Disclaimer: I own nothing. So don't sue me.
A/N: YAY! More reviews! I love you all!
Anyway. On to the chapter...
She looked down at the fingers circling her wrist, and tightened her grip on his wand. He, in turn, tightened his grip on her wrist.
"Let go," he whispered in her ear, squeezing still tighter on her wrist. His thumb appeared to have hit a pressure point, and she dropped the wand with a small whimper of pain.
He released her wrist and picked up his wand, and then both were standing again, she rubbing her wrist and glaring daggers at him, he smirking and tucking his wand back up his sleeve.
"Shall we?" He asked, offering her his arm, gray eyes glimmering with amusement at her rising fury.
She folded her arms across her chest and remained where she was.
"This isn't getting my money back. All this is doing is giving you a chance to publicly humiliate me," she replied.
He laughed – Merlin she hated that sound – and took two steps towards her, so he was standing not three inches in front her.
Draco couldn't help but notice how she smelled like, well, he couldn't describe her scent. But it was an intoxicating combination of chamomile, lavender, and roses, and it sent his senses swirling. The urge to take her, willingly or not, came back, and an evil glint replaced that of amusement in his eyes.
He towered over her normally by about ten inches, and the five gained by her heels did little to diminish his imposing stature.
"I have something you want, true?" He inquired, quite enjoying himself.
"True," she replied with a pout of her glossed lips.
"You want it back, true?"
"True."
"You would do anything to get it back, true?"
"True," she conceded.
"Then I suggest you wipe that insolent pout from your face, and accompany me to dinner."
"But how, exactly, am I supposed to pay for dinner, if you have my money?"
"Have you forgotten who I am, Virginia?"
"It would be pretty hard to forget who you are, Malfoy. You're the one who's made my life miserable for the past five years. And you're the one who is ruining my holiday."
"Then why do you expect to pay for dinner?"
"Because I won't be indebted to you."
Again, he laughed, and she flinched involuntarily.
"You will not owe me anything for this dinner, Virginia. Consider it as a step to retrieving your belongings."
"I hardly believe that," she retorted, but started toward the elevator nonetheless. It would be best, she decided, to get this whole horrible occurrence over with as soon as possible.
He smiled a sly smile, and caught up to her with a few short strides. Once again, he offered his arm, and this time she accepted the gesture and wrapped her arm around his.
They reached the lifts quickly, and as soon as he pressed the button one set of doors opened up. He released her arm, and allowed her to enter the elevator first.
She couldn't help but notice, as she passed him, that he smelt rather like she imagined a rainforest would, tropical and sweet but deadly and mysterious at the same time. She had noticed it before, but it was more apparent than ever when he entered the lift after her, and the doors closed.
He pressed the button that would take them to the lobby, and when the doors opened he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her out of the lift. She flinched, slightly, at his touch, and looked up at him, a threat hidden in her warm brown eyes.
"Let go of me," Ginny hissed, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp without looking conspicuous.
"Remember our deal," Draco replied, in an amused murmur.
"We didn't have a deal. We didn't shake on it, nor did we sign anything, therefore there is no deal."
"Hush. And stop squirming. You're beginning to attract attention," he returned, gripping her waist tighter, so that his fingers just barely dug into the soft flesh of her abdomen.
She obediently stopped wriggling, as his fingers bit into her flesh, and dropped her head in submission. Gods how she hated him! She would get her revenge, Ginny vowed, as Draco lead her out of the hotel and into the bustling street beyond.
He hailed a taxi, and after both had climbed into the black vehicle, Draco asked her where their dinner reservations were for.
"Le Chateau Blanche," she answered, loud enough for the driver to hear.
She watched as the driver nodded his head, and pulled away from the curb in front of the hotel. They reached the restaurant in a matter of moments, the white-brick building being only two blocks from their hotel.
Draco helped her from the cab, and as soon as she was out he wrapped his arm around her waist once more. He smiled wickedly as she didn't bother to fight it, and guided her away from the street and into the cool interior of the restaurant.
Judging by the gasp that parted her lips, Draco supposed she was quite taken with the décor of the restaurant.
"Have you never been here before?" He inquired, a knowing smirk curling his lips.
"Do you really need to ask that?" She returned, as they approached the small alcove in which the host was standing.
Ginny noted with a smirk of her own that the eyes of the young man who was now leading them to their table had traveled appraisingly and hungrily over her body when she had introduced herself and explained the situation.
They were led to a table in a semi-secluded alcove at the back of the dining room. Apparently, judging by the way they were the only people in that corner of the room, the host had figured that the two teenagers were a couple. Ginny had noted this, and the fact that the young man had seemed quite disappointed to leave them. Or, more accurately, her.
They opened their menus in silence, she wanting desperately to be back in her hotel room, he with a smirk on his face, looking as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She thought at first of just ordering the first thing she saw on the menu, but decided against it. Malfoy was paying. She could eat anything she wanted, and wouldn't have to worry about picking up the bill.
A wicked smile crossed her features, and Ginny perused the menu slowly, finding the most expensive French delicacies, and preparing to order.
Draco watched as the smile played on her lips, and he had an idea of what she was planning. He was a Malfoy, filthy rich, and had already told her that she wouldn't owe him anything for this meal. He was about to make a snide comment about her family, just to get her angry, when the waiter showed up and offered a better alternative.
Draco looked up at the youth who appeared to be no older than Draco himself, and spoke before the other could open his mouth.
"Avez-vous des recommandations pour un repas romantique pour deux?" Draco inquired in perfect French, looking condescendingly up at the waiter.
The server looked from Draco, who was being his usual arrogant self, to Ginny, who looked quite appalled at what Draco had just asked. Of course, being at work, he wasn't allowed to say anything about the glare she directed at the blonde boy, nor the satisfied smirk that the blonde boy returned.
"Bien, nous avons une soirée spéciale qui est tout à fait populaire parmi la plupart des couples qui fréquentent notre restaurant, si vous voudriez cela. C'est un chef spécial, un repas que le chef prépare particulièrement pour ceux le mangeant. Un de mes favoris personnels, réellement."
"Le spécial est très bien. Et je voudrais une bouteille du Bordeaux de Girolate, svp."
"Oui monsieur."
The server left, taking the menus with him, and Ginny kicked Draco under the table.
"You self-absorbed ass!" She hissed, kicking him again. Ooh, how she hated him! She could see more clearly than ever why her brother and Harry so wanted to kill the young heir to the Malfoy estate.
"Virginia, darling, what /is/ the problem?" Draco inquired, feigning ignorance.
"You know full well what the problem is, Malfoy. You!"
Oh, he was enjoying himself, she could see it in the way he smirked at her comment. She would have kicked him again, but her toes were smarting, and she really didn't feel like being in pain on top of everything else.
She leant back in her seat, re-crossing her legs under the table, and folded her arms across her chest. The petulant pout was back on her lips, and he smiled wickedly.
"Are you having fun?" She asked, her tone quite unlike any he had heard her use so far. She sounded as though she were feeling sorry for herself.
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand the question, Virginia," Draco replied, frowning slightly.
"I asked if you're having fun."
"I suppose..."
"So you have fun taking advantage of a young girl, all on her own, helpless and quite unable to defend herself? You have fun forcing her into things with threats and such? You enjoy the power it gives you to watch me beg you for my things?" She hissed, her eyes glittering with disgust.
"May I point a few things out, my dear?"
"Such as?"
"You chose to leave your room this morning. I did not force you to leave."
She snorted. "Yeah, and I was going to stay there and let myself be raped. Right."
He laughed again, and she shuddered.
"Secondly, darling, it was you who failed to take your things with you when you fled. I merely took them for safekeeping."
"I so believe that."
"And, I gave you the choice not to accompany me tonight. But you are so fond of material possessions that you chose to accompany me."
"Yes, after you informed me that you wouldn't return my things if I didn't."
"And that proves my point, my dear."
She glowered at him, but said nothing more. He was right, much as she hated to admit it.
A short time later, their server returned without the Bordeaux Draco had ordered, and the first course of their meal. Ginny learned, as the waiter described their meal, that this would be the first course in six. He also explained that, due to the circumstances of the meal, all drinks would come with the course – the reason he hadn't brought along the Bordeaux.
Draco seemed quite displeased with this, and Ginny couldn't help but feel somehow triumphant. The Prince of Slytherin hadn't gotten his way, for once.
He saw the look on her face, and vowed to get some type of revenge for it later; it wasn't a wise move on her part, to be happy at his displeasure.
The waiter left, and the Slytherin and the Gryffindor started on their soup, she wanting to dump the hot contents of her bowl over Draco's head, he wanting, not for the first time since they had reached the restaurant, to slap her silly.
"Prick," she said suddenly, in between bites of soup.
He glared, and she smirked. Perhaps she could play a little game...
She had, after all, been able to seduce more than one Slytherin. Why should Draco be any different?
A/N: First conversation between Draco and the waiter goes as follows: (this one's sort of a rough translation...)
"Do you have recommendations for a romantic meal for two?"
"Well, we have one evening special which is completely popular among the majority of the couples which attend our restaurant, if you would like that. It is a chef special, a meal which the chef particularly prepares for those eating it. One of my personal favorites, really."
"The special is good. And I would like a bottle of the Girolate Bordeaux, please."
"Yes sir."
A/N: YAY! More reviews! I love you all!
Anyway. On to the chapter...
She looked down at the fingers circling her wrist, and tightened her grip on his wand. He, in turn, tightened his grip on her wrist.
"Let go," he whispered in her ear, squeezing still tighter on her wrist. His thumb appeared to have hit a pressure point, and she dropped the wand with a small whimper of pain.
He released her wrist and picked up his wand, and then both were standing again, she rubbing her wrist and glaring daggers at him, he smirking and tucking his wand back up his sleeve.
"Shall we?" He asked, offering her his arm, gray eyes glimmering with amusement at her rising fury.
She folded her arms across her chest and remained where she was.
"This isn't getting my money back. All this is doing is giving you a chance to publicly humiliate me," she replied.
He laughed – Merlin she hated that sound – and took two steps towards her, so he was standing not three inches in front her.
Draco couldn't help but notice how she smelled like, well, he couldn't describe her scent. But it was an intoxicating combination of chamomile, lavender, and roses, and it sent his senses swirling. The urge to take her, willingly or not, came back, and an evil glint replaced that of amusement in his eyes.
He towered over her normally by about ten inches, and the five gained by her heels did little to diminish his imposing stature.
"I have something you want, true?" He inquired, quite enjoying himself.
"True," she replied with a pout of her glossed lips.
"You want it back, true?"
"True."
"You would do anything to get it back, true?"
"True," she conceded.
"Then I suggest you wipe that insolent pout from your face, and accompany me to dinner."
"But how, exactly, am I supposed to pay for dinner, if you have my money?"
"Have you forgotten who I am, Virginia?"
"It would be pretty hard to forget who you are, Malfoy. You're the one who's made my life miserable for the past five years. And you're the one who is ruining my holiday."
"Then why do you expect to pay for dinner?"
"Because I won't be indebted to you."
Again, he laughed, and she flinched involuntarily.
"You will not owe me anything for this dinner, Virginia. Consider it as a step to retrieving your belongings."
"I hardly believe that," she retorted, but started toward the elevator nonetheless. It would be best, she decided, to get this whole horrible occurrence over with as soon as possible.
He smiled a sly smile, and caught up to her with a few short strides. Once again, he offered his arm, and this time she accepted the gesture and wrapped her arm around his.
They reached the lifts quickly, and as soon as he pressed the button one set of doors opened up. He released her arm, and allowed her to enter the elevator first.
She couldn't help but notice, as she passed him, that he smelt rather like she imagined a rainforest would, tropical and sweet but deadly and mysterious at the same time. She had noticed it before, but it was more apparent than ever when he entered the lift after her, and the doors closed.
He pressed the button that would take them to the lobby, and when the doors opened he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her out of the lift. She flinched, slightly, at his touch, and looked up at him, a threat hidden in her warm brown eyes.
"Let go of me," Ginny hissed, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp without looking conspicuous.
"Remember our deal," Draco replied, in an amused murmur.
"We didn't have a deal. We didn't shake on it, nor did we sign anything, therefore there is no deal."
"Hush. And stop squirming. You're beginning to attract attention," he returned, gripping her waist tighter, so that his fingers just barely dug into the soft flesh of her abdomen.
She obediently stopped wriggling, as his fingers bit into her flesh, and dropped her head in submission. Gods how she hated him! She would get her revenge, Ginny vowed, as Draco lead her out of the hotel and into the bustling street beyond.
He hailed a taxi, and after both had climbed into the black vehicle, Draco asked her where their dinner reservations were for.
"Le Chateau Blanche," she answered, loud enough for the driver to hear.
She watched as the driver nodded his head, and pulled away from the curb in front of the hotel. They reached the restaurant in a matter of moments, the white-brick building being only two blocks from their hotel.
Draco helped her from the cab, and as soon as she was out he wrapped his arm around her waist once more. He smiled wickedly as she didn't bother to fight it, and guided her away from the street and into the cool interior of the restaurant.
Judging by the gasp that parted her lips, Draco supposed she was quite taken with the décor of the restaurant.
"Have you never been here before?" He inquired, a knowing smirk curling his lips.
"Do you really need to ask that?" She returned, as they approached the small alcove in which the host was standing.
Ginny noted with a smirk of her own that the eyes of the young man who was now leading them to their table had traveled appraisingly and hungrily over her body when she had introduced herself and explained the situation.
They were led to a table in a semi-secluded alcove at the back of the dining room. Apparently, judging by the way they were the only people in that corner of the room, the host had figured that the two teenagers were a couple. Ginny had noted this, and the fact that the young man had seemed quite disappointed to leave them. Or, more accurately, her.
They opened their menus in silence, she wanting desperately to be back in her hotel room, he with a smirk on his face, looking as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She thought at first of just ordering the first thing she saw on the menu, but decided against it. Malfoy was paying. She could eat anything she wanted, and wouldn't have to worry about picking up the bill.
A wicked smile crossed her features, and Ginny perused the menu slowly, finding the most expensive French delicacies, and preparing to order.
Draco watched as the smile played on her lips, and he had an idea of what she was planning. He was a Malfoy, filthy rich, and had already told her that she wouldn't owe him anything for this meal. He was about to make a snide comment about her family, just to get her angry, when the waiter showed up and offered a better alternative.
Draco looked up at the youth who appeared to be no older than Draco himself, and spoke before the other could open his mouth.
"Avez-vous des recommandations pour un repas romantique pour deux?" Draco inquired in perfect French, looking condescendingly up at the waiter.
The server looked from Draco, who was being his usual arrogant self, to Ginny, who looked quite appalled at what Draco had just asked. Of course, being at work, he wasn't allowed to say anything about the glare she directed at the blonde boy, nor the satisfied smirk that the blonde boy returned.
"Bien, nous avons une soirée spéciale qui est tout à fait populaire parmi la plupart des couples qui fréquentent notre restaurant, si vous voudriez cela. C'est un chef spécial, un repas que le chef prépare particulièrement pour ceux le mangeant. Un de mes favoris personnels, réellement."
"Le spécial est très bien. Et je voudrais une bouteille du Bordeaux de Girolate, svp."
"Oui monsieur."
The server left, taking the menus with him, and Ginny kicked Draco under the table.
"You self-absorbed ass!" She hissed, kicking him again. Ooh, how she hated him! She could see more clearly than ever why her brother and Harry so wanted to kill the young heir to the Malfoy estate.
"Virginia, darling, what /is/ the problem?" Draco inquired, feigning ignorance.
"You know full well what the problem is, Malfoy. You!"
Oh, he was enjoying himself, she could see it in the way he smirked at her comment. She would have kicked him again, but her toes were smarting, and she really didn't feel like being in pain on top of everything else.
She leant back in her seat, re-crossing her legs under the table, and folded her arms across her chest. The petulant pout was back on her lips, and he smiled wickedly.
"Are you having fun?" She asked, her tone quite unlike any he had heard her use so far. She sounded as though she were feeling sorry for herself.
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand the question, Virginia," Draco replied, frowning slightly.
"I asked if you're having fun."
"I suppose..."
"So you have fun taking advantage of a young girl, all on her own, helpless and quite unable to defend herself? You have fun forcing her into things with threats and such? You enjoy the power it gives you to watch me beg you for my things?" She hissed, her eyes glittering with disgust.
"May I point a few things out, my dear?"
"Such as?"
"You chose to leave your room this morning. I did not force you to leave."
She snorted. "Yeah, and I was going to stay there and let myself be raped. Right."
He laughed again, and she shuddered.
"Secondly, darling, it was you who failed to take your things with you when you fled. I merely took them for safekeeping."
"I so believe that."
"And, I gave you the choice not to accompany me tonight. But you are so fond of material possessions that you chose to accompany me."
"Yes, after you informed me that you wouldn't return my things if I didn't."
"And that proves my point, my dear."
She glowered at him, but said nothing more. He was right, much as she hated to admit it.
A short time later, their server returned without the Bordeaux Draco had ordered, and the first course of their meal. Ginny learned, as the waiter described their meal, that this would be the first course in six. He also explained that, due to the circumstances of the meal, all drinks would come with the course – the reason he hadn't brought along the Bordeaux.
Draco seemed quite displeased with this, and Ginny couldn't help but feel somehow triumphant. The Prince of Slytherin hadn't gotten his way, for once.
He saw the look on her face, and vowed to get some type of revenge for it later; it wasn't a wise move on her part, to be happy at his displeasure.
The waiter left, and the Slytherin and the Gryffindor started on their soup, she wanting to dump the hot contents of her bowl over Draco's head, he wanting, not for the first time since they had reached the restaurant, to slap her silly.
"Prick," she said suddenly, in between bites of soup.
He glared, and she smirked. Perhaps she could play a little game...
She had, after all, been able to seduce more than one Slytherin. Why should Draco be any different?
A/N: First conversation between Draco and the waiter goes as follows: (this one's sort of a rough translation...)
"Do you have recommendations for a romantic meal for two?"
"Well, we have one evening special which is completely popular among the majority of the couples which attend our restaurant, if you would like that. It is a chef special, a meal which the chef particularly prepares for those eating it. One of my personal favorites, really."
"The special is good. And I would like a bottle of the Girolate Bordeaux, please."
"Yes sir."