A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
Warning: nudity, alcohol, mentions of sex
Word Count: 1255
Lucius reached out for the hangover potion he always kept on his nightstand. He'd started drinking heavily every night since he'd been released from Azkaban, since Narcissa had left him, blaming him for all their problems. She'd been right, of course, not that he'd ever admit it. Instead of curling around the bottle, his fingers hit nothing but air. That's when he realized his head didn't ache, that there was no pounding like usual. He didn't have a hangover. He blinked his eyes open.
The room was blurry but he could tell instantly that it wasn't his room at Malfoy Manor. Where was he? What had happened last night? He remembered going out to have a drink instead of staying in. When he went out, there were enough conversations happening around him so he didn't have to hear the thoughts in his own head, the part where he blamed himself for losing her. The part where he questioned every decision he'd ever made.
It was those decisions that had brought him here. He remembered being just out of school. Lord Voldemort was rising and Lucius had been gung ho for his brand of life. The pure-bloods inheriting everything, everyone else paying for their crimes. It had made sense then. It was how he'd been brought up. Now, now he questioned everything he thought was fact. He questioned his choices, his thoughts about muggle borns, about muggles even.
He knew he'd gone to a bar to drink. That much he remembered. He could smell the cigarette smoke, the whiskey. He opened his eyes all the way, not moving except to look around. The walls were painted a pale blue with random straw colored swatches in random places. It was a look that should be horrid, but it actually looked almost peaceful.
He made a mental note to have his study done in a similar fashion. However, the brilliant interior design choice did not tell him where he was, only that he wasn't in any room of the Manor. He sat up, the blankets falling off his naked chest. It was then he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone sleeping next to him. Lucius mentally cursed. He'd gotten drunk as planned, but somehow had gone home with a witch instead of going home to his Manor alone.
At least he was pretty sure this morning couldn't get any worse. That's when the witch decided to roll over and reveal her identity. Lucius stared at her, at the red hair haloing her head, at the freckles crossing her nose. Her eyes were still closed but he knew they were brown. All the Weasley children had brown eyes. A Weasley, he'd gone home drunk with, and apparently done things, with a Weasley!? The witch in question yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Lucius could see the tiny quaffle tattoo on her inner left wrist. He watched in horror as she opened her eyes, they were in fact brown.
"You're still here," she stated, looking at him.
"I just woke up," he replied, as if that excused the fact he hadn't run the minute he'd realized he wasn't home.
"If you want a shower, the wash room's through there," she said, nodding her head to a door. Lucius blinked. He couldn't deny the fact a hot shower sounded good, he often took long soaks in the morning to ease the pain in his leg, but a shower would do in a pinch. "I won't look if that's what you're worried about, but you did give me a nice show last night," Weasley said, a smirk crossing her face. Lucius realized he didn't even know her first name. He'd never cared enough about the family of blood traitors to learn their names.
"How did this happen?" he finally blurted out. He'd never have gone home with someone like her. He couldn't even blame the alcohol. He could hand his drinks just fine.
"You got drunk, you were crying about being an idiot and how it cost you everything. I was sitting there drinking, minding my own business, mind you, and you turned to me. You said something about not knowing what you were supposed to anymore. You'd always done what was expected of you. Once you realized who I was, you asked me if I would kiss you, since kissing someone of my status was something you normally wouldn't do. I kissed you, because I was drunk and you're hot. Then it led to more than kissing, you started groping me, commenting about my arse being nice and tight," she explained. "You really don't remember?" she asked, tilting her head causing her hair to fall over her naked chest.
Lucius was about to answer when it all started coming back to him. He remembered seeing her at the bar, remembered the kiss. Merlin, that had been an amazing kiss. She certainly knew how to use her lips. He remembered following her out, her laughing about something. He remembered following her through the front door of this flat. He remembered kissing her again, drinking something. Had it been a sobering potion?
"So you do remember?" she asked, interpreting his silence correctly.
"I do."
"Great, now you know I didn't do something stupid to you. You agreed to everything we did and I don't want to hear one word otherwise?" she asked. Lucius fought the urge to smile. This Weasley seemed very much like a Slytherin, the way she talked, the way she arranged things so there could be no questioning things later.
"I did agree," he answered. "And about last night-"
"You don't regret it, or maybe you do, since I'm me and not the kind of girl you would even think about being with. I get that. If you want a shower, take one. If you want to leave and pretend this never happened, I'm good with that too. I'm going to dress and then make some breakfast. You're also welcome to join me, if you'd like to do that," she said, sliding out of bed. Lucius stared at her, marveling at her tight arse, it was still beautiful even sober.
He decided a shower was too good of an offer to pass up. He rose, grabbing his clothing and heading for the wash room. While he walked, limped, he dug through his brain trying to remember if he did know this girl's name, her first name. He finally remembered it as he was standing beneath a stream of steaming hot water. Ginny. Her name was Ginny. Draco had mentioned her at least once in his letters back when he'd still been in school.
"Mr. Malfoy," Ginny's voice asked from behind the door. "You left your cane on the floor. I'm opening the door a crack to put it against the wall," she said. Lucius smiled. This girl, this girl he'd always looked down on was nice enough to bring him his cane, nice enough to make sure he didn't do something drunk that he'd regret.
"Actually, Miss Weasley, please, call me Lucius. And, if you'd like to join me in the shower, I wouldn't mind the company," he called back, a smile on his face since Narcissa had left him. Maybe he'd been drunk when he'd met Ginny this time, maybe he'd been drunk when he'd confessed his life to her, but she was right. She was so different from what he was used to, and maybe that was exactly what he needed in his life right now?
