Disclaimer: I own nothing. So don't sue me.
She flopped onto her bed, laughing merrily at the look of surprise that had crossed his face at her last remark.
Wiping away the tears of laughter that threatened to pour down her cheeks, Ginny examined the bottle of vodka he had purchased for her. Smirnoff. Not recognizing the name, she opened the bottle and took a tentative sip, letting the liquor slide like fire down her throat.
Shrugging her shoulder slightly, she took another sip, quite enjoying the beverage.
Draco dropped wearily into one of the chairs in his room, and opened the bottle of brandy with a flourish. Unlike the redhead down the hall, he poured the amber liquid into a glass before drinking, having been drilled in etiquette since birth.
He too, however, took a tentative first sip, letting the beverage sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. It didn't take long, after the first sip, for him to finish the glass and pour another. He downed that one quickly as well, and it was only after he had ingested four of the small hotel glasses half full that he began to consider the task ahead.
Ginny had swallowed rather a lot of the alcohol, and her mind was feeling pleasantly blank, before she started her musings. Draco hadn't hurt her this evening, she figured, and that was enough cause for her to be wary of the older boy. He had actually let her leave his room; if he'd been planning something, he would have simply used a locking charm to keep her inside.
She hadn't been forced to do anything, other than accompany him to dinner, and that hadn't been too bad. He hadn't embarrassed her in public, nor had he coerced her into doing anything she really didn't want to do. He had been polite, not counting the few times when his ire rose, and he hadn't propositioned her, except for when they were back in his room.
"He's up to something," she murmured, replacing the cap on the now half- empty bottle of vodka.
He pondered what, exactly, was wrong with the woman. She had, not two and a half hours ago, been angry enough to kill him, had been terrified of him that afternoon, and then had nearly let him in her pants when she got to his room.
She hadn't done anything to publicly humiliate him, nor had she attempted any sort of escape when they had been together. Other than when he 'dropped' his wand that evening, she hadn't tried to steal anything of his with which to bargain for her things, and she had seemed to quite enjoy exchanging insults with him.
"She's up to something," he murmured, leaning back in his chair.
With that revelation, Ginny's intoxicated mind promptly began to tell her that she'd thought enough for one night, and she settled down in bed. It was only as she was drifting off to sleep that she realized she was supposed to owl her parents tomorrow and tell them how her first day in Paris had been.
"Shit," she mumbled, rolling over in bed and turning on the lamp. "I can't very well tell them that he's here, or they'd bring me straight home. Either that, or they'd send someone to kill the git for stealing my stuff."
It was then that it occurred to her that she didn't particularly want to see Draco dead.
"Nooooooo..." she whined, her voice heavy with sleep, "I can't be falling for Malfoy!"
He sighed, having finished his sixth glass of brandy, and replaced the cap on the bottle. Placing the empty glass beside the bottle, Draco rose from his chair, stretching. He wandered into the bathroom, and noticed that it still smelled faintly of her perfume. Inhaling the intoxicating scent deeply, he opened his shower kit, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and left the bathroom. Pulling off his shirt, shoes, socks and trousers, Draco climbed into bed in his boxer shorts, and turned off the light.
He was just drifting off, the brandy speeding up the sleep process, when he recalled that she would need clean clothes the next day. Smiling wickedly through the dark, he pictured her standing in the hallway outside his room, begging for clothes.
Sinister smile still in place, he fell asleep, quite eager to see the morning arrive.
She woke to sunlight pouring through the open curtains of her hotel room, and opened her eyes blearily. Momentarily disoriented, as one generally is when waking up in a hotel room, she rubbed her eyes and looked around, trying to get her bearings. Sleep laden gaze drifting towards the half- empty bottle of vodka, the previous day's events came rushing back.
"And I was so hoping that was all a dream," she groaned, rubbing her eyes again. Stifling a yawn, Ginny crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
It was only after she had taken a cold shower to wake up that she realized she didn't have any clothes. Wrapping the terry cloth bathrobe around her still-damp body, Ginny left the bathroom with a strangled shriek of rage.
Auburn tresses dripping steadily into the cloth of the robe, Ginny left her room in hopes of obtaining clothing from the wretched blonde boy who was currently in possession of her things.
Draco was awakened by a pounding on the door of his hotel room. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and landed quite soundly on his rear, with a loud thump and a string of inventive profanities. He stood, brushing a stray lock of platinum blonde from his eyes, and dragged on a pair of trousers, not particularly wanting to be seen in his boxers.
Wandering over to the door, he pulled it open to reveal a furious-looking Virginia Weasley.
"Good morning, Virginia," he drawled, mercury gaze drifting over her robed form. She was dripping wet; he gathered she had just gotten out of the shower.
As his gaze traveled over her apparel, hers wandered over his chest – which was pleasantly devoid of clothing. Gulping slightly at the sight of his half-naked body, Ginny tore her gaze from his really quite attractive muscles to his eyes, which were glimmering with amusement.
"G-good morning," she stumbled, gulping again.
"Please, come in," he invited, standing back from the door to let her in.
"T-thank you," she muttered, stepping past him and into the hotel room.
Draco watched with a wicked smile as she dropped onto the edge of his unmade bed, and stared at her duffel bag, which sat untouched on the desk.
"Is there something I can help you with, Virginia?" He asked after a moment, leaning against the wall.
"I need clothes," she stated, looking over at him, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes.
"You need clothes, do you?"
"Yes."
"What if I don't feel like giving you any clothes, Virginia?"
"Damn it, Draco!"
"Language, my dear."
Ginny sighed, exasperated.
"Please?"
"Please what, darling?"
"Please can I have my clothes?"
"Give me one good reason why I should give you your clothes."
"Because I certainly can't go around wearing nothing, now can I?"
"You have clothes in your room, don't you? The ones you were wearing yesterday?"
"DRACO! You can't honestly believe that I would wear a set of clothes two days in a row!"
He smirked, pushing himself from the wall, and sauntered to the desk. Removing the spell, he started to sift through the contents of the duffel before throwing a handful of clothing at the pouting redhead seated on his bed.
She caught the ball of fabric before it hit her head, and sorted through the garments, laying each one on his bed as she examined it.
"You don't think I'm going to wear this, do you?" Ginny asked after a moment, glaring at him.
He cast a glance back at the clothing laid out on the bed, a cruel smirk crawling over his lips as he did so. Replacing the spell over the desk, he strolled over to where she sat, pouting, and lifted her chin.
"You either wear it, or you wear what you've already got," he answered.
"But..."
"Ah, ah, ah, Virginia, no whining."
Pouting still, she grabbed her clothes and stood, wrenching her chin out of his grasp as she did so.
"I need some money, too."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going shopping."
"You went shopping yesterday."
"Only for a little while. Besides, that shop had a lot of things that I wanted, but I couldn't buy them 'cause I didn't have enough money in my purse."
Draco sighed. Gorgeous she may have been, but she really was a confusing wench.
"Why do you need to go shopping?"
"Because I need more clothes."
He sighed again. What was it with women and clothes?
"Just... stay here. I'm going to have a shower."
"But..."
"I'll take you shopping afterwards."
"But..."
"And you might want to get dressed."
"But I don't want you to take me shopping!"
"Why?" He raised a brow, surprised.
"Because."
"Because why, Virginia?"
"Just because."
Sighing yet again in exasperation, Draco pulled out his wand, placed a locking charm on the door of the hotel room, and walked to the bathroom. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw she was still standing in the same spot, pouting.
Shaking his head, he closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. Soon, she heard the water running, and Ginny groaned in frustration. She cast another appraising glance over the lump of clothes in her hands, and sighed deeply.
"Stupid bugger," she muttered, dropping her robe and pulling on her clothes.
Surveying herself in the mirror, Ginny grumbled in distaste; Draco really had no fashion sense. Or, rather, he had no idea about how she liked to dress; what she liked to wear with what. In her mind, she looked like a hooker. No doubt Draco would appreciate her uniform.
She heard, faintly the sound of the water cease, and dropped once more onto the edge of the bed, glaring at her reflection.
Her back was to him, when he left the bathroom, but she saw him in the mirror. He smirked, seeing her apparel, and strode over to her, a towel wrapped around his waist. He stood in front of her, his eyes traveling over her body, and nodded his approval.
Her gaze locked with is, and she fingered one of the pleats in her skirt.
"You can't expect me to go out like this."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because I look like a fucking hooker."
"Language, darling. And you look smashing; no need to worry."
"So in your esteemed opinion, I don't look like I just stepped off the cover of some porn mag?"
"Of course not. What gave you the idea that you look like you've just stepped out of a magazine?"
"The fact that this skirt is about four inches too short."
She stood, so he could see the way the skirt hung just barely over her rear, and tapped her foot in irritation.
"My dear, if you didn't intend to wear the garment, why did you bring it?"
"Because, you moron, I generally wear this skirt over a pair of jeans or something. It's called style."
Draco shrugged, unperturbed. She glared, usual petulant pout firmly in place on her lips.
"Do you have any other problems with your apparel, or can I get dressed?" He inquired, raising a brow.
She noticed for the first time that he was wearing nothing more than a towel, and felt a blush creep steadily up her cheeks.
"Go get dressed. I'll complain more later."
Smirking, Draco left her and returned to the bathroom, after grabbing a pile of clothes from his suitcase. She heard the bathroom door lock shut, and examined herself in the mirror once again. The skirt, if it could be called that, barely reached the tops of her thighs. The red plaid was accentuated by a white dress shirt that was entirely too tight, in Ginny's eyes, and a pair of white socks that reached over her knees.
"I look like a fucking naughty school girl," Ginny muttered, glaring at her reflection in distaste.
Turning away, she spotted a pair of shoes lying on the ground; Draco had dropped them earlier, rather than throw them at her. Bending down, she grabbed them, and caught her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. She had a clear view of her black knickers.
"Bugger. Better remember not to bend down at all today," she remarked, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on her shoes.
The bathroom door opened, and Draco stepped out, looking rather like he had last night, dressed all in black. His hair was slicked back, and Ginny thought for a moment, recalling how his hair had looked earlier.
"You know, your hair looks better when it's not all slicked back like that," she commented, rising from her seat on his bed.
"And your point is?"
"I was just making an observation, love. Now, can we please go? 'Cause in case you haven't noticed, I kind of have to make myself look a little more presentable," Ginny retorted, fingering her now dry hair.
Draco sighed, and removed the locking spell from his door. Grinning, Ginny grabbed the red beret that completed her ensemble, placed it on her head, and left the room, Draco following closely.
A/N: Sorry this chapter is kinda long, but I couldn't really find somewhere to cut it off. Here will have to do.
My thanks to all of my reviewers, whom I love.
And, just to warn all of you, updates may be a little slower in coming, 'cause school is starting back up again on Monday, and I have classes and such, which generally means homework. Which means I don't have as much time to spend writing fanfics. *sniffle*
She flopped onto her bed, laughing merrily at the look of surprise that had crossed his face at her last remark.
Wiping away the tears of laughter that threatened to pour down her cheeks, Ginny examined the bottle of vodka he had purchased for her. Smirnoff. Not recognizing the name, she opened the bottle and took a tentative sip, letting the liquor slide like fire down her throat.
Shrugging her shoulder slightly, she took another sip, quite enjoying the beverage.
Draco dropped wearily into one of the chairs in his room, and opened the bottle of brandy with a flourish. Unlike the redhead down the hall, he poured the amber liquid into a glass before drinking, having been drilled in etiquette since birth.
He too, however, took a tentative first sip, letting the beverage sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. It didn't take long, after the first sip, for him to finish the glass and pour another. He downed that one quickly as well, and it was only after he had ingested four of the small hotel glasses half full that he began to consider the task ahead.
Ginny had swallowed rather a lot of the alcohol, and her mind was feeling pleasantly blank, before she started her musings. Draco hadn't hurt her this evening, she figured, and that was enough cause for her to be wary of the older boy. He had actually let her leave his room; if he'd been planning something, he would have simply used a locking charm to keep her inside.
She hadn't been forced to do anything, other than accompany him to dinner, and that hadn't been too bad. He hadn't embarrassed her in public, nor had he coerced her into doing anything she really didn't want to do. He had been polite, not counting the few times when his ire rose, and he hadn't propositioned her, except for when they were back in his room.
"He's up to something," she murmured, replacing the cap on the now half- empty bottle of vodka.
He pondered what, exactly, was wrong with the woman. She had, not two and a half hours ago, been angry enough to kill him, had been terrified of him that afternoon, and then had nearly let him in her pants when she got to his room.
She hadn't done anything to publicly humiliate him, nor had she attempted any sort of escape when they had been together. Other than when he 'dropped' his wand that evening, she hadn't tried to steal anything of his with which to bargain for her things, and she had seemed to quite enjoy exchanging insults with him.
"She's up to something," he murmured, leaning back in his chair.
With that revelation, Ginny's intoxicated mind promptly began to tell her that she'd thought enough for one night, and she settled down in bed. It was only as she was drifting off to sleep that she realized she was supposed to owl her parents tomorrow and tell them how her first day in Paris had been.
"Shit," she mumbled, rolling over in bed and turning on the lamp. "I can't very well tell them that he's here, or they'd bring me straight home. Either that, or they'd send someone to kill the git for stealing my stuff."
It was then that it occurred to her that she didn't particularly want to see Draco dead.
"Nooooooo..." she whined, her voice heavy with sleep, "I can't be falling for Malfoy!"
He sighed, having finished his sixth glass of brandy, and replaced the cap on the bottle. Placing the empty glass beside the bottle, Draco rose from his chair, stretching. He wandered into the bathroom, and noticed that it still smelled faintly of her perfume. Inhaling the intoxicating scent deeply, he opened his shower kit, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and left the bathroom. Pulling off his shirt, shoes, socks and trousers, Draco climbed into bed in his boxer shorts, and turned off the light.
He was just drifting off, the brandy speeding up the sleep process, when he recalled that she would need clean clothes the next day. Smiling wickedly through the dark, he pictured her standing in the hallway outside his room, begging for clothes.
Sinister smile still in place, he fell asleep, quite eager to see the morning arrive.
She woke to sunlight pouring through the open curtains of her hotel room, and opened her eyes blearily. Momentarily disoriented, as one generally is when waking up in a hotel room, she rubbed her eyes and looked around, trying to get her bearings. Sleep laden gaze drifting towards the half- empty bottle of vodka, the previous day's events came rushing back.
"And I was so hoping that was all a dream," she groaned, rubbing her eyes again. Stifling a yawn, Ginny crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
It was only after she had taken a cold shower to wake up that she realized she didn't have any clothes. Wrapping the terry cloth bathrobe around her still-damp body, Ginny left the bathroom with a strangled shriek of rage.
Auburn tresses dripping steadily into the cloth of the robe, Ginny left her room in hopes of obtaining clothing from the wretched blonde boy who was currently in possession of her things.
Draco was awakened by a pounding on the door of his hotel room. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and landed quite soundly on his rear, with a loud thump and a string of inventive profanities. He stood, brushing a stray lock of platinum blonde from his eyes, and dragged on a pair of trousers, not particularly wanting to be seen in his boxers.
Wandering over to the door, he pulled it open to reveal a furious-looking Virginia Weasley.
"Good morning, Virginia," he drawled, mercury gaze drifting over her robed form. She was dripping wet; he gathered she had just gotten out of the shower.
As his gaze traveled over her apparel, hers wandered over his chest – which was pleasantly devoid of clothing. Gulping slightly at the sight of his half-naked body, Ginny tore her gaze from his really quite attractive muscles to his eyes, which were glimmering with amusement.
"G-good morning," she stumbled, gulping again.
"Please, come in," he invited, standing back from the door to let her in.
"T-thank you," she muttered, stepping past him and into the hotel room.
Draco watched with a wicked smile as she dropped onto the edge of his unmade bed, and stared at her duffel bag, which sat untouched on the desk.
"Is there something I can help you with, Virginia?" He asked after a moment, leaning against the wall.
"I need clothes," she stated, looking over at him, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes.
"You need clothes, do you?"
"Yes."
"What if I don't feel like giving you any clothes, Virginia?"
"Damn it, Draco!"
"Language, my dear."
Ginny sighed, exasperated.
"Please?"
"Please what, darling?"
"Please can I have my clothes?"
"Give me one good reason why I should give you your clothes."
"Because I certainly can't go around wearing nothing, now can I?"
"You have clothes in your room, don't you? The ones you were wearing yesterday?"
"DRACO! You can't honestly believe that I would wear a set of clothes two days in a row!"
He smirked, pushing himself from the wall, and sauntered to the desk. Removing the spell, he started to sift through the contents of the duffel before throwing a handful of clothing at the pouting redhead seated on his bed.
She caught the ball of fabric before it hit her head, and sorted through the garments, laying each one on his bed as she examined it.
"You don't think I'm going to wear this, do you?" Ginny asked after a moment, glaring at him.
He cast a glance back at the clothing laid out on the bed, a cruel smirk crawling over his lips as he did so. Replacing the spell over the desk, he strolled over to where she sat, pouting, and lifted her chin.
"You either wear it, or you wear what you've already got," he answered.
"But..."
"Ah, ah, ah, Virginia, no whining."
Pouting still, she grabbed her clothes and stood, wrenching her chin out of his grasp as she did so.
"I need some money, too."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going shopping."
"You went shopping yesterday."
"Only for a little while. Besides, that shop had a lot of things that I wanted, but I couldn't buy them 'cause I didn't have enough money in my purse."
Draco sighed. Gorgeous she may have been, but she really was a confusing wench.
"Why do you need to go shopping?"
"Because I need more clothes."
He sighed again. What was it with women and clothes?
"Just... stay here. I'm going to have a shower."
"But..."
"I'll take you shopping afterwards."
"But..."
"And you might want to get dressed."
"But I don't want you to take me shopping!"
"Why?" He raised a brow, surprised.
"Because."
"Because why, Virginia?"
"Just because."
Sighing yet again in exasperation, Draco pulled out his wand, placed a locking charm on the door of the hotel room, and walked to the bathroom. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw she was still standing in the same spot, pouting.
Shaking his head, he closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. Soon, she heard the water running, and Ginny groaned in frustration. She cast another appraising glance over the lump of clothes in her hands, and sighed deeply.
"Stupid bugger," she muttered, dropping her robe and pulling on her clothes.
Surveying herself in the mirror, Ginny grumbled in distaste; Draco really had no fashion sense. Or, rather, he had no idea about how she liked to dress; what she liked to wear with what. In her mind, she looked like a hooker. No doubt Draco would appreciate her uniform.
She heard, faintly the sound of the water cease, and dropped once more onto the edge of the bed, glaring at her reflection.
Her back was to him, when he left the bathroom, but she saw him in the mirror. He smirked, seeing her apparel, and strode over to her, a towel wrapped around his waist. He stood in front of her, his eyes traveling over her body, and nodded his approval.
Her gaze locked with is, and she fingered one of the pleats in her skirt.
"You can't expect me to go out like this."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because I look like a fucking hooker."
"Language, darling. And you look smashing; no need to worry."
"So in your esteemed opinion, I don't look like I just stepped off the cover of some porn mag?"
"Of course not. What gave you the idea that you look like you've just stepped out of a magazine?"
"The fact that this skirt is about four inches too short."
She stood, so he could see the way the skirt hung just barely over her rear, and tapped her foot in irritation.
"My dear, if you didn't intend to wear the garment, why did you bring it?"
"Because, you moron, I generally wear this skirt over a pair of jeans or something. It's called style."
Draco shrugged, unperturbed. She glared, usual petulant pout firmly in place on her lips.
"Do you have any other problems with your apparel, or can I get dressed?" He inquired, raising a brow.
She noticed for the first time that he was wearing nothing more than a towel, and felt a blush creep steadily up her cheeks.
"Go get dressed. I'll complain more later."
Smirking, Draco left her and returned to the bathroom, after grabbing a pile of clothes from his suitcase. She heard the bathroom door lock shut, and examined herself in the mirror once again. The skirt, if it could be called that, barely reached the tops of her thighs. The red plaid was accentuated by a white dress shirt that was entirely too tight, in Ginny's eyes, and a pair of white socks that reached over her knees.
"I look like a fucking naughty school girl," Ginny muttered, glaring at her reflection in distaste.
Turning away, she spotted a pair of shoes lying on the ground; Draco had dropped them earlier, rather than throw them at her. Bending down, she grabbed them, and caught her reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. She had a clear view of her black knickers.
"Bugger. Better remember not to bend down at all today," she remarked, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on her shoes.
The bathroom door opened, and Draco stepped out, looking rather like he had last night, dressed all in black. His hair was slicked back, and Ginny thought for a moment, recalling how his hair had looked earlier.
"You know, your hair looks better when it's not all slicked back like that," she commented, rising from her seat on his bed.
"And your point is?"
"I was just making an observation, love. Now, can we please go? 'Cause in case you haven't noticed, I kind of have to make myself look a little more presentable," Ginny retorted, fingering her now dry hair.
Draco sighed, and removed the locking spell from his door. Grinning, Ginny grabbed the red beret that completed her ensemble, placed it on her head, and left the room, Draco following closely.
A/N: Sorry this chapter is kinda long, but I couldn't really find somewhere to cut it off. Here will have to do.
My thanks to all of my reviewers, whom I love.
And, just to warn all of you, updates may be a little slower in coming, 'cause school is starting back up again on Monday, and I have classes and such, which generally means homework. Which means I don't have as much time to spend writing fanfics. *sniffle*