A/N: Stupid or not, sickeningly romantic or not, here it is, for better or worse. Not much action, more of a transitional chapter. Now arduously working on next chapter. I'm very sorry about the delay and my sincere thanks for all the encouragement (cajoling, harassing, etc) to get me off my lazy you-know-what and finally post. K
Chapter 10
"Ready?" Draco murmured, trailing soft kisses down her neck, sending chills snaking up her spine. "Ready for what?"
Suddenly he pushed himself up to look into her eyes, his own wide with the realization of what she'd just said. Ginny gave him a soft, welcoming look, but he didn't return it. Instead, his knees lost the precarious perch they had on the platform and he slipped over the edge. The loud thud and the accompanying yowl of the Kneazle made Ginny jump up, concerned.
"Damn it!" Draco cursed loudly.
"Draco!" Ginny cried, scrambling to her knees. He was sitting rolled over onto his right hip, gingerly massaging his left. Labelle was standing nearby, hair all on end and obviously outraged at having got sat on. Ginny was torn between trying to soothe the Kneazle and trying to comfort Draco. Labelle took the decision out of her hands. The kitten shook herself then stalked stiffly away to leap onto one of the chairs and curl up, back firmly facing the two humans. Ginny looked back at Draco, her stomach tightening at the pain still evident in his expression. She reached for him, but he pushed her hand away with a glare.
"I'm fine, Weasley!" he growled.
Ginny sat back, confused. A minute ago he'd been all soft words and caresses, and now he was growling at her. Had she missed something? "What--," she began.
"Thought you'd just spring that on me, did you? I thought you said you weren't ready, yet," he snapped, rubbing his hip and moving awkwardly into a more comfortable position. "That was, what? Twenty minutes ago?"
"I--er, that was before you kissed me," she replied, surprised and embarrassed. She hadn't been ready until he'd touched her. Then she couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself! She clenched them in her lap and stared at them, shocked at exactly where they'd been and what they'd been doing just moments ago. She'd been so smug and sure of herself, but her resolve had melted under his touch and she'd instantly wanted to go farther and farther. Now she understood why girls her age got pregnant. Contraception had been the last thing on her mind. And then he'd pushed himself away from her like she was some disgusting insect. Ginny's cheeks heated with humiliation. "It's not like I was going to try to force you or anything! If you didn't want to, uh, shag, you could have said so! You didn't have to--,"
"I don't want to shag, Weasley!" he said, his voice stiff and angry. "Get that through your head right now! Not shagging, not fucking, none of those disgusting phrases!" He came to his knees and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"I want to make love to you, all right? Not here on the floor of some dirty little room, but in a real room with a soft bed where we can take our time. I want it to be special for you. Got it?"
Ginny nodded, bewildered. He wanted to make love with her? He cared about the surroundings? With another shock, Ginny realized that despite appearances, Draco was a romantic at heart! She could feel tears threaten, and fought them back. He loosened his grip, but still held her. "Angel," he whispered, "You know I want you, but I can wait, okay? I'm not very patient, but you're worth it."
Ginny reached up to brush his hair from his face, managing a faint smile. "You better not bring me back here, then," she said, her voice quivering only a little. "Because I have to tell you, when you touch me like you just did, I'm not sure I can wait."
Draco blinked at her once, then his expression softened. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. "Told you before, you're great for my ego," he murmured. Leaning forward, he caught her in his arms and kissed her again. Ginny sighed and wrapped her arms around him, surrendering to the wonderful feeling of his kiss.
After a moment, though, Draco pulled away. "I think you're right," he said thickly. "Being alone here with you is dangerous!" He shifted uncomfortably and added, "Damn painful, too! Feel like my pants are ten sizes too small."
Ginny blushed, but couldn't help that tug of feminine satisfaction at knowing she had such a strong effect on her man.
"And we better get you covered up or I'll never let you out of here," Draco was saying. Ginny looked down and saw what he meant. Her robe and blouse were completely unfastened and trailing off of her shoulders enticingly. The tails of her blouse had been pulled from her skirt, and said skirt was hiked nearly all the way up her thighs.
"Oh, lord," she murmured, her face flaming. She reached for the buttons, but Draco brushed her hands aside.
"Let me," he murmured. "After all, I was the one who did it in the first place."
Ginny dropped her hands and watched as he reached for the blouse. He gently pulled it together and started buttoning it. His hands brushed continuously over her breasts, making Ginny gasp quietly. "Are you trying to dress me or seduce me?" she asked breathlessly.
"Both!" Draco stated, smirking with something like satisfaction. He must be pleased that he had the same effect on her that she had on him.
"Well, then," Ginny said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I expect to return the favor as soon as you're done."
Draco's eyebrows rose and he sucked his breath in sharply, but his gaze didn't waver from his task. He continued buttoning until he reached the bottom of the blouse. His hands slid down her skirt and smoothed it back into place, allowing his hands to linger a moment on her bare knees before pulling the robe together. With a final sigh, Draco sat back on his haunches.
"Maybe we better get somewhere more public, angel," he said. "I don't generally suffer from good intentions, and the few I have are crumbling. Are you ready?"
"Not yet," she said, scooting to the edge of the platform. "You're a mess."
He was, too. His own robe had been long since discarded, his shirt and tie were wrinkled and loose, and his hair was tangled and wild. She hadn't quite got to the point of actually removing any of his clothing, but most of his buttons were undone. Reaching out with unsteady hands, she slipped them into the 'vee' of his shirt. She stroked his chest, fascinated at the way his muscles bunched and jumped under her fingers. Finally, though, she began buttoning the loose buttons. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, but didn't move. Ginny tightened the tie, and then smoothed his hair, taking the opportunity to lean closer and press her body lightly against his. As he brought his own hands up to pull her closer, though, she moved away.
"Sorry," she stammered, her heart beating rapidly. "I just like touching you."
"Not complaining, angel," he said hoarsely as Ginny stood quickly. She smoothed the wrinkles from her robe, then retrieved Draco's from where it had lain, wadded up against the platform. Shaking it out, she held it up and nodded to him. Draco stood quickly and allowed her to help him slip into the garment before facing her.
"What now, little weasel?"
Ginny took her time fastening the robe before answering.
"Well, I guess we could go back to the library, but--,"
A loud rumbling interrupted her. Ginny's eyebrows shot up as she looked toward his stomach.
Draco stepped back, hands covering his midsection and a light flush spreading over his cheeks.
Ginny was trying very hard not to giggle as she teased him. "My God, I was sure the roof was caving in! When was the last time you ate?"
Draco shrugged self-consciously. He was apparently remembering what had happened to his last meal the night before. "Lunch, yesterday. Which I ended up spewing last night."
Ginny wrinkled her nose before saying, "You must be starving! Think you can keep anything down?"
"I guess I could, if I had anything to eat. But it's another hour until lunch. Don't tell me you horde food away like a chipmunk?"
Ginny shook her head and brushed a bit of dust from Draco's robe. He cocked an eyebrow at the familiar, affectionate gesture, and then took her hand. She met his eyes shyly.
"Uh, no," she admitted, "but I know the way to the kitchens, and I know a few of the house elves. They could probably be talked into giving us a snack."
Draco frowned and stepped away from her. "Are you fond of poison, little weasel?" he asked brusquely.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," he answered, his voice cool, "you might be able to get something decent from the help in the kitchens, but unless you want to be nibbling on arsenic, I wouldn't let them know you're scrounging for me."
Ginny tilted her head to the side and gave him a confused look. "Why would you say that? What would the elves have against—oh! You mean Dobby!"
Draco smirked. "Exactly," he said. "I'm sure you've heard stories from St. Potter about our former servant and how he was treated in our home."
He stared at her almost challengingly, his arms crossed. Ginny had heard some things, and she guessed even more. Now Draco seemed to be confirming what she'd suspected.
"I did hear a little," she admitted. "But it couldn't possibly be as bad as—," she began before he cut her off.
"Yes it could," he said simply. "In fact, it was probably worse. It wouldn't be a bad idea to remember what you heard any time you start thinking I'm something I'm not."
Ginny shook her head. "I already told you I don't believe everything I hear," she said stubbornly.
Draco reached out to touch her cheek, the aggravating superior expression gone. He just looked at her for a moment. "And that's one reason I—care about you," he said finally. "But don't try to make me out to be a hero, all right? I'm not. That's Potter's job, and welcome to it. My job is to keep you safe and not hurt you, right?"
Ginny held his hand to her cheek and nodded. "Right," she said. There was a catch in her voice and Ginny quickly cleared her throat. "Well, then," she said, straightening. "I'll see about getting you something to eat, and I'll be very careful not to let on who the food's for. But first…."
Ginny hurried over to the chair Labelle was curled up in. "Labelle, love, I'm sorry!" Ginny said, reaching out tentatively to the kitten. Her mind filled with an image of herself bowing low before the Kneazle with offerings of the kitten's favorite foods in almost comic proportions. Ginny grinned.
"You wicked, wicked little creature," she said softly. "So I have to bribe you before you'll forgive me?"
Labelle opened one eye and gave Ginny a smug look of feline satisfaction. The girl laughed. "Yes, your highness," she said, before reaching out to gather the kitten into her arms. "All the catnip and saucers of milk I can manage. All right?"
Labelle purred loudly, snuggling into her friend's arms.
Draco left the room first, scanning the dark passage to make sure there was no one lurking about. He motioned for Ginny to follow, then locked the door behind them. Ginny carefully set Labelle on the floor and glanced back once, knowing she'd never find this place again by herself. Labelle probably could, though, Ginny assured herself.
"How did you find that room, anyway," she asked quietly as they walked back the way they'd come.
Draco smirked, but Ginny couldn't see it in the gloom. "Following your brothers," he said.
"What?"
"Yeah," he said casually. "Few years ago. I was trying to get back at the twins for the hexes they'd put on me after my fourth year. You know, revenge." He paused to see if she would say anything. Ginny remained quiet so he continued. "Anyway, I was following them and they found this place. They used it for, um, social gatherings," he said. His voice suggested that the gatherings might have been a bit friendlier than mere 'sociability' called for. Ginny could imagine so.
"I decided not to tell anyone about it, since I might want to use the place myself," Draco continued.
Ginny's stomach lurched. How many other girls had he brought here, she wondered? As though he'd read her thoughts, Draco added, "And before you start imagining orgies, you're the only one I ever brought here, all right?"
Ginny flushed at having been so transparent. They were now in a larger and better-lit passageway, and Draco chuckled. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to a stop.
"You are the only one in a lot of ways, little weasel. Don't ever forget that, right?"
Ginny swallowed and nodded. She was about to assure him that she felt the same when his stomach gave another loud growl, as though demanding attention. Giggling instead, Ginny patted his firm abdomen and pulled away from him.
"Lead on, Malfoy!" she said. "I'm sure you know the way to the kitchens as well as I do."
Taking her hand, Draco led her onward.
"Can I ask you a question?" Ginny ventured after they'd been walking for a few minutes.
"That is a question, little weasel," he said with a smirk. "But you can ask me another one, if you want. But," he added with a trace of his usual arrogance, "I don't promise to answer."
Ginny rolled her eyes. It was as she'd mused to her friends weeks before. Draco was just being Draco, and she would be stupid to expect him to change, just because he had feelings for her. Gathering her thoughts, she tried to decide what to ask first. That was easy, though. It was a question that had plagued her the night before.
"Blaise said last night that he'd never seen you drink before. Is that right?"
Draco gave her a sideways look and grinned. "Is that your question, little weasel? I mean, if you're only asking one, you might want to ask one you don't already know the answer to."
"Has anyone ever told you you're a smug so-and-so?" Ginny said. "And no, that's not my question, either. I just wanted to know were you got a whole bottle of Ogden's. I mean, you're underage, and I don't think the shop owners in Hogsmeade would sell you any, no matter how rich you are. So where'd you get it?"
Frowning, Draco looked away from her. His cheeks were flushed and the arm he'd placed around her shoulder was abruptly removed. Apparently this wasn't the question he'd expected.
"I, uh, borrowed it," he said finally.
Ginny gave him a skeptical look. She couldn't imagine why he'd lie about sneaking some whiskey, but he was definitely not being completely forthcoming.
"Borrowed? From whom?"
Draco continued down the corridor they'd just turned onto, still avoiding her gaze. Ginny was certain he wasn't going to answer when he finally gritted out, "That oaf, Hagrid."
Ginny stopped. "You stole it from Hagrid?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought you were going to say someone in your House snuck it into the school. But, no, you had to steal it from one of the most decent, nicest, sweetest--,"
"A bloody half-giant who let his pet monster tear my arm apart!" Draco countered, cutting her off.
The teens glared at one another for a moment before Ginny sighed and shook her head. She didn't know why she was surprised. There was no love lost between Hagrid and Draco, Ginny knew that. And to be perfectly honest, it was very much like something Fred or George might do. She wasn't certain why it bothered her that Draco had taken Hagrid's liquor, it just did.
Ginny was about to comment, although she wasn't sure what she was going to say, but he cut her off.
"Look, Weasley," he said, his voice stiff. "I keep telling you that I'm not some fairy tale prince, but you keep trying to see me as something I'm not. I stole the oaf's whiskey, but don't feel too bad. He had three other bottles. I don't think he'll miss it, at least not yet."
Looking away, Ginny tried to reconcile her conflicting feelings. If one of the twins had told her the same thing, she would have teased or chided them, but she wouldn't have felt this sense of disappointment. Somehow, with Draco, it was different, and Ginny realized she wasn't being fair. Maybe it was because with the twins, Ginny knew they would eventually come clean to Hagrid and repay him. She didn't know whether that thought had ever occurred to Draco, though. But she was determined to give him the benefit of the doubt and try not to judge him. Taking his hand and looking straight ahead, Ginny said, "We better keep going."
She heard Draco curse quietly, and then she was wrapped tightly in his arms. "God, little weasel, you're worse than having a conscience! You know that?"
His voice was low and right in her ear, tickling the strands of hair there. "I wasn't going to tell you, but I paid for the Ogden's before I took it, all right? So I stole it, but I didn't."
"Really!?" Ginny cried, turning to face him. She threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. "You keep telling me what a bastard you are, and then you keep proving yourself wrong! Thank you for telling me!"
Draco accepted her embrace stiffly at first, but then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He might have held her there for hours if not for the insistent rumble of his stomach and the plaintive mewling of the Kneazle.
When the trio finally arrived at the painting of fruit that marked the entrance to the kitchens, Ginny carefully tickled the pear into a doorknob. Draco watched, surprised. He'd known of the location, but had never entered, himself, he told her.
"Well, after what you told me, you're not entering now, either," Ginny said crisply. "And neither are you, love," she told the Kneazle. Labelle meowed, but Ginny was firm. "You know you make them uncomfortable, and the place is going to be packed with elves getting ready for lunch. I'll make sure to bring you something back, all right?"
Draco smirked, amused, but the Kneazle gave an almost human sniff of pique and turned her back on Ginny again. Ginny grinned, knowing the kitten would forgive her as soon as she returned with snacks. With that, Ginny opened the door and carefully entered the kitchen.
The noise was unbelievable. When she'd visited the kitchens before, everything was so quiet that Ginny had been able to hear the Kneazles claws against the stone floor. Now she was surrounded crashes and bangs, chops and clops, and thin, tinny elven voices calling to one another around the room. The girl looked around, trying to find Toby and wondering if he were too important to be involved with the workaday routine. Fortunately, she spotted him standing near the hearth and apparently giving instructions to a junior elf. Raising her hand, Ginny waved to the only house elf she really knew.
"Toby!" she called, her voice cutting instantly through the din and causing a sudden, if temporary cease in all conversation.
Toby looked over and his large, bulbous eyes widened even further. He gave a last curt nod to the elf in front of him, and then hurried toward her.
"Welcome, miss," he said as he approached. "The house elves are honored by your visit, miss, but why are you here? Was your breakfast not sufficient? Was the food not to your liking?"
Toby must be extremely disconcerted with her visit, Ginny mused. He'd only 'missed' her twice!
"I'm sorry, Toby," she said quickly. "I—did I come at a bad time? I just wanted to see if I could get a snack for a friend who missed breakfast! I didn't mean to upset anyone."
Toby seemed to stiffen as she said this. Then he turned abruptly away and motioned to the rest of the staff. "Back to work!" he called, waving imperiously at someone across the room. "You, Dobby, come!"
Ginny grimaced. She was hoping not to encounter the Malfoy's former house elf, afraid the elf might be able to sense whom she was sneaking food for. She looked back to Toby, but he was watching Dobby's approach. Dobby looked from girl to elf, obviously confused, but apparently willing to please. He was wiping his long, thin hands on his apron and Ginny could see scars marring the skin of the digits. She grimaced again.
"Welcome, miss," Dobby said when he was standing before her. "Isn't miss the sister of Harry Potter's friend, Ronald Weasley?"
"Er, yeah, that's me," she said nervously. "It's nice to meet you, Dobby. I've heard a lot about you. How you helped Harry in his second year and all the great Christmas gifts you always get for Ron and Harry."
The elf seemed to swell with pride until Toby cleared his throat.
"The young miss is here to get food, Dobby. For a friend who was missing breakfast this morning."
Dobby had glanced at Toby and was nodding, but he suddenly froze. "But, miss," he said, looking hesitantly at Ginny. "Only one student was missing breakfast this morning. Surely miss couldn't be speaking of the young mas--, that is, the Slytherin team captain?"
The look in the elf's eyes clearly pleaded with Ginny for this to not be the case, but Ginny was unwilling and unable to lie. She stooped down, so she could look Dobby in the eye.
"Is that a problem, Dobby? If it is, I'll leave, but Draco hasn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and he was quite sick last night."
Ginny felt a surge of anger at the way the elf had cringed when Ginny mentioned Draco by name, but she pushed it aside. "I don't want to disturb you, Dobby," she said quietly. "But I owe Draco quite a lot. In fact, it's possible he has saved my, um, virtue, if not my life at least two times and maybe even more. I know you were his family's house elf, and I know it couldn't have been pleasant for you, but Draco isn't the same person anymore."
She paused, wondering what else she could say. It wasn't just the food; Draco really would be fine waiting another hour for lunch. But Ginny couldn't stand seeing the elf cower at the mention of his name when Draco really had changed. Not much, maybe, but enough for now.
Dobby turned his large eyes away from Ginny and gave Toby a questioning look. Toby shrugged and said, "The Headmaster has said as much."
Dobby turned back to Ginny, tears filling his eyes. "Is it true, miss? Has the young master changed?"
Ginny bit her lip and gave Dobby a worried look. "I don't really know what he was like before," she admitted. "At least, I don't know what he was like at home. And maybe he'd only different with me, because he sort of cares for me, but—,"
She got no further. Dobby suddenly howled and covered his face with his apron. "It's like a miracle, miss," he sobbed. "The young master has found a nice girl! He's changed!"
Ginny's eyes widened. She didn't want to give Dobby the wrong impression. According to Draco, himself, he hadn't changed much. Ginny had a horrid vision of Dobby flinging himself at Draco in the Slytherin Common Room, sobbing that his former young master was now nice!
"Uh, maybe I should be going," she said suddenly. Draco was going to have to wait for something to eat. "I'm, uh, sorry to bother you all."
Ginny started to back away, but she'd only gotten a few feet before Dobby dashed away. Toby tugged at her sleeve.
"If miss will wait for just a moment, I believe Dobby is preparing a tray," he said, his voice once again the uninflected tone she was used to.
A moment later, Dobby returned to her side, a large tray in his hands. Ginny took it, uncomfortably aware that she might have said more than Draco would have wished, but she hadn't said anything that was untrue. She only hoped the former Malfoy servant wouldn't expect to meet his former young master.
"Th-thank you, Dobby, Toby. I really appreciate it," she said, wondering how to make her escape.
"Miss is very welcome," Dobby said, his eyes red and his face tear streaked. "Dobby added a bowl of milk for the Kneazle. And please, miss, tell the young master that Dobby wishes him well."
Ginny's eyebrows rose, but she quickly thanked the elves again and promised to relay Dobby's good wishes. She backed to the door, which Toby was considerately holding for her, and slipped out into the quiet of the hallway. As the door closed, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thought maybe they'd strung you up, angel," Draco's voice whispered in her ear. Ginny jumped, almost dropping the tray.
"Draco! You scared me!"
"About time, angel. Been trying to scare you for months."
Ginny gave him a mock scowl and lifted the tray toward him. "You can carry your own tray for that remark, Malfoy," she growled.
"Careful, angel," he chided, taking the tray. "You know how I feel about you calling me 'Malfoy'. Let's go sit on the stairs."
Draco turned and led the way back to the darkened stairwell they'd just come down. He sat the tray on one of the risers and turned to pull Ginny into his arms.
"Not so fast, mister," Ginny said, bracing an arm against his chest. "How come you get to call me Weasley, or little weasel, and I can't call you Malfoy?"
Draco grinned as his fingers traced the sides of her throat. "Bothers you, does it?" he asked. "There really is a good reason."
Ginny shivered at his touch, and smiled, almost purring. "And that would be?" she murmured.
"Can't very well call you 'darling' or 'sweetheart' when I'm supposed to be the evil git who hates you, now can I?"
Ginny's eyes snapped wide open. "'Darling'? 'Sweetheart'? Are you joking? And when would that have been?"
Draco smirked and brushed her forehead softly with his lips. "How about, 'Darling, your face is covered with ink'? Or, maybe, 'Get away from Creevey, sweetheart, because you're mine'? Would have tipped my hand, I admit, but then I wouldn't have spent the last few months going insane wondering whether Potter or Thomas was going to talk you into going out with them."
Ginny frowned at him. "You are insane," she said, shaking her head. "Or maybe you're just faint with hunger. You're babbling."
"Then maybe you better stop me, little weasel. Best cover my mouth with something, like maybe yours?"
Now Ginny grinned at him. He was so incredibly sexy, she couldn't believe that he was interested in her. Lifting onto her toes, Ginny brushed her lips against his. Labelle's loud, plaintive mewl startled the couple and Ginny sighed. Moving away from Draco, Ginny said, "I'm sorry, Labelle! I know you're probably as hungry as Draco is. Let me get you your milk."
She sat next to the tray and started lifting the covers from the numerous dishes, looking for the saucer of milk. When she finally found it, she placed it on the floor for the Kneazle.
"I've got to learn to meow like that," Draco complained, dropping to one of the risers and lifting one of the covers from the tray. "I'd get instant attention."
Labelle walked over and rubbed herself against Draco's legs, purring loudly. "Yeah, go ahead, rub it in, little Kneazle! You're the princess and I get the leftover affection."
Ginny couldn't resist teasing. "If you want, Draco, I'll scratch behind your ears and rub your tummy, like I do for Labelle."
He looked up suddenly, his eyes intent. "Best not to put thoughts of you rubbing parts of my body into my head, angel. I might decide that private rooms and soft beds are overrated."
Ginny stared into his eyes, feeling the pull he exerted over her. She leaned toward him, silently agreeing with him. Draco reached up and clasped the back of her neck, pulling her the final inch to his lips. As their lips met, Draco's stomach rumbled again. Ginny backed away, giggling, while Draco scowled at his own abdomen.
"Traitor," he growled, rubbing his middle. "Couldn't have waited another few minutes, could you?"
Ginny laughed harder, all the while trying not to laugh.
"Think it's funny, angel?" Draco said, now scowling in Ginny's direction. "Just wait 'til I've eaten and there aren't any more interruptions!"
Between giggles, Ginny gasped out, "Been—there! Can't—wait!"
Still scowling, Draco took a bite of the sandwich on the tray.
"How did you know all my favorites?" Draco asked when the tray had been emptied.
They'd been talking for some time now and Ginny had gotten more answers to some of her nagging questions. For starters, even though she knew Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle still attended Hogwarts, she hadn't really noticed them hanging around. Draco told her that that was partly due to his being in disgrace at the moment, but mostly because he'd told them to bugger off at the beginning of the school year. Without Draco or someone else with a strong personality to tell them what to do, they just sort of drifted along in anonymity. She also found that Draco's father was growing impatient with Draco's excuses concerning the book he was supposed to steal and Draco (and Snape and Dumbledore) was afraid Lucius might try something else to locate the book before Draco could get rid of it once and for all.
"Why not just destroy it?" Ginny had asked.
"Can't," Draco said simply. "The thing's got hundreds of curses and wards to protect it from destruction. The only thing to do is keep it away from the nutters who want to take over the world with it."
Ginny had avoided comment, knowing that until recently she'd numbered Draco with those 'nutters'. Instead, she asked him if he really thought Marcus Flint was a danger to her. He'd narrowed his eyes at her and hadn't bothered to answer. Getting back on safer ground, they had discussed Quidditch, books, and classes, while Draco slowly finished off the food. Now Ginny was avoiding again. She really didn't want to mention that Dobby had prepared Draco's tray, himself, but she couldn't lie about it.
"Just luck?" she offered, concentrating on covering all the plates once again. Labelle had finished her saucer of milk and, growing bored, had left them to themselves and Ginny reached for the saucer.
"Not likely, little weasel," he said, taking her chin between his fingers and lifting her face to his. "Try again."
Tugging her chin away, Ginny said, "Is that 'little weasel' as in 'darling', or 'little weasel' as in 'you annoying little cow'? I do have a first name, you know."
"You're never an annoying little cow, Weasley," he assured her, standing and grabbing her arms.
Dragging her to her feet, Draco whispered, "You're not a 'Ginny', you know. You're an angel; my angel. When I say 'little weasel', you should know that what I'm really saying is 'darling', or 'sweetheart' or 'love'. Everything I can't say out loud. Always. Right?"
Ginny's eyes met his and saw that he was dead serious. He'd already told her that he wasn't good at saying what he felt, and now he was giving her the key to decode what he could say. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she sighed, "I'll remember."
Their lips met and for several minutes they forgot everything around them. It took the discreet clearing of a small throat to bring them back to their surroundings. Ginny opened her eyes slightly, almost groaning when she saw Dobby standing nervously, shifting from foot to foot at the bottom of the stairs. Draco glanced down and stiffened.
"Dobby is sorry, miss, young master, but he thought he should collect the tray," the elf squeaked. "Dobby thought the young master and his lady would be gone by now."
The elf looked miserably at his feet, twisting the end of the gaudy necktie he was wearing this day. Ginny was about to reassure him when Draco spoke.
"I guess that answers the question of all my favorite foods," he said darkly.
Dobby cringed, as though expecting a blow, and Ginny wondered just how bad Dobby had had it in the Malfoy household. Pretty bad, judging by his reaction. But he didn't have to take any abuse here, she thought suddenly. If Draco raised a finger against the elf, she'd—do something!
Draco gave Ginny a single look, then squatted down so he wasn't quite towering over the quivering elf.
"Draco! I can explain," Ginny blurted out.
"No explanation needed, little weasel," he said, emphasizing the questionable endearment. "You're cooking is excellent, as always, Dobby."
The elf looked up, surprise lighting his face. "Th-thank you, young master," he stammered.
"I'm not your master, Dobby," Draco said sternly. "Haven't been for almost five years. If you want the tray, though, we're done with it."
The elf glanced from Ginny to Draco and back, then sidled up to take the tray. He backed away, still eying Draco. Draco stood, taking Ginny's hand and pulling her close. "Thank you, Dobby," Draco murmured.
Dobby made to turn away, but he looked back once more.
"Miss is right. The young master has changed."