Chapter Six

True to Draco's word, by the time I arrived home again that evening the reporters had mysteriously vanished from my property and there were an impressive series of security measures in place. I was equally pleased to see that the newly erected fence around my front garden was tastefully chosen to match the look of my cottage - but it was Draco Malfoy who had arranged everything, after all, and I shouldn't have been the least bit surprised.

Despite the restoration of my privacy, and my near-exhaustion after our lengthy shopping trip, I had a fitful sleep. I wasn't sure what troubled me so deeply, but the image of Draco running after me just as he had when we escaped the reporters the previous day was the only image that stayed with me when I woke the following morning.

I cooked a basic meal of eggs and toast - all but devouring it in my nearly zombie-like state - and mostly pottered about my cottage for the day before I went through my usual Sunday afternoon drills. It was unseasonably cold, and the brisk air was exhilarating as I flew higher and higher. I couldn't help but smile as I plunged back to earth; the wind whipped through my hair and leaves whisked up to graze my skin when I pulled out of the feint mere centimeters from the ground. I then flew a few laps around my vast garden - hugging so close to the ground I could feel the grass against my legs - spiralling further and further outwards until I was dodging amongst trees and trailing up the sides of the tall hedges lining my garden's fence.

Satisfied with my performance, I landed just shy of my cottage and dropped onto the ground, lazily stretching out my calves while I breathed heavily.

"Do you ever take a day off?" a voice called, and I looked up to see Draco standing at my side gate.

"I thought my wards were supposed to keep unwanted visitors away?" I joked with him as I finished stretching.

"You wound me," he said, looking anything but as he gripped the gate and rattled it. "Your outer wards are designed to keep reporters at bay, but you still need to allow me onto the property."

I suppressed a grin, grateful that he'd had the opportunity to grant himself free reign of my home but chosen to preserve my security, while I walked over to the gate and held it open for him. "Won't you please come in?" He followed me into my house, and I offered him tea - which he declined with a shake of his head - so I poured myself some water and we sat down at my kitchen table together. "You're a bit earlier than I thought you'd be."

"I thought we should discuss our story, so you'll have answers ready when you're inevitably questioned. Besides, we should attempt to arrive early so we have sufficient time to discuss the matter with your parents."

"I've already owled Mum last night to let her know you were coming," I said as I laid out the china, experiencing a perverse sense of satisfaction when I turned to see Draco had been looking at my behind with a heated expression. I kept my observations to myself, out of courtesy for the fact Draco had done the same for my own strange behaviour. "I didn't explicitly mention the details of our situation, either; only that we'd be over early to help her prepare."

Draco looked at me with such a horrified expression, I almost laughed. "I sincerely hope your mother is not expecting me to help."

"I think she wanted you to make the trifle," I said with a smile, and he scowled at me. "Of course not, you're there as a guest. You can sit at the kitchen table and look pretty while I try to avoid setting anything on fire."

"Thank Merlin," he said, levelling his gaze at me when I snorted at his obvious relief. "I'm not skilled in the art of homemaking."

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. "You and me both. So, what's our story?"

"We've been dating for several months now, after we ran into each other at an event and continued corresponding after. I was a presenter at the end of season Quidditch award evening last year, so I think that would be the best place to say we met."

"You did?" I asked him, confused. I didn't recall seeing him that night, but I was sure I would have remembered.

Draco looked amused. "Yes," he confirmed. "I presented the 'Best Debut Player' award."

"Oh," I said with a deep blush, realising why I hadn't recalled seeing him. The debutante awards were always bestowed at the beginning of the evening, and I'd arrived to the gala late due to the fact I'd been otherwise engaged with Bernhardt Roth - the Cannons then 'It' Keeper.

I wasn't sure this was something I wanted to explain to someone that had been raised in such high society. Somehow the thought of Draco Malfoy judging my choices in life was an upsetting one; almost as though I cared what he thought of me.

Draco raised a brow at my reticence, but pushed on. "So, as we were both in attendance that evening, I think that is the best place for us to have 'reconnected'."

"I don't think so." I fixed my gaze on the ceiling, knowing that my extra-curricular activity that evening could cause repercussions if it ever came to light - I was sure that Rita Skeeter could twist the events to make it seem like I'd had an affair, or something equally ridiculous. I didn't particularly care who knew about my sex-life, however I wasn't willing to suffer through my current predicament, only for it to come to naught. Besides, I'd be damned if I'd let a reporter make out that I was the wrongdoer while in a relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Draco obviously managed to put two and two together, regarding my reluctance to take advantage of that particular event. "I see." He cleared his throat, and I risked a glance to see his carefully neutral expression. "Well, do you have another suggestion?"

"Uh, not really. We don't eat at the same restaurants, or shop at the same stores, and I'm sure we don't drink at the same bars. We have literally nothing in common."

He waved his hand, as though common interests were inconsequential - though I had to disagree, considering we were supposedly in a serious relationship. "You met Theo at that muggle bar near my office, didn't you? What was it, again?"

"The Forbes Hotel?" I supplied, eyebrow raised.

"Perfect." He spotted my parchment and quill across the table and pulled it towards him in order to write a message. "I'll arrange everything."

"What do you mean, 'you'll arrange everything?' And I don't think this is a great idea - a muggle bar is the last place you'd be caught dead."

"Don't presume to know where I would or would not be caught dead," Draco told me, matter of factly, as he signed the note with a flourish. "I've visited muggle establishments from time to time."

I snorted. "Really."

"You forget, dearest, that I was once an even larger social pariah than you ever were," he told me as he went to the next room, and I followed to see him throw some floo powder in my fireplace along with the precisely folded note.

"What was that?" I asked him.

"I'm sending my elf to tamper with the bar's security footage, so there is a record of us in the building together." I blinked at him, so he continued. "Again, Ginny, you forget that I've already gone to worse lengths to secure my social standing. Be grateful we aren't altering anyone's memories."

My mouth twisted in distaste at the thought of doing something so deceptive. I wanted to ask for details, but I wasn't sure I wanted to hear them. "Are you expecting a 'thank you' for not taking the worst course of action?"

"Of course not," he said, straightening his shirt. "A kiss would suffice."

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with that, when I caught his smirk, and I thumped him on the chest instead. "Stop being such a twat!"

"But you make it such fun," he replied, the corners of his storm-ridden eyes wrinkling in that not-quite-smile of his. "Now, let's go introduce our illicit relationship to your family."

xxxxx

Once I finished explaining the circumstances of our ploy, Mum immediately returned to chopping vegetables while Dad eyed Draco with wary silence.

"Ginny," Dad began, as Mum hacked her way through an aubergine, keeping her hands busy as she sifted through our news. "When you discussed this with your mother the other day, I don't think she meant for you to take her advice so literally."

I couldn't help but be defensive; it was bad enough that this whole situation was out of my control, and I didn't want to be berated for the fact. "We don't have a lot of options at the moment, Dad. Besides, Draco knows what he's doing." Draco's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline - presumably over the fact I'd praised him so vocally in front of another human - and that, combined with Mum and Dad's tangible surprise, was incredibly amusing. "I need to get the press to stop discrediting everything I say, and this is the fastest way to do it."

Mum and Dad shared a meaningful look - the kind that couples shared when they were communicating something to each other - before Mum moved on to preparing the next batch of vegetables.

Dad cleared his throat and was about to speak, when Mum whirled around again and directed her gaze at Draco. "If this is what she needs to do to succeed," she began, and I was taken aback at her authoritative tone, as it was one I rarely heard used for anyone outside of my family, "then so be it. But if you disrespect my daughter in any way, I will personally ensure you regret it."

"I don't doubt it, Madam," Draco said, with a polite nod. "But I can assure you that your daughter has promised to do far worse things to me should anything untoward occur."

"See, Mum?" I said, trying not to smirk at Draco's response. "No reason to get your knickers in a twist. We have everything under control."

She sighed, looking between the two of us. "And I suppose you should call me Molly as well," she told Draco. "We don't stand on ceremony in this house."

Mum and Dad shared another of those looks, and I knew they would try to get me alone for a tête-à-tête later. Draco, however, was spared from any further threats from Mum by the arrival of my older brother Percy, his wife Audrey, and their daughter Molly II.

"M.J.!" I crooned at the sight of my niece, and she immediately put her hands out for me to pick her up.

"Must you insist on calling her that?" Percy asked as Audrey handed the red-haired toddler over and I immediately showered her face in kisses, much to M.J.'s delight. Percy eyed Draco sceptically - clearly having been forewarned by Mum that he would be in attendance - before the two men exchanged a firm handshake.

I shifted M.J. onto my hip so I could kiss Audrey on the cheek. "George came up with it, so take your complaints to him."

I noticed that M.J.'s attention had shifted from me, and she was staring avidly at Draco. "M.J., this is Draco."

"'Rac!" She tried to sound out his name, as she lifted her arms out to Draco and flexed her tiny hands. Draco, in turn, curled his lip and backed up a step.

"Not a fan of children, are you?" I asked him sarcastically, handing M.J. over to Mum. M.J. didn't seem upset by Draco's slight, since she was getting more than sufficient attention elsewhere.

"Not particularly," Draco said with a pained expression as he took another step back, distancing himself even further from my niece.

I tried not to laugh over the fact it had taken a small child to crack Draco's composure. "Just wait until Bill gets here."

Then, as though Percy had unleashed a torrent, my remaining siblings flowed through the house and into the kitchen along with their partners - and, in Bill's case, two overly excited little girls and a wailing baby boy.

"I am so sorry," Fleur said, as she bounced little Louis in her arms, attempting to get him settled. "'e is just not used to zee traveling yet."

Draco breathed a tormented sigh, the epitome of tortured soul as Dominique and Victoire - Bill's daughters - raced circles about his legs. "I'll just step outside for a moment."

I let him go, knowing that any kind of Weasley gathering was not for the feint-hearted, but after a few minutes I crept outside to ensure he wasn't having a panic attack.

Twilight had set in, and I could just make out Draco's silhouette a few feet down the garden path. For all that I'd teased him the other day, he had a lean, muscular build, and I couldn't help but appreciate the hard lines of his body as I moved towards him. I was surprised to see the flare of orange at his mouth, lighting up his firm lips and angular jaw in a reddish glow, and the deep exhale that followed.

"I didn't know you smoked," I said, and he twisted his head to look at me, clearly stunned I'd bothered to find him.

"I don't," he replied, before taking another slow drag from the cigarette. I sat down on the rickety old bench at the side of the path, making sure to stay upwind and avoid any residual smoke, and after a moment Draco finished his cigarette and joined me. "This is all a little… Overwhelming."

I smirked at him. "The unflappable Draco Malfoy only lasted five minutes in The Burrow. I think that has to be a record of some kind."

"Not a good one, I suppose."

I knew enough about Draco's upbringing that I could imagine what a shock his current surroundings were.

"It's just for one night," I tried to comfort him, in a moment of true insanity. He slid a glance at me from the corner of his eye and said nothing, and I took advantage of the looming darkness to study his profile in more detail. His chin and nose were prominently pointed, but you wouldn't notice from the way he held his head high, and the straight set of his back. I felt stiff and restricted just looking at his perfect posture. "You need to relax."

His mouth twitched. "You are - by far - the most tightly wound person I know."

"I am not," I said with a scowl, already regretting my moment of sympathetic weakness.

"Oh, I'm sure it's not obvious to most people," he continued, turning slightly towards me so I could see his smirk. "But you definitely are. You want everything your way, or you don't want it at all."

I crossed my arms. "You say that like it's a bad thing - to know my own mind."

"I never said it was - though I can't help but question the cost." Draco glanced back to the house, where we could see Mum furiously whisking a bowl of mashed potato through the kitchen window. "And I can clearly see which parent you take after."

"Oh, shut it," I said, resting my cheek in my hand. "At least I never joined a cult for mine."

To my absolute surprise, Draco let out an audible laugh, and I must have looked as shocked as I felt at his outward display of mirth. "You always come up with the most astounding responses," he said, in what he must have intended as an explanation for his amusement. "I constantly find myself in suspense as to what you'll say next."

I frowned at him, not sure whether to take this as a compliment, and my frown only deepened when Draco stood and offered me his hand. "Let's go back inside, before your mother thinks I'm out here taking liberties."

I rolled my eyes and took his hand, but when I straightened and he let go I felt the absence of his touch deeply. Instead of dwelling on the thought, I shook it off. "Maybe we should let Mum think that. It'll make our ruse all the more convincing to my brothers."

Draco laughed and took my arm to escort me back inside - and I tamped down the small thrill at the contact. "I appreciate your cunning, but I've already resolved that the Weasley women are not ones I wish to cross."

xxxxx

Draco's cool exterior was firmly in place again when we returned to the house, and it only took me a moment to realise why. Ron had made an instant beeline for us when we reemerged from the garden, trailed by a far-slower Hermione.

"Malfoy," he greeted, his tone short and clipped.

"Weasley," Draco acknowledged my brother and stuck out his hand. Ron eyed it, as though it was some kind of trick, but reluctantly shook it after a nudge from his wife.

"Hermione," Draco greeted my sister-in-law, and they shook hands without further preamble.

"It's nice to see you again," she said, and I stifled a laugh at Ron's expression that Draco and Hermione were on such familiar terms. "I trust the two of you had a productive day yesterday?"

Draco smirked. "In a manner of speaking."

Ron's brow furrowed, as though he were trying to work out what exactly she and Draco were referring to. "Well," Hermione moved the conversation along. "It's lovely now that everything is out in the open."

"Isn't it?" Draco agreed, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

From the near-scarlet colour of Ron's cheeks at Draco's intimate gesture, I knew he was about to say something that would probably embarrass himself. "Mum looks like she needs some help," I said to him, taking his arm and all but dragging him away from Draco.

I glanced back to see Draco's rather devilish smirk as he watched me walk away. Clearly he was back in his comfort zone - riling up my siblings - and I wouldn't need to worry about him too much for a while. Probably.

"I can't believe it," Ron said to me as we reached Mum, and she happily delegated tasks to us, then left to supervise the grandchildren in setting the table. "My own bloody sister, stooping to his level?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not 'stooping' anywhere, Ron."

"You were dating this prick all along, behind all our backs!" Ron hissed. "You didn't even have the guts to tell us!"

"It's not any of your business who I may or may not be dating," I shot back, crossly.

"Do you love him?"

"I- we- It's too soon to tell," I stammered, stumbling over the blunt, unexpected question. "It's why we were keeping it under wraps - you know, until we knew exactly what we were."

"So you were just sleeping around? He's just taking advantage of you!"

"Oh, don't be a prick all your life, Ron," George cut into the conversation as he came over to help carry bowls of food to the dinner table, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. The conversation with Ron was about to become nuclear, after his latest accusation. "You know as well as I do that Ginny's the smartest of the lot of us."

"She is not!" Percy, having overheard this last comment from the next room, objected vehemently.

"You worked under Fudge all those years, Perce - I wouldn't exactly call you the benchmark of intelligence in this family!" George scooped up a bowl and a platter. He heaved a deep sigh, then nudged me with his elbow. "I always knew you were hot for Malfoy, ever since you gave him a taste of your bat-bogey hex back in school. You saved that spell for all the boys you liked."

"Sod off!" I punched George in the arm at his jests.

"Ouch!" George rubbed his arm, dramatically. "You need to lay off the weights, Gin. You could snap poor Malfoy like a twig."

"She's more than welcome to try," Draco said, and I turned to see him leaning in the archway with a wry smirk in place as he watched us banter.

I slid a glance at Ron, who's face had turned scarlet, and decided he deserved to be tortured for his earlier comments.

"Oh, you're so bad, sweetheart," I said as I walked over to Draco and swatted him on the arm playfully. His expression at my flirty tone was comical, though he quickly recovered and wrapped an arm around me. I leant into him, trying not to enjoy his warm, solid chest as I laid a hand on it and looked up at him adoringly.

"No, you are," he replied, lowering his head so our faces were close. "I may need to punish you later."

There was a very distinct retching noise from across the room, and I glanced over in time to see Ron furiously stride over and push the two of us out of the way in order to escape the room. Draco's arms wrapped tighter around me as I stumbled against him, and his embrace reminded me of the day before, when he'd caught me before apparating away from the paparazzi.

"Well, that was sufficiently disgusting," George said with a laugh as he followed Ron out of the room.

I looked back to Draco, who was smirking. "And what did poor Ronald do to deserve that, pray tell?"

"He implied that I was being taken advantage of," I said as I forced myself to step out of Draco's embrace.

"Oh, is that all?"

"It's an awful accusation to make," I explained, as I went to the counter and picked up the remaining platters, handing one to Draco. "That I'm not fully aware of what I'm doing with my body, or I'm not equipped to make those decisions."

Draco looked over me, and I thought he was about to argue, but he only nodded. "That's fair enough."

"Really?" I asked, curious that he didn't have anything further to say - if only for the fact that people almost exclusively did, on this topic.

"I can sympathise - to a degree." Draco said, as we walked through to the next room, where everyone was taking a seat for dinner. "There is no worse a feeling, than to have no control of your life."

I knew from his expression, he was referring to his time under Voldemort. Harry had relayed enough information to me over the years that I knew of Draco's involvement in Voldemort's regime. It was impossible to stop the flood of memories it brought me - ones that had taken most of my teenage years to work through - of a time when I'd all but given myself over to the Dark Lord. I'd only been eleven at the time, and he'd worn a different face, but I hadn't realised what I'd done until it was too late.

Looking at Draco now, I saw the same shadow lurking behind his eyes that I knew had marked my soul forever. While I'd been young when it touched me, and it had affected me for so long, Draco's own wound had only just finished scabbing over.

We shared a rueful smile as we rejoined my family at the dinner table, taking the two remaining seats next to each other. "It seems as though we have more in common than you'd realised," he whispered in my ear, and I could feel his loose hair brush across my shoulder as he leant close. I had to suppress a shudder at the intimacy of the moment, despite the fact we were in a room full of people.

To my surprise, Draco then twined his fingers in mine and lifted my hand in order to press a chaste kiss to the back of it, and for the first time since this whole charade began I genuinely wished that the way his eyes captured mine so fully was real.

xxxxx

It was a surreal revelation, that what I'd initially taken as sexual attraction to Draco - which was ridiculous enough in it's own right - had developed into something far deeper.

I spent the rest of dinner in a pensive mood, allowing Draco to fend for himself against my brother's gibes - and their partner's needling questions about our relationship - only interjecting when I thought a tense situation might need to be diffused, or when Draco nudged me to prompt that I should try to make our story all the more convincing.

Luckily, the fact this was a Weasley gathering allowed my sudden diminutiveness to go mostly unnoticed. Everyone else at the table was too busy shouting over the top of each other to notice my uncharacteristic silence.

Except for Draco, of course. Somehow, he didn't need to raise his voice at all - yet people seemed to stop talking to hear what he had to say. It was especially surprising behaviour coming from my family, who I would have expected not to give him the time of day. But then, perhaps I'd underestimated my brothers' need to grill one of my potential love interests. I gave them little opportunity to do so in the past, thanks to my penchant for brief, private affairs, and Merlin knew they never would have forced Harry to endure such torture.

Draco took this treatment graciously though, and I was grateful that he made such a concerted effort to be civil to my family. I knew I wouldn't have been half so polite to his own family, if I was ever forced to meet them face to face.

Later in the evening, as I hugged mum goodbye, Draco took my arm once again as we walked down the path.

"You've been quiet, tonight." He observed.

"You've obviously never dined with the Weasley family," I scoffed, with false bravado. "It's hard to get a word in, edgewise."

I turned my head and caught my brothers watching us from the sitting room window, so I took the opportunity to cuddle into Draco's warmth, enjoying the feel of his body and the scent of his cologne more than I had any right to. I knew I was playing a dangerous game with Draco Malfoy, but I'd become an addict, and I didn't want to quit.