terrible time. I'd love to talk about whatever's on your mind, but this is urgent. Really urgent. You do understand?"
She sunk into his couch slowly. "Right, of course."
Harry smiled at her, brushing her cheek with his lips airily as he hefted the duffel onto his shoulder and strode towards the door. "You can see yourself out?" He asked softly, asking in his own way whether or not she would be okay.
"I'll be fine," she replied in an unaffected tone.
He grinned. "That's my girl."
And as the door closed loudly, she whispered to nobody in particular, "I can't be your girl, Harry."
~*~
Pansy –
I wonder if you remember the very first time our Fathers forced us together, at Hogwarts in our fourth year. I told you I would rather die than dance with you, and you retorted that I just might if I didn't. To tell the truth, I have never liked you. And now, I am in my late twenties, and I refuse to let anyone dictate what I do anymore. Not you, and not my parents.
You have to understand this, Parkinson. You and I have both changed greatly over the years. I am not the same boy I was at school, and you are not the same annoying blonde that followed me everywhere I went. Perhaps if we met later in life I wouldn't hate you as much, but the fact of the matter is that this is the environment we have been born into, and I don't love you. Hell, I don't even like you.
But I will give that you are not stupid, and surely you know this already; thus, you surely know why I'm writing. I'm writing because I want a divorce, Pansy. I can't pretend anymore, I will not pretend anymore. My entire life I have lived under my Father. Now, he's sick, and I want to move on. I can't be tied to a woman I will never love. Nor can I be tied to a man who has never truly seen me as his son.
You might want to know what has caused this change of heart, and the answer is nothing really. It's more the realization that I am nearing 30, and my entire life has been a lie. My wife, my son, my family. I can't rectify what has already passed, but I can prevent that from repeating in the future. Enclosed are the papers I had drawn up from the Ministry of Magic. All you need to do is sign them, and you're free. Sebastian can be discussed later.
- Draco Malfoy –
With a sigh, Draco set his quill down and rolled the parchment gently. "Persephone," he directed his beautiful white owl, "Find Pansy in Aruba."
She regarded him with wide eyes, hooting softly and shaking her head.
"This is not a request," Draco murmured gently, stroking her pristine wings.
Persephone continued to hoot, in protest perhaps.
He leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes with yet another heavy sigh and tossing the parchment carelessly onto his desk. "Oh sod this," Draco grumbled. "You and your stupid mood swings."
"Sod what, may I ask?"
He turned around at the speed of lightening, chair squeaking as it swiveled, to see Blaise outlined in the shadow of his door. "Christ, Zabini, you shouldn't creep up on people like that."
Blaise stepped into the room casually, eyeing the discarded papers all around the room. "Trying to write a letter, I see?"
"How'd you find me?" Draco ignored the question.
"Well," Blaise shrugged. "You weren't at home. Nobody was, in fact. So I figured you'd be at your office. You know, just a hunch."
Draco frowned.
"Does it scare you how well I know you?" Blaise quirked his lips into a sardonic smile.
"It scares me that I kissed Weasley," Draco muttered.
Blaise nearly choked. "What?"
"I don't know why," Draco said slowly, after a long stretch of silence. "But I did."
"I see." A pause. "Did you. . .enjoy it?"
"Oh hell no," Draco cried vehemently. "She's a Weasley, may I remind you. I don't. . .I don't know why I—"
"I do," Blaise interrupted with a small, triumphant grin. "You need a woman, Malfoy, and I know just the right remedy."
"Blaise—" Draco began warningly, the letter forgotten.
"Oh shut your harping. I'm your best mate and I know what's best."
~*~
Ginny stretched herself out on Harry's couch languidly, nestling her head into the comfortable throw pillows and closing her eyes. I wonder what Draco's doing right now. The thought popped into her head before she could stop herself, and with a loud groan she covered her face with a pillow, as if doing so could banish him from her mind.
"Ginny?" A knock sounded at the door.
"Go away," Ginny mumbled.
"Ginny, open up," the voice said again. "I just ran into Harry and I know you're in there."
She gave another groan, tossing the pillow down and moving to yank the door open. "Lav?"
A wide smile wove itself into her friend's face. "That's right," Lavender declared, throwing her arms around the surprised redhead. "I'm back!"
"How was the honeymoon?"
"Beautiful," Lavender sighed dreamily as she followed Ginny inside Harry's flat. "Absolutely perfect. Thanks for the gorgeous sendoff, by the way."
Ginny beamed. "Anything for my best girl, right?"
"And to talk about weddings," Lavender continued, eyes sparkling. "You're engaged? Since when did I miss this development?"
"Ohhh," Ginny groaned once more, burying her face in her hands. "Don't remind me."
"What?" Lavender cried. "You aren't terribly ecstatic that you're marrying the one and only Harry Potter?"
"Don't get me wrong," Ginny said, raising her head slowly. "Harry's a wonder. He's sweet, and kind, and handsome, and everything I've ever dreamt of and—"
"So what's the problem?"
"The problem," Ginny sighed, "Is that I'm not in love with him. I don't want to be with him, Lavender, surely not for the rest of my life."
Lavender frowned. "Does he love you?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't think so, actually. I think he just wants Evie to have a mother."
Crossing her legs, Lavender leaned back and eyed Ginny contemplatively. "This doesn't happen to have anything to do with a tall, nasty blond who's spent the past few years in Canada, does it?"
There came no answer from Ginny.
"I knew it!" Lavender shouted, jumping up. "He's back, isn't he? Draco Malfoy's back!"
"The bane of my existence," Ginny said in a muffled voice, "And yet I can't seem to live without him."
"So?" Lavender demanded. "Did you talk to him?"
"Of course I've talked to him," Ginny rolled her eyes. "I work in his mansion, for goodness sakes."
"Yeah?" Lavender bit her lower lip. "What'd you say? Oh I can imagine—" she swept her arm dramatically around the room "—'My dear Draco, I did forget to tell you, I slept with you 7 years ago and I'm the mother of yo—'"
"Lavender!" Ginny shrieked, laughing as she tackled the other woman to the ground.
"Relax, Gin," Lavender protested. "Nobody's going to hear."
When the giggles had subsided, Ginny sat back with a small, embarassed smile. "I know," she said softly. "It's just—it's just that you're the only one who knows, Lav. I don't know what people would think of me if they—if they knew."
"They wouldn't think any less of you," Lavender insisted. "Your father needed that money, Gin. It was for the best. They would understand."
"And I don't know why I feel for him so much," Ginny went on, eyes filling with tears. "It isn't as if I have any chance with him at all, and yet I want to be with him, and every second I spend with him makes me smile, and—"
"Shh," Lavender said, bringing her arms around Ginny. "It's okay. It will all be okay."
And they spent some time like that, Ginny sniffling in the embrace of her childhood friend, thankful for Lavender yet wishing to hell it was Draco comforting her.
~*~
"Zabini, I still don't think this was a good idea."
"You don't think anything I do is a good idea," Blaise retorted, glancing around the strip joint with a very pleased expression upon his face. "Lighten up, Malfoy."
Draco glared at his friend, who in return grinned impishly. "I don't need to lighten up," he snarled. "I just need a certain weasel out of my house."
"Maybe," Blaise said slowly, not meeting Draco's eyes. "The problem is that you really don't want her out of your house."
He could feel the blonde's penetrating silver gaze, and glanced at the gyrating dancers smiling down from the bar top. "What is that supposed to mean?" Draco demanded.
"I think," Blaise went on, "You just need a lay. Seven years is a long time, you know. A very long time."
"You don't need to tell me," Draco groaned.
"You're not," Blaise paused. "Interested in men now are you?" The incredulous stare was all he needed in reply. Hiding a chuckle, Blaise shrugged. "Come on, pal, tell me you can still appreciate women."
"I can," Draco said defensively. "Even though Pansy has definitely hindered that ability."
"So," Blaise said. "This was a good idea then."
Gray met blue.
"Unless," Blaise added. "It's not sexual frustration and you don't really need a lay. You just need her."
"Her?" Draco spat out.
"Didn't say anything," Blaise shrugged, holding up a galleon to the busty blond girl on her knees before him. She pressed herself into his lap, nuzzling his neck as she danced, and he winked at Draco. "Go get yourself a dance, Malfoy," Blaise grinned, pressing a galleon into Draco's hand. "And if you're lucky, a bit more than a dance."
"You aren't serious," Draco said with great dismay.
"If Weasley really isn't the reason why you're all bothered," was his nonchalant response. He turned his head slightly, so his face was hovering above the stripper's. "What's your name, love?"
She giggled, in a way that reminded Draco of Pansy. "Hannah," she murmured back as he pressed his lips to hers.
Draco turned away in disgust, shaking his head and striding towards the door. A flash of red caught his eye, however, and he turned thoughtfully, gaze trailing a leather-clad redhead making her way towards the V.I.P room. Like hell was he was upset over Weasley. Glancing down at the galleon Blaise had given him, it took only a moment's hesitation before he followed her nimbly into a secluded room rich with expensive furniture.
"Need a hand?" He said in a low voice as she set down a tray.
She jumped, eyes softening as she took in his slender build and smoldering eyes. "Depends," she replied in a seductive voice.
He took a step closer, and hid a smile as her lips parted. "On?"
"On who's offering," she answered coyly. "And. . .on what else he's offering."
Roughly grabbing her by the waist, Draco dipped his head to hers and ravaged her in a kiss that left her weak at the knees. He studied her for a moment, and then settled down on the couch and eyed her suggestively. "Well?"
She grinned. "I'm Janey," she whispered as she crawled atop him.
"I don't care," he replied shortly before covering her lips with his again.
Blaise was right, then. He didn't need Weasley, just a lay. He didn't need Weasley at all.
~*~
"So are you going to tell Harry?"
They were situated in Harry's quaint kitchen, Lavender absently stirring tea as Ginny rested her head against the table. "I want to."
"About the engagement only, or about Malfoy too?"
Ginny winced. "Lav, can you imagine what would happen if Ron found out about Draco?"
"Do you love Malfoy?" Lavender asked carefully.
Silence. "I don't know," Ginny finally said. "I don't know if I'd want to spend the rest of my life with him. But I know I want to be with him. I know he makes me feel. . .alive."
"Live is always good," Lavender agreed enthusiastically.
Ginny grumbled.
Laughing, Lavender continued to stir her tea. "You know, I just thought of exactly what would make you feel better right now."
"Really," Ginny said woodenly. "Because I can't think of a single thing."
"Remember how we were both utterly and completely obsessed with William Wexler back at Hogwarts?"
"Wicked Willie!" They chorused simultaneously before splitting into peals of laughter.
"I still have that record," Ginny giggled. "I listen to it now and then."
"And the poster we kept above the beds in the dormitory," Lavender added. "Remember how we used to look at him before we went to sleep?"
"Sweet dreams indeed," agreed Ginny.
"Well," Lavender said, eyes twinkling. "I've got tickets to. . .William Wexler Live!"
"No!" Ginny cried in disbelief.
"That's right," Lavender nodded. "With backstage tickets!"
They squealed like they were seventeen once again.
"Come on," Lavender urged, tossing her a scarf. "Let's go!"
~*~
Something was off.
Draco Malfoy had made out with plenty of beautiful witches in his lifetime, and he knew enough to know that something was most definitely not right. Frowning, he pulled away from Janey as if to catch his breath, and closed his eyes in frustration.
"Oh gods." She leaned back, completely oblivious, and eyed him with wondrous blue eyes. "Aren't I supposed to be the one making you dizzy?"
They were situated on the long leather sofa, Draco sprawled out lazily and her astride him. There were stains of lipstick all down his neck, and as she continued to stare at him, pupils dilated with lust, he realized that she was, really, a very attractive girl. Then why was he not turned on?
"I do have that effect on women," Draco shrugged, failing to sound enthusiastic.
She giggled. "Oh yes you do."
A strange pang of disappointment hit his chest for some reason. He hadn't been expecting her to giggle, much less agree. "Unh." What had he expected her to do? Disagree
"You must work out a lot," Janey continued, spreading her fingers under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. "Or do you have one of those spells?"
He had expected her to bite her lip. Ginny always bit her lip when he went on expounding his ego.
In startlement, almost, he glanced up at her, caught her eye and it hit him with the force of a tidal wave. Shit.
He pushed her off quickly, jumping to his feet. With an uncharacteristic yelp, she tumbled to the ground, a mass of red hair and skimpy clothing, one strap of her lacy black camisole hanging off her shoulder in a way that to anyone else would've been sexy. "What was that for?" She cried, trying hard not to look displeased as she moved back onto the couch.
"I want you—" He couldn't finish. I want you to be Ginny, he'd almost said.
Janey crossed her legs and leaned back, staring at him with sultry eyes and pouting her lips. "If you want me, then why don't you come over here, and we can finish what we started," she said suggestively.
"I don't think so."
"Why not?" She cooed, pretending it was all a game.
"Because you aren't Ginny," Draco said, more to himself than anyone else.
"I know I'm not Ginny," she rolled her eyes. "I'm Janey."
"And that," Draco said, an understanding expression coming over his face, "Is precisely the problem." He turned on his heel and strode to the door, feeling much clearer in mind than he had before Blaise had dragged him to this seedy joint.
"I still don't understand," Janey whined.
"Here," Draco stopped at the door, one hand already on the handle, and tossed his galleon at her. "This was…interesting. But thanks."
"What is wrong?" Janey demanded, sounding annoyed.
He looked at her with what could have been helplessness. "Your eyes aren't brown," He said, and rushed out the door.
~*~
"Ginny, I want you to meet William Wexler," Lavender gushed. "Willie, this is Virginia Weasley."
The concert had just ended, and Lavender and Ginny were standing hesitantly in William's backstage lounge, awaiting the singer's return.
As he stepped into view, she saw that he had not changed much from the days Ginny used to stare at his poster for hours on end. Average in height – slightly shorter than Draco, she thought involuntarily – and extremely well muscled, his large blue eyes were indeed as beautiful in person. "Hello, Virginia," he greeted her in that melodic voice.
"Hi," she replied, slightly less excited than she had expected.
"Willie and I met on my honeymoon," Lavender chirped. "He was staying at the same hotel."
"That's right," He agreed, smiling at her and causing numerous girls behind them to swoon.
"Willie!" One of the fans screamed, and he politely excused himself to sign her giant poster.
"Lav," Ginny hissed, pulling her friend aside. "You know William Wexler personally?"
"Oh," Lavender said, her grin wide and amused. "I was surprised enough to see him at our resort. But imagine my surprise when I found out that he's Dean's Quidditch buddy!"
"And you didn't tell me this?" Ginny's jaw dropped open.
"Well I did just get back," Lavender countered, eyes sparkling.
He appeared beside them once more. "Ah, that's taken care of. You know, I'm surprised that these girls still follow my music. It's been years."
"Years," Lavender echoed mirthfully.
William turned towards Ginny, trademark grin on the corners of his lips. "You know, I've heard quite a lot about you from Lavender here. Would you possibly be interested in joining me for a late night drink tonight?"
Ginny shot a wide-eyed glare at Lavender, who only grinned in return. "Lavender—"
"She'd love to," Lavender interjected, winking and nudging Ginny pointedly in the gut.
"Great," William said, smiling broadly.
"Right," Ginny said quickly. "So what time should I meet you?"
"Well," he began slowly. "I was thinking we could just leave now."
"And leave all your adoring fans?" Ginny laughed. "I think I'd have a mob after me."
"I can imagine," He agreed, lowering his voice and raking his gaze over her. "I imagine you always have quite a mob after you."
"That she does," a fourth voice said coolly, and they all turned to see Draco Malfoy striding towards them, black robes billowing out with ease. He looked entirely out of place, and completely antithetical to William, elegant where the latter was rugged, tall and slender to his bulging biceps, and pale to the singer's deep, bronzed tan. As he neared, Ginny saw a flickering of unexplainable emotion behind his impassive gray eyes, and knew immediately he was not as calm as he appeared.
"Hello," William said smugly. "Would you like an autograph?"
"No thank you," Draco returned with an equally condescending smirk. "Who are you again?"
"William Wexler," William answered, sounding flabbergasted.
"Right," Draco said in a voice that plainly expressed how little he cared, and stared at Ginny.
"If you don't know who I am," William said somewhat peevishly, "Then why are you at my concert?"
"Ginny, I need you," Draco said.
William's startled gaze roved from Ginny to Draco, and Lavender let out a gasp.
"I need you to come back to Malfoy Manor," Draco went on. "Sebastian's sick."
"You aren't going to go, are you?" William interjected before Ginny could respond. "I was really looking forward to our date."
Draco's eyes grew a shade darker at his words.
Ginny turned helplessly towards Lavender. "Lav—"
"I understand," Lavender whispered quickly.
"But Virginia—" William started, shooting an angry look at Draco. "Is this your boyfriend or something? Or your husband? What obligation do you have to him?"
"That's really none of your business," Draco said smoothly. Ginny opened her mouth to snap at him, but he clapped his cool, dry palm over it. "It's important, Ginny," He said in a low voice.
She stepped back, smiling apologetically at the singer. "Sorry, Willie," Ginny let out a small sigh, and met Draco's steely eyes. "I guess I'll…see you around."
And then Draco grasped her hand lightly, and they disapparated.
~*~
The moment they arrived at Malfoy Manor, he dropped her hand.
They stood silently in his parlor, neither sure of what to say and both keenly aware of the other's emotions.
"I didn't know William Wexler was still alive," Draco finally said.
"Draco," Ginny stared at him accusingly. "Sebastian isn't sick, is he."
"No." His response was curt and abrupt.
"So why am I here, Draco?" She asked, heart beating from the mere possibility of his answers.
He threw up his hands. "Why are any of us here, Ginny? I bet everyone has asked that at one time."
She glared at him. "Stop being such a wanker. You interrupted a perfectly good night I was having and you owe me an explanation."
"Oh right," Draco smirked. "With 'Willie'."
Her temper flared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," he seethed. "I'm just not some fan girl who swoons over your boyfriend, that's all."
She stared at him blankly. "He is not my boyfriend."
"I should have known," Draco said snidely. "He is 40. And as if a rock star would want to date you."
"He's 32," Ginny corrected. "And he asked me on a date, I'll have you know."
"Well, as your boss, I prohibit you from dating him," Draco said.
"What?" Ginny exclaimed.
"That's right," Draco said, glaring at her. "You'll make a bad impression on my son."
"Okay, that's it," Ginny shouted, eyes glowering with anger as she stormed over towards him. "I can date whoever I want, I'll have you know, and I would have had a perfectly nice time with William Wexler, and it is absolutely none of your sodding business who I'm with because obviously you don't want to—"
"If you want to be with William so much, maybe you should just go," He cut her off.
"Maybe I will," she replied defensively, tilting her chin.
"Do you want to?" He said before he could stop himself.
She crossed her arms. "I think anything is better than being around you, Draco Malfoy."
He studied her from under a fringe of long blond lashes. "Then why," he asked in an impossibly soft voice. "Did you come with me?"
The room was dead silent as he took in her glimmering brown eyes, her mouth a round 'o' of surprise from the unexpectedness of his question and slight moisture on her parted lips. "I don't know," she whispered nearly inaudibly. "Maybe I wanted to. Maybe I wanted…you."
And then it was as if something in the air exploded, and in a split second he was on her, hands drawing her close and lips and teeth all mashing together. He kissed her as if he would die the next day, as if he could not stand another inch of air between them, as if she was his sole purpose for living. And before she could even register what had happened, her own arms had found their place around his neck, pulling his head down and crushing their bodies together.
There was nothing tender about his kisses, not this time, not like before. They were hungry and demanding and almost illicit, and she couldn't seem to care about anything except the feeling, and oh how right it felt. He bit down on her lower lip and she moaned, weaving nerveless hands through his silky hair as he pushed her back against the wall.
She ran her hands down his neck, spreading her fingers over the sharp bone of shoulder and the lean muscle of his arms. One of his hands found solace at the small of her back while the other gently stroked at her stomach, gently until he was holding onto the zipper of her blouse.
Draco lifted his head away from hers then, breath heavy and labored, and stared at her with unfathomable silver eyes, full of question, full of need, full of emotions she had never imagined possible for a Malfoy. And she stared back, equally out of breath and out of mind, eyes focused on his thin lips before her.
"Tell me to stop," He demanded, hoarsely, giving a slight tug on her zipper.
She buried her face into his neck, nibbling at the tender skin in the juncture between chin and earlobe, and he let out an incoherent noise. Pressing her lips against his jaw, she trailed a line of kisses up until his ear. "No," she whispered.
And then they were lost to each other; and there were stars like the heavens themselves had fallen into Malfoy Manor.
~End of Chapter 9~
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