Summary: Ginny enjoys a lovely cup of tea in the Black house. Draco decides to join the tea party. D/G One shot
She twisted her thick, fiery curls into a messy bun, her glossy locks falling gently onto her freckled face. Her large, honey orbs peered into her empty, pink teacup as she spun it on the table absentmindedly. Her fingers curled cautiously around the handle of the teapot, pouring the steaming tea into the cup, watching the dregs swim in the sea of brown liquid. She grabbed a bottle of honey, squeezing the sticky, sweet stream into the cup. She licked her fingers eagerly, relishing the sweet taste on her tongue. She sighed, bringing the cup to her lips, swallowing the tea gingerly.
"What are you doing, Weasel?" his voice sneered. She whirled her head to him as he strutted to the table, sitting gracefully into the chair. His silver hair fell lightly onto his forehead, and his gray eyes sparkled slyly. Her heart skipped a beat as she gulped down another sip of tea. She gestured wordlessly to the tea, her voice lost in her throat. "Care if I join this little tea party of yours?"
"N-no," she managed to spit out. She flushed slightly, ducking her face under the table, feigning to snatch a fallen item. She emerged, straightening slightly as she watched him place his own tea on the table. His hand snaked its way through the sugar cubes and mint leaves to the honey, squeezing the thick, sweet paste into his cup. He licked his fingers before bringing his cup to his thin mouth. She stared at him strangely. "You drink yours with honey?" she dared bravely.
"Yeah," Draco smirked. "What do you drink it like?"
"Honey," she said quietly. "Like you," she added. His mouth tugged upward into a ghost of a smile, gulping down another sip of hot tea.
She drained her cup of the tea, staring at the remaining dregs in her cup, soaked and clinging to the bottom in a lump. She vaguely recalled Trelawney's uneventful Divination class when Ginny guessed vainly at the leaves in her cup. She now smirked down at her cup, her eyes studying the leaves for a shape. "It's a…ferret," she said to herself.
"What?" Draco asked suddenly. His eyes darkened. He never forgot the Moody incident in his fourth year.
"The tea leaves," she said nervously. "It looks like a ferret. You know, like Trelawney?" Draco nodded, his hand curling over hers as he tugged the teacup gently toward him questioningly. The warmth of his hand sent tingles running down her body, and her heart jumped. Her cheeks blushed. He never released her hand as he leaned toward the cup, his gray eyes studying it carefully. "The small one…it's a heart," he said simply. "You love ferrets." She stared at him, struggling to hide the blush creeping across her face. He then removed his hands to her relief to swallow down his own tea to stare into the dregs inside.
"It looks like a…weasel," he said seriously.
"Really?" Ginny asked curiously, leaning her head toward him to look. His hand lifted her chin, his eyes staring into hers.
"No," he said smiling. "But I love weasels."
"Really?" she said breathlessly, their faces inching closer.
"Really," he said, his breath washing over her face. "Girl weasels." He pressed his thin mouth against her lips, closing the little space between them. Her lips tingled and burned at his touch as they withdrew from the short, sweet kiss, her cheeks burning and eyes twinkling.
"I like ferrets better," she breathed.
Ron glared at the disgusting sight before him, his mouth ready to open to yell. Hermione grabbed his robes, pulling him away from the kitchen. Her honey eyes blazed with a warning, a frown tugging at her lips. "Don't," she hissed.
He stared bewildered. She smiled slightly, pressing her lips against his softly. "I like weasels, too," she whispered. "Boy weasels."