Invalid Intentions

"Malfoy, get off of me!" Ginny exclaimed, her breath growing heavy as she struggled to breathe. As she had fallen into the darkness, she hit the floor with a thump in the back of the head, and Draco had crawled on top of her in the tiny space that they had.

"Shut the hell up, Weasley - my father thinks someone is here!" he awkwardly position his head on her chest, one eardrum hearing her heartbeat through her sweater and the other eardrum hearing any noises his father made from the other room. Ginny squirmed underneath him, feeling his wet, cold body against hers, angled in a very uncomfortable height. She was pretty sure it was his hair that was tickling her lips. When there was only silence to occupy the manor, he brushed himself off of her, giving her a look of repulsion.

"Hey," Ginny interrupted before he could say anything. "You climbed onto me!"

"And you came into my manor," Draco reminded her coldly. She could not see his expression on his face; she wasn't even sure he was there anymore.

"Look! It was a mistake," Ginny pleaded desperately, ringlets of red falling over her face and brushing against her nose. She impatiently pushed them away, a lump in her throat.

Oh my God, don't cry in front of a Malfoy, Ginny! Not now! she told herself, trying to gulp down the burning sensation in her neck. "Can you just get me home? And get me another shoe?"

***

"Alright, ready, Weasley?" Draco asked her bitterly, with a flash of hesitance in his eyes. He pulled his bathrobe more tightly against himself.

She nodded.

"Good. Don't ever tell anyone I helped you," he told her firmly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I won't." Her feet heated by the flames that were at her sides, she raised her head high, kept her elbows tucked in as usual, and sprinkled the floo powder over her head.

"The Burrow!" she cried aloud. She expected the sudden rush of adrenaline as she transported herself into her home once more. She expected the flames twisting itself around her body in several waves until she dissolved from his fireplace. She expected all of this and much more.

And yet, nothing happened.

"Weasley, do it properly! And quick. We don't know when my father's getting back!" Draco complained.

"I did do it properly!" she insisted, but tried again. Nothing happened.

"Oh God, don't tell me the Floo network's failing now! Not now!" Draco groaned. "Get out of the fire, Weasley."

"What're you going to do?" She cautiously withdrew from the fireplace, stepping into the warmth of the carpet.

"Don't you know what this MEANS, Weasley? You're stuck!"

"Stuck?" she repeated blankly. "But that's not possible - where will I go?"

"It's obvious," Draco said stiffly. "My owl is in possession of my father. Unless I give him a valid reason, you can't contact your family. You can't Apparate until you've past the test. And hell if I am going to go through trouble to get a portkey."

"What - are - you - saying?" Ginny asking, grinding her teeth against each other.

"I am saying," he said in a tone of finality and unease, "That you will have to spend the night - here."

***

Lucius Malfoy peered in amusement inside the contents of the duffel bag. A snore made him jump lightly. He turned, and saw it was only Narcissa, turning over in her sleep, mumbling to herself. Lucius looked back, rummaging through the bag with excitement - which quickly turned into shock - which quickly turned into - realization as he picked up a flower-imprinted toothbrush, along with a silky nightdress and undergarments.

"Oh damn," he cursed in both disbelief and outrage. "My son's gay."

***

LMAO. I had to post that! I feel so - invigorated! I love this fic! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!