Words - 1781

Rating - T

Warnings - Language, implied sexual situations, angst

#4 – END OF DAYS

"It's over," she had said, and he was, oddly enough, horrified at the thought. Not sure why, because it was just sex and he didn't care for her at all. He could have called it off at any moment too, had been considering doing so in order to get a date just last week; the fact that he'd decided not to had nothing to do with anything.

Because they had rules, and if either one went out with another person, it had to stop for the length of that relationship, because otherwise the other one would expose it to the school. There had been other rules, too, but none of them were relevant at the moment.

She had broken it off, worse, because bloody Potter himself had asked her out. That git had been the founding basis of this relationship if you could call it that – Draco hated him and Ginny loved him, and neither one liked the fact that he was ignoring them both entirely – though after the first experimental kiss had exploded into so much more, they kept it a secret, and never did bother with shocking him. That was when they had made the rules, two days after the kiss, in the back of the library, hushed whispers.

He remembered that she had been frazzled, trying to write down rules, and he'd been smirking, fingers exploring that one loose curl of hair, until finally he let it all down and played with it, her eyes closing as he snickered and tugged her closer.

Then, he had been totally in his element, controlled and enjoying himself, taking pleasure in the lust and the knowledge that he was corrupting an innocent Gryffindor, Potter's innocent Gryffindor at that. It was all a good time and bloody fun and he'd hoarsely muttered, "Yeah, that sounds great," to her suggestions as he swiped his tongue over her collarbone, and now it was all different.

Now, when she said that it was over – her voice stern and cold and determined – he felt an odd flipping, shivery motion in his gut that he didn't like, didn't like at all.

"What, just like that?" Draco smirked, acting like his stomach wasn't reacting to those words with a vengeance, like he didn't feel as though he'd just swallowed one of Longbottom's attempts at a Calming Drought, like he was himself, not too long ago at all.

"Yep," she popped the 'p', looking alarmingly cheery, and Draco's brows knit when the churning increased.

"Hey, try not to sound so happy! My feelings could be hurt, you know!"

Ginny snorted. "Please, if anything's bruised, it's your ego."

Draco usually would have had a retort, and he did this time, too, it would appear any moment as soon as she was done putting her sweater on.

But as soon as that moment came, she scooped up her bag and headed for the door, blasé and probably thinking about Potter and their upcoming date, and Draco clenched his jaw but didn't move.

-xxx-

He turned up, though, the next day, cursing his feet as they marched onward. But it was as much of a shock that she was in the room, and he started on seeing her. "What are you doing here? The Boy-That-Thinks-He's-All-Fucking-That dump you already?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "No, but I like this room."

Draco's stomach hadn't settled since yesterday; he hadn't been able to eat dinner and Madam Whatsherface had told him there was nothing wrong with him. Dozy bint couldn't tell that his stomach acid was boiling up into his lungs, making it hard to breathe and even harder to talk, especially right now.

He coughed, and walked closer, forcing words out. "Sure you aren't up for anything, then? I wouldn't mind a tumble for old times' sake… Got two free periods."

Gave her his best suave smile and slid his fingers around her wrist, privately marveling at her baby-soft skin; winked.

Ginny almost weakened for a second, almost considered it, he could tell, but then she stood up abruptly and started gathering her books, stuffing them in her bag. "I thought," she huffed, her eyes blazing and hair flying, "the agreement was that once one of us called it off, it was over! No more hanging around, no more talking about it."

They had spent an entire day in this room, one long day in the middle of winter, and at one point they were cuddled into that chair she stood next to right now, a magical fire on the table in front of them and her tracing runes onto his skin as they sat in silence. Her eyes had been bright brown, much like now, and he'd kissed her slowly, without much intention of going another round, just because the moment called for it; a soft, sweet, low, long kiss, which she returned and smiled after.

Draco took a step closer. "Yeah, maybe, but I wasn't paying much attention when we made them. Not sure I remember that one." He'd massaged the back of her head and scraped his teeth over her pulse point instead of listening, marveling that she could think let alone write when she was sighing like that, when he was making her sigh.

Ginny glared at him, and Draco grinned back roguishly. "What, worth a try." His stomach bubbled and he curled his toes, releasing the pressure in an undetectable way.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Ginny was angry now, stomping past him. "Just because I thought you'd have the decency for once, to respect my wishes and just – "

Draco caught her, whirled her around. Snatched her bag and dropped it at his feet, gripped into her hair and pulled her face up to his. His other arm wrapped around her back, holding her there tight. "Stay, Weasley."

He mashed his lips to hers, messy in a way that didn't fit with the stupid violins sawing away in his head, and clutched her close, manipulating until his tongue was in her mouth, until he felt her press back, until her hand fluttered up to the back of his head, until her fingers slid into his hair and the churning in his gut was suddenly gone, replaced by a hot, lightheaded giddy feeling, that seemed to be giving Draco a natural high.

He pulled back and laughed, breathing heavily, gulping air, and Ginny laughed too. She was all up against him, pressed close and familiar and hot, pressing all the right buttons and Draco just laughed because hell.

He looked back down at her, a sideways grin on his face that had appeared without his permission, though he really didn't give a shit, and tilted his forehead closer, resting it on hers. Her eyes were a brilliant soft brown, shining, framed by soft wispy flames, and Draco felt that sudden lurching, only this time it wasn't really unpleasant, and it wasn't in his gut either, but deep in his chest, making him take a long, shaky breath.

And just like that one endless day in the middle of winter, the moment called for it and he closed his eyes, leaning close and pressing slow, long, soft.

She smiled after, eyes bright, and Draco gulped.

"Guess we can forget about Potter, eh?" he smirked, before going in for another one, heat still spilling through him and softening everything. At this point he'd be nice to kittens, hell he'd even celebrate Christmas with little kids, he didn't care.

Ginny froze though, in his arms, something that hadn't ever happened before and Draco didn't know what to do with it. He wondered why she wasn't malleable, was suddenly like a slab of ice in his hands, his toes clenching up again, jaw itching to as well.

Ginny stepped back, and for some reason Draco's limbs slipped off her like hot wax, not resisting. "Potter," she spat and he stared blankly, no clue.

"Potter… Is it always about fucking Harry Potter with you, Draco? I mean, can't you think about anything else, is it really possible to hate someone that damn much! God, for a second I – God!"

Draco blinked, lost, as she shuffled around again, picking up her bag and stomping backwards. She was ferocious now, but something was off – her face was reddening, not at all cold like it had been before. Not resolved or determined or stern, but sounding angry, her voice catching; her eyes, he noticed, puffing up, she was blinking rapidly, was that a sniffle? and then she turned back, and yes it was, he saw because he'd moved, suddenly, in front of the door.

"Ginny…" Draco said for possibly the third time in either of their lives, and her face crumpled. She sobbed harshly and shoved at him, rebounding back into the room. He reached up, trying to stop her, to ask, but she shoved again, hard in his ribs and he stepped back with an oof and she was in the hallway.

She stomped backwards. "I am going out with Harry Potter on Friday, and damn what you think! Just damn it, I don't care," sobbing the whole time, and Draco just stood there and watched her go, winded and wounded and her words and actions still reverberating around his head.

He didn't know what was going on, but she turned the corner and screamed, "It is OVER!" and he felt his gut plummet and disappear.

-xxx-

When it began he was suave and confident, cool and calm and perfectly fine, and approached her with the words, "You're in love with Potter, right?"

Then, it had all been a joke, a game and no skin off his nose, harmless fun, just lust and revenge after all, why the hell not.

But now, he went to breakfast and saw her and Potter together, grinning, the fucking idiot all over her, and she right back, and he took a moment to himself, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, carefully letting go of his cup because he didn't want a spill.

Something hot and aching throbbed in his head and pulsed under his skin, spreading like fire on oil, burning him from the inside out and outside in, his gut an empty hole.

When he opened his eyes Ginny was looking at him, deep brown shining, surrounded by blazing fire, that one curl dangling.

When it ended Draco was different, lost though he wouldn't admit it, and every time he saw her with Potter, he took a deep breath and forced it through his lungs, swallowing hot bile; and he smirked at them, and insulted them both, Potter mostly though, always focused on Potter.

And watched her eyes.