Chapter Ten: A Party, An Article, Another Kiss
"A Christmas Party? When?"
Draco watched as Weasley contemplated, taking a break from her food, her fork hovering in midair.
"We'd have to talk with the rest of the team to decide. I just figured it'd be a nice thing to do. Perhaps after our next match." Draco took note of the way he spoke. We. Our. It felt good to be a part of something, but he also enjoyed the way Weasley was becoming a sort of accomplice, someone to bounce off ideas.
"I love a good party," she responded brightly.
"Not as fancy as the gala, obviously. We could do it at the Manor. Significant others would be welcome."
"Who are you bringing?" asked Weasley with a glint in her eye. He had come to appreciate her humor. They were sitting at the bar inside The Hog's Head. Weasley had suggested it, stating that Aberforth kept mostly to himself, and wouldn't draw attention to the fact that a Malfoy and Weasley were sitting together in civil circumstances. He was a Dumbledore after all. He brought his glass of firewhiskey to his lips instead of answering.
"Well, I can assure you Harry won't be going," said Weasley, picking at her salad. Draco, of course, delighted in this, his stomach flipping. He made sure to keep his face blank to not give away his excitement.
"Is that why you think nothing's changed since the war? Potter's always off saving the world and doesn't make time for you."
He watched as a blush crept up Weasley's face. It was her turn to sip her wine dismissively. "He saved me once, too," she finally said quietly.
A twisted expression broke forth on Draco's face that was impossible for him to conceal. He thought of the Battle at Hogwarts when Crabbe had died, and backed away from the bar jerkily, as if heat from the fiend fire was before him instead of his lunch. Potter had saved him, too. He grabbed at his left arm to ground himself.
"Alright?"
"Fine, Weasley," he sighed.
"You can call me Ginny."
Draco jerked his head to look at her. For some reason, this felt more intimate that their newly termed friendship, just a mere hour ago. To use her given name instead of her surname was an audible declaration of civility. It would prove to anyone listening in how close they had gotten since he began sponsoring her team. He imagined saying it. Would it be natural? Both for him to say and her to hear from his lips? He didn't think so.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Ginny, and then a beat later, added, "Draco."
Gooseflesh rose on the nape of his neck. He quite liked the way his name sounded coming from her. Out loud he said,
"You're funny, Ginny." He made a point to stress her name. He caught her smile behind her wine glass.
"It's short for Ginevra," she said after taking a sip, and then looked up in horror, "but Ginny's fine. Actually, it's preferred."
Draco couldn't help himself. "I quite like Ginevra."
"You and Auntie Muriel both," she deadpanned. "Now it's your turn."
Draco stuttered. "My turn?"
"To tell me something about you that I don't know." The blazing look in her eye made it difficult to say no, even though he really didn't want to share.
"I'm very skilled at Occlumency," he finally said after a while. "My aunt…taught me." He trailed off.
"Your aunt. The one that tried the kill me?"
Draco bit his lip. "The very same," he said dryly. Though he should have looked ashamed he was quite keen to catch Weasley's reaction. Her lips remained pursed, but she bore a an almost triumphant expression. She reached for her glass, her lips marking the rim as she took a sip. Given their history, Draco couldn't believe she had let him kiss her the night of the gala.
He had not, really, given himself time to think about the kiss they had shared. He busied his mind with alchemy instead, since it was a much easier subject than Ginny Weasley was. And though he had promised it wouldn't happen again, he didn't stop himself from imagining it.
"Does that mean you know Legilimency, then?"
"Hmm?" Draco adjusted his eye contact then shook his head. "Nice try." He raised his glass for another firewhiskey.
Beside him, Weasley laughed, and he had to steel himself. He quite liked the sound of it.
"No, I want to know," she pouted. "What number am I thinking of right now?"
"Please. It's much more complicated than that."
"Aha!" Weasley beamed, her hair falling in her face. Draco had to steel himself as she brushed it back, for his own fingers twitched at the idea of doing it himself.
The fact that it was Ginny Weasley that was making him feel this way should have set him off. Or at least kept him thoroughly studying his alchemy scrolls and not enjoying her company whatsoever. But she appeared to him as a bright light. And though there was darkness inside her she was stronger for it, and perhaps that's what he found so appealing about her.
"You git, have you been reading my mind this whole time?" Despite the insult, she was laughing. She even lightly swatted his shoulder, which made Draco long for her touch even more.
"I didn't say I was a Legilimens but if I was, I wouldn't appreciate the naïve assumption that it's simply just mind-reading." Draco feigned annoyance even though his words were true.
"Whatever you say, I'll just no longer be making eye contact with you," she teased mercilessly.
Draco took the bait. "Please don't," he said quietly.
Their eyes met, and Draco felt himself blush. Still, he didn't look away. And though he could have dived into her thoughts, he didn't. Weasley's eyes were searching, bright amber orbs full of hope. He desperately wanted to be what she was looking for.
Abruptly, she started and reached for his left wrist. Draco held his breath.
"Wait, what's the time? I should probably go home. Harry will—" She paused, reading his watch. "I should just go. Er, this should cover lunch." She rummaged through her pockets for some Galleons. Draco couldn't help but be disappointed at her haste. "Will I see you at practice tomorrow?"
Draco was having a hard enough time as it was staying away, but if he was to keep up pretenses, he would need a reason for showing up. He was already spending more time with the team than he had let on at the beginning of his sponsorship.
"Aren't you sick of me, Weasley?" He smirked.
"Ginny," she corrected, rolling her eyes.
"Ginevra." He hoped for a smile and got one.
It had been decided that the Christmas party would take place on December fifteenth after their match against the Appleby Arrows. Draco had busied himself with preparing and decorating the Manor. The Harpies had stated they wanted something casual and fun, which Draco was unfortunately at a loss of how to pull off. As the days drew nearer and nearer to the party, Draco was forced to deal with the boxes and decorations that were currently occupying his drawing room. He was quite overwhelmed by it all, and not for the first time did he wish that Ginny was here to help him.
But he was trying to keep his distance. With their newly termed friendship, Draco was determined to maintain it. Though it has been a long time since Draco was on the receiving end of a woman's flirtatious ways, he was trying to drive it from his mind. He had promised Ginny after they had kissed that it wouldn't happen again, and the two had only grown closer despite the boundary. For his own sake, he needed to proceed with caution. It was too easy to like her.
Draco sighed inwardly to himself. The drawing room was a complete disaster. The tree he had gotten specifically for the party was still completely bare, with boxes of adornments strewn around it, garland and ornaments spilling out. He supposed he better start there. Drawing his wand, he walked over to the box of crimson garland. In the box beside it was gold garland, that glittered beautifully when the light hit it just so. He waved his wand to intertwine the two garlands before stringing it up on the tree. But just as the garland was placed, Draco froze. He remembered the bracelet Ginny had been admiring the day they had spent Christmas shopping together. Was it normal he wanted to get it for her? They were friends now after all? Was that a boundary he shouldn't cross? Would she want him to anyway? There seemed to have been boundaries they were willing to toe all along now that he thought about it. With quick flourishes of his wand, he finished decorating the tree haphazardly, thinking nothing was more casual than that.
At six o'clock, he Apparated to Hogsmead. The bracelet Ginny had been pining over was still at home in its place inside the picture window. He stared at it a long time, imagining the way it would look on her wrist, what she would say when she opened it, before entering the store. It was these thoughts, he'd tell himself, that encouraged him to do it. To purchase the bracelet, to argue with the shopkeeper for a better price, despite it's top quality and his heavy pockets. But just as he was walking out, he caught sight of a man with untidy jet black hair and froze.
"Malfoy," came Potter's voice in greeting as their paths inevitably crossed.
"Potter," he said coolly, relieved that his package was already wrapped up. He reminded himself that Potter didn't know he planned to give it to his girlfriend. "Bit last minute, isn't it?"
"Isn't that what you're doing, too?" Confusion shown on Potter's face.
"Last minute person to shop for," Draco sneered, but his heart was racing. What if Potter was also here for the bracelet? He needed to find a way out quickly.
Potter rolled his eyes. "Some of us work for a living, you know."
"Better make sure you get her something nice, then. I'm sure your savior complex keeps you away." Draco felt like he was thirteen again but couldn't help himself. Without waiting for a response, he walked out, lightly shoulder checking Potter for good measure.
In all honesty, Draco felt like a fool. He should have just given Potter the package. He'd have the perfect gift for his girlfriend and Ginny would then have the bracelet Draco had seen her longing for. She wouldn't have to know that Draco had gotten it for her. He was certain it would restore what he assumed was a dwindling relationship. It would be such a noble thing to do, and wasn't that what he was after? But he couldn't. He wanted it for himself. The look on her face, the anticipatory feelings that came with the idea of giving her the bracelet himself were all his. Perhaps she'd even kiss him on the cheek in thanks.
Upon his return to the Manor, Draco once again took inventory of the drawing room. He'd need to rearrange the furniture to maximize the space. And perhaps there were more decorations and trinkets he could place around the space to make it look more festive. He remembered Ginny saying she loved a good party, and he was trying desperately to make it so.
He was hanging holly when his mother's face appeared in the flames of the fireplace.
"Draco? What are you doing? Are you entertaining?"
Draco rubbed at his face, hiding his exhaustion. "Tomorrow night, yes. A Christmas party for the team." He kept his words brief.
"Hmmpf," his mother replied, inhaling ashes. "I'm not so sure your father would approve of your sponsorship."
"I'm aware," he replied curtly.
"A Christmas party, you say? At the Manor?"
"It's just for the team, mother. I'm surprising them all with new uniforms."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Don't you think you're doing too much for them?"
Draco eyed the wrapped package he had bought for Ginny. She was the only one who was also going to receive a special gift.
"I've got a lot of work to do, Mother. It hasn't been easy, but the community is starting to make eye contact with me again."
"Very well," said Narcissa after a long pause. "I'd like you to come to France for Christmas. It's your first Christmas since we lost your father and I think we should be together."
"Agreed," said Draco, though he had hoped she would come here. He knew the Harpies would be off for the holidays and was hoping to find a different excuse to spend with Ginny somehow. He wouldn't be able to do that if he was in France.
"There was something…else, Draco. Someone's run a story. In the Daily Prophet. It's about your father. They mention his cause of death."
Draco froze. He spluttered. He swore he put a stop to the news leaking.
"It's unclear how they found out," said Narcissa thickly. Ashes flew, and Draco could hear the distinct noise of his mother blowing her nose, though he had trouble looking at her.
"I'm looking forward to seeing you at Christmas," she said with a watery smile, even in the flames.
"As am I, Mother," said Draco, solemnly, his heart swelling.
And all too soon her face was gone.
The next morning, Draco woke with a start. He'd fallen asleep at his desk. Alchemy scrolls sat before him, sprawled out but not annotated. A half-drunk bottle of firewhiskey tempted him and his head throbbed at the memory of its burning sensation going down. Though he had planned on going to the Harpies morning match against the Arrows, he knew he was not in the right state for it. He made his way to the bathroom and attempted to wipe the sleep from his eyes. Really, he simply longed to crawl into his bed for better sleep.
A soft tapping noise was waiting for him when he emerged from the loo, his owl flapping its wings indignantly. With a sigh, Draco let him in, already feeling despair in the pit of his stomach. Without looking at the Prophet just yet, he offered a few treats to Ulysses, then took a deep breath to prepare himself.
Lucius Malfoy's Death Ruled A Suicide
Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater, was laid
to rest on August 12 earlier this year, however,
Ministry officials are just now learning he had
taken his own life at the beginning of that month.
Malfoy, aged 47,was most notable for his immense
wealth and ties with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
However, he seemed to avoid any prison sentence
except for a brief stint back in 1996, after a battle inside
the Ministry. It would later be Harry Potter's testimony on
the Malfoy family that would give them their clean slate, as
both wife and son, also a former Death Eater, avoided prison
as well. It is also imperative to add the Malfoy family, who
were long-standing supporters of both pureblood supremacy
and You-Know-Who, switched sides at the last moment during
the final battle at Hogwarts on May 2, 1998. Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy
was no longer able to live with the ills and dark deeds he had caused.
He leaves behind his wife Narcissa, 46, and son Draco, 21.
Though the article was brief, it packed a punch. Perhaps the harshest part, aside from the now public knowledge of his father's cause of death, was the fact that it also labeled Draco a former Death Eater. He was doing all he could to adapt to this new society of niceties and love, a world in which the man he was tasked to kill, Albus Dumbledore, was apt to live in. But it was proving to be no place for Draco, just as it had for Lucius. He was suddenly thrilled to be spending the holidays in France with his mother.
But first, he had to get through this Christmas party.
When he made his way back to the drawing room, he caught sight of the mess he'd left. His heart suddenly wasn't in it anymore. All he wanted was to be left alone, to stew in his thoughts. To properly miss his father and reflect on what the taking of his own life had meant, since now the rest of the Wizarding world would be doing the same thing. The package carrying Ginny's gift was sitting solemnly on the sofa. What a silly idea, he thought to himself, before banishing it on the mantle. It what world could he possibly be worthy of her? Certainly not this one.
He made quick work of the rest of the decorations. With lazy flicks of his wrist everything was put in place, though it was looking sparse and underwhelming. The team did say casual, he told himself, so he left it as is, and promptly went back to his bedroom for some much-needed sleep.
At five o'clock, he was awoken by a sharp knock at the door. Grumbling to himself, he threw on a robe and went to answer it.
"Weasley? How'd you get in here?"
"Ginny," she corrected, pushing his bedroom door open further. "I let myself in. I figured you'd be in a state. I've come to help."
Draco ran a hand over his face. He was suddenly too aware of his bare chest. Feeling exposed, he tied up his emerald robe.
He watched Ginny smirk. She looked pretty in simple jeans and a dark red jumper. Her hair hung down her shoulders and back like it always did but seemed somehow shinier. She smelled delicate, like something floral, but the fact that she was here of all places, proved she wasn't. Two shopping bags laid at her feet.
"Er, the party isn't until seven," said Draco gruffly.
"Yes, well, I brought some supplies. I peaked into the drawing room and found it fairly lacking. Also," she indicated one of the shopping bags, "I made Christmas pudding."
Draco had the decency to look ashamed. He brought his hand toward his left arm and held it there.
"You didn't have to," he said quietly.
Ginny merely shrugged. "Are you okay? I saw the article." She took a step closer and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Fine," said Draco finally, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat. "How was the match? Did we win?" He took note of the we and remembered it would only tarnish her if he kept including himself.
"It was a slow start, but we managed in the end. I'm bloody tired, though." Her hand remained on his shoulder, and when she brought it down finally, he noticed her gaze lingering on his exposed chest. He knew why. Her hand followed the edge of his robe, where the slight pink of a scar was peaking out.
"That's from Harry, isn't it?" she said hoarsely.
With her hand being so close to his bare flesh, Draco had to hold his breath. He simply nodded in response. Ginny took another step closer, and Draco was sure she could hear his heartbeat. There was barely an inch between them. Surely, they were far too close. He thought of the bracelet he had purchased for her, forgotten on the mantle in the drawing room. In another life, he could give it to her but not this one. He took a step back, letting her hand fall away.
"I, er, need a shower," he finally said.
"I'll finish setting up," said Ginny, blushing.
A half hour later, Draco entered the drawing room only to find it in a much better state than he had left it. Ginny had finished decorating the tree and had even charmed it to look as though fresh snow had just fallen on it. She had also set up different games like Exploding Snap, Wizard's Chess, and Gobstones at different corners of the room. Quietly, he joined Ginny where she was cleaning up the decorations she chose not to use.
"Alright?" Ginny asked. She made it sound lighthearted, which Draco appreciated.
"Yes," he responded, but he didn't think he'd be able to say anything else.
"You could have called off the party."
"I'm fine, Ginny."
Their eyes met. She raised an eyebrow at him but dropped the subject.
"I don't think we'll need these," she said, sending small bunches of mistletoe back into their box with her wand.
"Won't we?" He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was a hopeful edge to his voice. He cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it up, but still remained looking at her.
"You didn't need mistletoe…before," Ginny whispered slowly.
Draco managed a chuckle. "I had consumed a lot of alcohol, and that dress…." He waved his hand as if that was sufficient to fill his thoughts.
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"I invite you to finish that sentence," she said back playfully.
"Oh, it's probably best I don't."
"Does that mean you'd want to? Again?"
Draco's mouth went dry. Though Ginny was blushing fiercely herself, she still maintained eye contact.
"What're you—?"
"I just wonder if we should get it out of our system. You know, so we have a real shot of being friends."
"I don't see how that would solve anything," said Draco. He wrinkled his nose at the thought.
But Ginny simply waved her wand, attaching the mistletoe to the ceiling above them. She bore a rather triumphant expression on her face, like he couldn't possibly come up with a way out of this one.
"Ginny, are you sure?" It was the first time he said her name where it sounded natural.
Slowly, she closed the distance between them, nodding, her eyes a deep amber and reflecting the light from the Christmas tree.
"It's bad luck if you don't," she said. And with that, she stood on tiptoes to place her lips against his.
This time, there was no question that needed answering. She pressed her body firmly into his, and he relished in her curves. The floral scent she gave off was consuming him, fogging his head. All he knew to do was kiss her, it was the only thing he felt good at, that made him feel good. She teased his lips with her tongue, and he allowed her entry, deepening the kiss by catching his fingers in her hair. His teeth pulled at her bottom lip lightly, eliciting a sound from deep within her he quite wanted to hear again.
A knock on the door caused them to pull apart abruptly.
Silently, Draco watched as Ginny delicately wiped at her lips, but avoided his gaze. She made to look as if she had just arrived, too, while Draco quickly banished the box of mistletoe.
"Now let's party," said Ginny just as Draco opened the door.
