Chapter Five

"Ginny, wait."

Draco's hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged me forwards so he could take me in his arms. His fingers tangled through my hair and he tilted my head, as he had while we were dancing only minutes earlier, and I watched the shadows play across his face in the moonlight. His expression was all hard angles, and I lifted my hand to touch his mouth, as though to memorise the line of it.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let his cheek rest against my palm, his hand caressing my waist all the while. When he opened them once more, I was taken in by their striking colour, rocked by the roiling storm they held. "Draco?" I asked him, breathlessly.

"Ginny," he replied again, and I could hear urgency in his tone as he tilted my head to one side, his lips pressing against my neck to taste me. I shuddered, arching my back to press my body more fully against his, and his fingers splayed tight over my waist to hold me firmly against him. I could feel every inch of Draco, and I revelled in his warmth and solidness.

His breath was hot on my neck, and the back of his knuckles brushed against the side of my breast, causing me to gasp. "Ginny!" His voice was strangely high pitched, underlined by a dull, distant beating, and I pulled away in confusion...

"Draco?" I heard myself mumble drowsily into my pillow, and I realised the thudding noise was someone beating against my front door.

I scowled as I sat up and wiped away some of the drool gathered at the corner of my mouth, mentally cursing my libido.

I let out a scream at the sudden tapping against the window above my bed, quickly gathering the sheet to cover my chest as I threw back the curtain to see Hermione, poised to knock again. I squinted at her angrily through the window, pointed towards my back door and let the curtain fall closed again. Throwing on the first shirt I could find to cover myself and heading to let Hermione in, my scowl deepened when I looked at my alarm clock and saw the time, realising I'd had less than five hours sleep following last night's Quidditch match. "This had better be important," I said as I opened the door, my stomach falling when I saw the copy of Witch Weekly clutched in her hand. "Whatever it is, I do not want to know."

"Relax; I only came to congratulate you on your win last night - and your first positive news article," Hermione said excitedly as she waddled into my kitchen and plopped into the nearest chair at my dining table. Astonished, I raced over to take a look at the magazine she held, wondering how on earth my playing could have inspired such a thing. I hadn't been satisfied with my performance, in spite of our victory, and my frustration was definitely fuelling a bad mood. "I have to say, I was shocked you'd agreed to it - and I'm sure your brothers will have some choice words for you on the matter - but it was a very clever ploy."

I gazed at the cover of the magazine, the blood having drained from my face, and watched a photograph of Draco and I strolling out of Malfoy Enterprises together, Draco tilting his head down to speak to me before he tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow. The blush that flooded my cheeks even as I quipped back at him was damning, and from the way he smirked in turn it was hard to convince myself that we hadn't been flirting.

I knew what these photos were. The night before last, as we'd walked to the restaurant, Draco had taken a moment to demonstrate how a lady should be escorted when with a gentleman. I'd blithely asked him if that was just an excuse to have women feel his bicep - and recommended he sack his personal trainer if that was case, due to the fact that mine were bigger - but if the headlines plastered across the cover page were any indication, apparently Witch Weekly hadn't gotten the memo.

'Our Secret Love-Affair'

Bachelor of the Year Draco Malfoy and Holyhead Harpies' Chaser Ginny Weasley cuddle up for a romantic evening!

"Oh, god," I breathed, my eyes wide as I tore open the magazine to find the six page spread detailing our 'date'. The photos became more and more damning as I turned each page: a dozen pictures someone had managed to take through the restaurant windows of us sharing our meal and more of Draco standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders in what looked like a far too intimate manner. Worst of all was a partially obscured shot of us dancing together, entwined in such a way that we could have been kissing.

The article did nothing to discourage me from misinterpreting the photographs. It waxed lyrical about what a gentleman Draco was, with a photograph of Draco kissing my hand at the end of the evening before we went our separate ways as evidence of the fact. "Oh, god," I repeated again, pressing my hands over my eyes, unwilling to look at any more of the tripe before me. "Oh, dear merlin, how did this happen?"

Hermione, having sat and observed my behaviour during my meltdown with a quizzical expression, crossed her arms over her rounded stomach. "I take it you didn't know about this, then?"

"Of course I didn't know," I snapped at her. "I am going to ruin that scheming, conniving, bloody Slytherin." Without another word, I stormed over to the back door, ready to head straight to Malfoy Enterprises and hurl every swear word I knew at Draco Malfoy.

"You may want to put pants on first," Hermione called after me, and I threw my hands up in the air in response, turning and storming back to my bedroom. "And if you're planning on going to discuss this with Draco, I would really advise against that. If the paparazzi catch you two anywhere near each other again it's just going to add fuel to this."

I'd managed to shove a pair of jeans halfway up my legs before I realised she was right. Tugging them over my arse, I returned to the kitchen, grabbed a quill and parchment and scribbled a note to him.

"Are you sure you don't want to cut some letters out of this magazine for that death threat?" Hermione asked me as she read over my shoulder.

I glanced at her, wondering what on earth she was talking about. "Too much?"

"Just a tad," she said, pulling the page away from me and passing me a new one. "Why don't you try to be politer?"

"You're right," I said, then scrawled out a few lines and passed it back to her. "Better?"

"'Please explain yourself, you cock-headed, son of a Death Eater'."

"What? I didn't swear once, that time," I said in response to Hermione's bemused expression.

"I think 'cock' counts as a swear word - not to mention the 'Death Eater' part."

"To a first year, yeah," I agreed, then took the letter back off her and stepped outside to have my owl, Lionel, deliver it.

Lionel, to my surprise, merely gazed at me as though I were an idiot. "What? You probably don't even know what 'cock' means."

The owl blinked at me sleepily. "Oh, don't tell me that you're half in love with Draco Malfoy, just like every other person in Britain seems to be!" Lionel continued to stare at me with that hooded gaze of his, then lifted a wing and started picking through his feathers, and I sighed. "Fantastic. I bet you think he wasn't behind this, either."

"Why in Merlin's name are you talking to your owl?" a voice said behind me, and I turned to see Draco Malfoy letting himself into my garden through my side gate.

"For the love of- did anyone see you?" I asked him, grabbing his hand and yanking him inside my house. Then, recalling my current state of undress, I quickly reached down and finished buttoning my jeans.

"Of course not - you only live in the middle of nowhere. Did you forget, we'd agreed to go shopping this morning?" I punched Draco on the arm, and he winced. "What was that for?"

"How did this happen?" I demanded, gesturing to the copy of Witch Weekly that was still open on the table. "I told you I wasn't okay with this."

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs Weasley," Draco said to Hermione, where she sat watching us with raised brows, then turned his attention back to me. "For the record, I had nothing to do with this," he told me curtly, as though he knew exactly what conclusion I'd jumped to.

I eyed him sceptically, crossing my arms. "But how did they know where we would be?

"There could be any number of reasons," Draco said, then helped himself to a seat at my dining table, which annoyed me even more. The sight of him in my kitchen, looking pristine in a casual navy shirt and black pants, made me incredibly uncomfortable, so I remained standing as an act of protest. "The paparazzi have followed me before, on occasion, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that one just happened to be outside my building that evening."

He hadn't quite given a straight answer to my question, and - call me paranoid - it made me suspect he knew something. "Witch Weekly has labelled us - and I quote - 'the most legendary romance of our time'," I pushed on, in spite of myself. "They wouldn't have just pulled that kind of thing out of thin air."

"Based on the many articles written about you in the past, I think you'll find that they would," Draco replied patiently. "You have to trust me if this is going to work, Ginny. Believe me when I say I was not aware anyone was following us that night. I was just as shocked as you are."

I eyed him, sceptically. "You don't look shocked."

"One of the benefits of an early start to the day," Draco said, as he flipped the copy of Witch Weekly closed with a look of distaste. "You have sufficient time to digest... inconveniences."

I opened my mouth to reply, just as Hermione shot out of her seat - surprisingly quickly, for a pregnant woman. "Ginny, could I have a word with you?"

"Fine," I replied, eyeing Draco down a few moments longer for emphasis, then followed Hermione into the next room.

"You're being unreasonable," Hermione told me in a hushed voice.

I scoffed, not bothering to keep my voice down for Draco's benefit. "That's easy for you to say; you're not the one purportedly dating Draco Malfoy."

"That's not what I mean." Hermione lowered herself on my settee, looking visibly tired. "Please, just think about what you're doing here. I understand why you're upset and I know you're not happy with this situation, but what's done is done. Getting Draco offside now won't erase this morning's news."

I wanted to argue my point - that it was the principle of the matter - but I was struggling to vocalise my frustration. I sat down on the lounge next to her and dropped my head into my hands. "I just - I didn't want this."

Hermione put her arm around me, and we sat together in silence awhile as she let me sort through my angst.

"Well there have to be some perks to dating Draco Malfoy," she eventually said. "At least you'll get to tell everyone how bad he is in the sack after this is all over and you can break up."

"I'm not going to shag him," I said too loudly, horrified. More alarming was the fact I'd actually fantasised about shagging Draco Malfoy not once, but twice already.

Hermione laughed as she nudged me. "Well they don't know that."

After I realised that she'd been joking I couldn't help but laugh with her - at the ludicrousness of my situation - and I felt a little bit of the tension wash away. "I'm going to have a shower. Would you keep him occupied?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll see if I can get any more information out of him."

Sighing, I ducked back into my bedroom and through to my ensuite, undressing as I went. Not wanting to give Draco a reason to loiter around my cottage longer than necessary, I made short work of my shower, pulled my hair back neatly and put on the lightest amount of makeup. I hadn't intended on making any effort today, but now that the media had decided Draco and I were an item and my risk of being photographed in public had exponentially increased, I didn't want to give Mum further cause to be ashamed of me by looking like an utter slob.

When I reentered the kitchen, I found Draco and Hermione enjoying a cup of tea and a very serious conversation - which stopped promptly as soon as they noticed me. I eyed them both suspiciously, but Hermione spoke before I had a chance to get a word in.

"I'm sure the two of you have a busy day planned, so I'll get out of your hair," Hermione said as she hefted herself to her feet and absently ran a hand over her belly. "I'll floo home too, if you don't mind. I know it's silly, but I'm tired, and I worry about apparating in case I manage to splice the little one."

"Of course," I said, giving her a hug. "Don't come over again unless it's an emergency - a real one next time. I'm more than able to come to you."

Hermione slid me a glance that said 'unless you're avoiding me', but thankfully didn't voice her thoughts in front of Draco.

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon," she said to Draco as they shook hands, then stepped into my fireplace and vanished in a torrent of green flames.

I took out my wand and sent the used crockery to the sink to be cleaned, just as Draco was reaching for his teacup. "Shall we?"

"Why of course, dearest," Draco replied, smirking, then stood and offered me his arm.

I ignored him, instead making a point of removing my wallet from my backpack and heading back through my living room to go out the front door - much to his amusement. "So where are we off to first?"

"Diagon Alley," Draco replied, just as I opened my front door and was met with a series of erratic flashes and excited voices calling our names.

"Merlin's beard!" I yelled in shock, before slamming it shut.

"I'd forgotten how irritating it is living with insufficient boundaries around your house."

"My house is a mile from the nearest road!" I exclaimed.

Draco nodded. "Yes, but all of your outer wards surround the rear garden, and there isn't even a fence around the front."

"I wasn't exactly expecting to be overrun with Inferi anytime soon," I scowled, turning back towards the kitchen. "Let's go by floo."

My witty comment was rewarded with a smirk as Draco caught my arm. "It's too late now since they've already seen us; we might as well take the opportunity that we've been presented with. How far is it until we're outside the anti-apparation ward?"

"A quarter mile," I told him, unsure I liked where he was going with this.

"I know this will be a challenge for you," Draco said as he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in, and I tried not to blush at the way our bodies pressed closer. "But attempt to make it look like you don't despise me."

I scoffed. "I've been in love before, Draco; perhaps I could give you some pointers on what it looks like to have feelings?"

"You forget that I've done this before, love," Draco said with a smirk, then opened the door to the masses.

I was used to crowds of people at Quidditch games, and even being surrounded by photographers - held back by a barricade - as I walked onto the pitch, but having a crowd jostling me on my own doorstep was a new experience, and definitely not one I was enjoying. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief for Draco, who somehow managed to simultaneously rush me ahead of the crowd while preventing anyone from touching me. I wondered how many times a person had to experience being overrun with reporters before they became such an expert at getting away from them - and, for the first time, I felt a jolt of pity for Draco.

Soon enough, we broke away from the hoard and sprinted the last few feet to where I knew the boundary ended. I skidded to a halt as soon as I was clear of it, turning back to look for Draco who'd fallen behind. "Try to keep up!" I called back to him with a grin, and when he reached me moments later he grasped my hand and I prepared for him to apparate us to our first destination. To my surprise, he tugged my hand so my body fell against his, and he wrapped both arms around me in an intimate embrace before we apparated away with a crack.

I pulled away from him the second we landed, taking a moment to re-orientate myself and realise we were at the back of The Leaky Cauldron. "Nice show," I said - far too flippantly - to Draco, who had propped himself against the facade of Diagon Alley in order to catch his breath. "And I've finally found something that Draco Malfoy is rubbish at. Are you going to be sick?"

"I never claimed to be good at everything," he huffed, while attempting to compose himself. "And I certainly am not."

"You do a great job of creating the illusion that you are, then. It's probably that patronising tone of yours," I said, taking out my wand and tapping a series of bricks on the wall to open the passageway. "Quickly, Malfoy, or someone might see you and think you're human."

Draco righted himself as the bricks slid apart, and we entered Diagon Alley together. "You are delightful, as always, Ginevra."

"See? That's the tone I'm talking about," I quipped, and he smirked at me. We walked in silence for a while, and I was grateful to see that we'd ventured out early enough on a Saturday that the street was fairly empty. "How long do you think it will be until our entourage finds out that we're here?"

"I'm sure it won't be too long," Draco told me as we stopped in front of Madam Malkin's. "You'll find these journalists are incredibly resourceful."

I sighed. "I can't believe we're in this mess."

Draco held the door to the shop open for me, and I rolled my eyes as I entered, then made a point of holding it open for him once I was inside. "Don't be so negative," he said with an amused smirk, as he glanced about the shop. "Take this as an opportunity. We can discuss it further over lunch, if you like."

I sunk onto a round ottoman by the fitting rooms sullenly, still in disbelief that I was stuck in such a predicament. "I guess we'll have to." I chewed my lip, then groaned. "I'll have to redo all of the wards around my property as soon as I can clear those pests out of my garden, too."

Draco waved his hand. "I'll take care of it. Ah, Madam Malkin," Draco greeted, before I could tell him not to worry, and I turned to see the woman in question emerge from the back of the shop. "Such a pleasure to see you again."

"Mister Malfoy," the witch greeted cordially, as she bustled towards him. "How can I help you, today?"

"My girlfriend requires new robes," he said, waving me over, and I tried not to cringe at the term as I went to stand next to him.

Madam Malkin's expression was comical. "Ginny Weasley." She said my name as though I was the last person she'd expected to see - and, under the circumstances, I suppose I was. I rarely ventured into her shop these days, as I had little need for robes thanks to my choice in profession, and I guessed that I was the exact opposite of Draco's usual choice in companion. "And Draco Malfoy. Together."

"Yes," Draco said, his arm going about my shoulders again, and I didn't bother deciphering whether my urge to shudder was in disgust or pleasure. "We have several benefits to attend, so we'll need a set of dress robes."

"And- ah, which range would you like to look at?" Madam Malkin's eyes darted between the two of us, as though she were conflicted.

"My usual range," Draco commanded, as though that were the obvious answer, and I let him if only because I had no appetite for shopping.

"Excellent," Madam Malkin clapped her hands together. "Right this way, Miss Weasley."

I was lead into the fitting room at the back of the shop, and within minutes she had me stripped, measured and pinned into a sample garment.

When Madam Malkin pushed the curtain back, I found Draco reclining in an armchair in the centre of the fitting area, enjoying a cup of tea. He waved me forwards, and I felt like an idiot parading about in front of him until I reached the large, gilded mirror opposite.

The gown was… incredible. The deep red was a colour I wore often, as I knew it complimented my pale skin well without clashing with my hair, but I'd never looked so good in something so sexy. The neckline of the strapless number plunged low, and the slit up the leg rode high, and while it was truly an impressive feat that all that fabric managed to stay in place despite the amount of material actually holding it against my body, it really wasn't my style.

"No," Draco said, before I had a chance to say as much, and I had a momentary urge to take offence at his quick decision before he continued. "Perhaps something less... American."

Madam Malkin huffed and herded me back into the fitting room before I had a chance to express my opinion, and soon enough I was in a new dress and the curtain was flung open again.

"No," I said, the second I caught a glimpse of myself in a mass of bright pink ruffles. "This must be what Umbridge looked like when she was seven."

Draco's eyes crinkled, as though he was fighting a smile. "I agree." He propped his chin on one hand and looked at Madam Malkin. "Something more sophisticated, if you would?"

Faster than anything, I was back in the fitting room and out again, and I couldn't help but notice Draco sit up straighter when I emerged. My gown was a deep blue, and was very obviously vintage inspired with a wide boat neck, a mid-cut back and floor length, column skirt. When neither of us offered an opinion, Madam Malkin took it as a good sign and summoned a pair of sample shoes for me to try.

Draco rose and came to stand next to me in front of the mirror, and despite his comparatively underdressed appearance, I could see what a striking pair we made. "This one," he said, with a decisive nod.

"Stunning, isn't she?" Madam Malkin said as she clapped her hands together gleefully, then proceeded to help me step onto a platform so she could begin to fully tailor the gown. I tried to stand as still as possible, while she tsked over my figure. "My, you have broad shoulders."

I raised my eyebrows as I examined my reflection, trying not to take offence - my body wasn't overly disproportionate, but I was well-muscled thanks to my athletic lifestyle. "Well, yes. I play Quidditch."

"Oh, of course I know that, dear," Madam Malkin said conversationally as she waved her wand to let the shoulder out some more. "I mean that they're very broad, for a woman-"

"They're lovely," Draco interjected, as though to end that particular conversation, then went to peruse the front window.

"Well," the older witch responded, obviously having a thing or two more to say to Draco but clearly biting her tongue.

I frowned, wondering at Madam Malkin's outspokenness. Granted, I rarely saw her these days, but it seemed uncharacteristic for her to have nothing to say, and I wondered if Draco's Gringotts vault had something to do with that.

"That's all I need you for today," she told me a few minutes later, helping me step off the pedestal and return to the fitting room. I changed out of the garment and she took it out of the room with her while I finished dressing.

When I emerged, I had my wallet ready to settle my purchase, only to find Draco waiting at the door. "We'll be back later today to finish the fitting," he told the older witch, then took my arm and left.

"I didn't pay," I told him, turning to go back to the store, but he continued to guide me out to the street.

Draco waved his hand again, as though he didn't want to hear me mention money. "It's on my account."

I stopped, too confused by this to focus on the fact he'd paid for my dress. "You have your own account?"

"Of course. How else would you pay for things?"

I blinked at him. "Are you telling me that you don't carry any money with you?" His nose wrinkled, as though the topic was making him uncomfortable, and I had to laugh. "You are ridiculous. I can pay for myself."

"I know," he said as he tugged me forwards again and we continued on our way, and I was momentarily stupefied at how comfortable I had grown to having Draco's hand on my body in just a day. "However, as your 'boyfriend', I should spend a healthy amount of money on you. Speaking of which-" Draco handed me a bag I hadn't noticed him holding as we left, and I opened it to see that he'd purchased a purse. It was a small, black tote with a tan handle, as well as a longer strap so I could wear it across my body. "I charmed it so that it will never get any heavier, no matter what you put in it."

I glanced from him, to the purse, then back again uncomfortably. "But you're not my boy-" He gave me a look, and I realised this discussion was not one we should be having in such a public setting. "I just mean, love, that you don't need to spend a sickle on me. We're stuck together no matter how much or how little you dote on me."

He smirked at me in amusement again, at my clearly considered wording. "I know," he said, patting my hand as we walked up to the next store. "But you know how Malfoys like to get their way."

xxxxx

Hours later, and following several hushed arguments over the merits of purchasing items on sale, I was ready to throw the towel in.

"Can we please call it a day?" I begged as I slumped down into a chair to take off the shoes we'd agreed to purchase. "This is exhausting."

"We haven't gotten everything on our list yet," Draco replied, as he waved the sales assistant away with my items. "And we still need to have your dress finished. The first benefit is on Tuesday."

I groaned, realising I had a full day of Quidditch training the following day - but at least that would stop me from drinking too much and making a fool of myself. "Can we at least stop for something to eat? I'm starving."

Draco sighed. "Alright," he acquiesced, shaking his head when he saw how instantly my attitude improved at the prospect of food. He paused as we collected our bags to leave, picking two items up from the front counter and handing one to me - a pair of dark sunglasses.

I immediately fished into my wallet for change and handed it to the shop assistant before he had a chance to ask her to add it to the bill, grinning at his bemused expression. "It isn't even sunny out," I said dumbly, as he put on a pair of his own and we left the store.

"It's much busier now," he said, pausing a moment to allow me to put on my own pair, then tucking my hand into his elbow once more. "And it's more likely we're going to be recognised."

I frowned. "I doubt a pair of sunglasses will fool anyone for long."

"That's the point. We don't want to look like we're trying to attract attention, but if we are noticed then that's not such a bad thing."

"But how is it a good thing? You say we have so much to do today, but how are we supposed to do it if we're overrun with reporters?"

"If the magazines are publishing stories about us on a shopping trip, it means they aren't publishing stories about you putting your foot in your mouth," he said, and I nudged him in the side in response. "And I would gladly sacrifice the rest of our afternoon to avoid that happening."

Just as he finished speaking, a girl walking in the opposite direction to us spotted me, and began tugging on her mother's hand excitedly. "It's Ginny Weasley," I heard the girl whisper, and I couldn't help but smile at the girl's Harpies shirt and her excited grin. The mother waved her over with a tolerant sigh, and we stopped as the little girl approached us. "You're Ginny Weasley, aren't you?"

"Well spotted," I said, pushing my sunglasses onto my head. "What's your name?"

"Agnes," she said with a blush. "Could you sign my shirt?"

"Of course," I paused, realising I didn't have a pen, but Draco handed me a marker a moment later. I grimaced at him, then went to sign the back of the girl's shirt. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"My dad taught me to play. I'm going to try out for Chaser on the Hufflepuff team next year."

"Good luck. If you train hard over the holidays, you'll definitely make the team."

"You're really nice," the girl told me, and I laughed. "I've never met a famous person before."

"Oh, I'm nobody," I replied uncomfortably, and the girl's excitement dimmed.

"She's just being modest," Draco interjected. "But if you learn to play as well as Ginny does, you might even play in the Quidditch League one day."

Agnes's face lit up, and I tried to hide my own shocked expression at Draco's open praise. "Do you think I could play for the Harpies?"

"I think you can do anything you set your mind to, if you work hard enough," I said, encouragingly.

Agnes grinned at us, happy as anything, before her mum pulled her away.

"That wasn't so hard," Draco said as we continued on, and I rolled my eyes.

I shrugged. "She was harmless."

Draco tilted his head towards the other side of the street, and I saw a wizard watching us covertly. "Not as harmless as you would think."

xxxxx

I frowned at the menu in front of me, wondering what on earth a Bacheofe was. In fact, I wasn't sure what most of the dishes were, and I vowed that this would be the last time Draco would decide on the restaurant. I really hadn't wanted to ask Draco for help deciphering the mains - or to follow his advice and let him order for me - but a brilliant idea came to me just as the waiter arrived to take our order.

"Everything sounds so delicious," I said to our waiter, in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. "I just can't choose. What do you recommend?"

The waiter prattled off the name of a dish, with a vague description of its contents, and I agreed it was a good choice while Draco smirked at me from across the table. "I could have ordered for you," he said once the waiter left, and I grinned at him.

"You could have," I agreed, then took a long sip of my sparkling water as I looked at him, pointedly.

"I think you're craftier than I ever gave you credit for," Draco observed. "I'm impressed."

I tried to look unperturbed at his unwarranted praise (his third compliment, in as many hours - not that I was counting) but from his amused expression I could tell I wasn't fooling him.

Glad he'd requested a secluded table and that we had some degree of privacy, I jumped straight into the topic that had been on my mind all morning. "So, what are we going to do about this?" I asked, gesturing between the two of us.

"It's quite simple, really," he said as he took out a small notebook, and when he opened it I realised it was his schedule. "We act exactly like a couple. When is your next match?"

"Friday night," I answered, watching as he took out a quill and scribbled a note in his planner, then steered the conversation back on topic. "To what extent, though? I'm not going to lie about this to my family."

"I'd suggest keeping the truth of our relationship as confidential as possible," Draco frowned. "How many brothers do you have again? Six?"

"Five," I corrected him, heaving a sigh as I thought of Fred.

Draco frowned, almost as though he regretted asking me the question. "Of course," he pressed on, and I appreciated that he didn't dwell on his mistake. "Tell your parents the truth, if you must, but I would advise against telling your siblings. The best facade is one that the people closest to you believe wholly."

"I'm really not comfortable being so dishonest."

Draco shrugged, as though my moral dilemma was inconsequential. "When are you seeing them next?"

"We have dinner every Sunday."

"Perfect," he said, as the waiter returned with our meals. "I'll do the talking."

"That's really how you want to spend your weekend?" I asked him, as I began digging into my meal - which was delicious, and I silently congratulated myself on my genius in asking the waiter for his recommendation. "Being threatened by my older, overprotective brothers?"

"You know I'd do anything for you, dearest," Draco said, smirking at me with amusement as I choked on my food at his sentiment. "Besides, I've almost forgotten how entertaining it is to rile your brothers up."

"Please don't make me regret this more than I already do," I said breathlessly, after I downed the rest of my water to clear my throat.

Draco's smirk grew as he gave me an appreciative look. "I'm sure I couldn't change your mind if I tried."

xxxxx

AN: Guys, I updated so quickly? Can I have an award? Or a certificate, at least?

Just kidding (mostly). This chapter basically ended up writing itself, with the exception of a few passages that have since been perfected with the help of the illustrious and effervescent idreamofdraco.

I can't guarantee updates this fast in future, particularly as I've started setting a 6k word/chapter precedent, but I will endeavour to continue to overachieve.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last update, and please review this one to tell me what you did/didn't like, etc. etc. I hope y'all enjoyed it!