A/N: I just love reading all your reviews and watching the traffic, follows and favorites pile up. I hope you enjoy (and before you go throwing my body in the river at the end of this - Just remember, this is only to be expected if we're keeping them in character). On that note, enjoy!
"What color are you going to be wearing the ball," Draco asked at dinner nearly a week after he had started helping Ginny in the lab, the two were finishing up their dessert. The Yule Ball was only a week away and had plans to go and have tuxes fitted for himself and Scorpius the next day. Ginny looked up guiltily and contemplated her next words carefully. She and Draco had taken to having dinner together almost every night with Scorpius and Narcissa – like a family. But this was the first time they had gone out alone since he had coerced her into a first date. Draco frowned.
"I'm wearing silver. But Draco…You didn't ask…And – well I accepted an invitation from…someone else a while ago."
Draco let the matter drop and they finished their dessert in an uncomfortable silence. As soon as they were done Draco threw several galleons on the table and helped her out of the chair. His arm was stiff as he guided her outside and apparated them back to her house. They were in the living room when he dropped her arm and frowned.
"Invitation from who?" Draco demanded, his eyes flashing a steely gray – full of rage. Ginny scowled in return and put her hands on her hips.
"It's none of your business," she replied, her voice low. She brushed past him to hang her cloak on the rack – the navy dress she was wearing had climbed several inches in their walk to the door and she hastily pulled it down. Draco drank in the creamy white skin of her thighs, briefly distracted, before he remembered he was angry at her. He followed her into the kitchen.
"To hell it isn't. What are you playing at then? Leading me on?"
"Leading you on? LEADING YOU ON!" Ginny screeched, turning around. "I haven't had a minute alone with you since the last dinner we had. To hell I'm leading you on. You never expressed your intentions towards me, don't act like you fucking own me."
"My son calls you his mother, I think that comes with a certain responsibility," Draco replied, his voice dangerously lower as he stalked forward. Ginny scowled even more and turned her back to him to dig around in the cabinet some more. She finally found one of the bottles Harry had hidden, another of his secret stash for those bad nights, and pulled the cork out of it. Draco took it from her.
"Should you really be drinking that?" Ginny was surprised, to say the least.
Draco woke up the next morning with a stiff neck. They'd fallen asleep on the couch; Ginny nestled in the crook of his arm. He stretched as much as possible without rustling her and then slowly disentangled himself to use to loo. He laid her down on the couch to find the guest bedroom he'd used the last time he was there. When he reached it he stripped down and climbed into the shower. He frowned when he got out, a towel wrapped around his waist, as he pawed through the closet.
He managed to find a pair of black slacks and a black sweater. The sweater fit comfortably, although the pants were a bit short. He sighed and slipped them off. As much as he hated to wear the same clothes without washing them, he didn't fancy showing up in an outfit that was clearly another man's at his mother's again. He couldn't return to the Manor soon enough. Satisfied with his outfit he went into the bathroom and used his wand to dry his hair. He pushed it around his head a little bit and then went digging in the drawers until he found some gel.
Potter would use the same hair products as me, he thought with a frown, but dipped his fingers in and styled his hair easily. He found an unopened toothbrush in one of the other drawers and used it to quickly brush his teeth. When he went back downstairs Ginny was missing.
He shrugged and wandered into the kitchen. He ignored the coffee pot this time, determining it was safer for Ginny to operate it, and went digging in the cabinets to find a skillet. Putting it on the stove to heat up he hummed aloud as he reached into the refrigerator and found some eggs and a block of cheese. He dug around in the cabinets some more until he found a grater and cracked several eggs into the pan. He pulled a spatula from the crock and swirled the eggs around. Taking the grater in one hand he ran the cheese through it so that it fell in the center of the eggs. When it was slightly melted he carefully folded the mixture over, let it cook until the cheese was melting out the side and tossed it on a plate. He repeated the process a second time as Ginny appeared in the doorway. She smiled at the food and put a pot of coffee on.
"Didn't want to try your hand at the coffee maker again?"
"Didn't fancy setting off any alarms this morning," Draco replied. Ginny sat at the table with a fork and took a bite of the omelet.
"This is good," she said appreciatively. She wolfed down the rest of the omelet in record time as Draco watched, fascinated.
"Do you want another?" he asked with a chuckle. Ginny laughed.
"No I'm good thanks…Famous Weasley appetite." Draco put a cup of coffee in front of her and Ginny frowned suddenly. "I'll be right back."
Ginny looked green as she ran from the room. He followed her slowly up the stairs and heard her heaving in the bathroom.
"Not feeling well?" He called into the bedroom. He heard the faucet run and the Ginny emerged a tight smile on her face.
"Yeah…It must have been the food last night," She said. Draco nodded.
"Sure. I'll talk to the cook then. I should go and pick up Scorpius…Maybe you should lie down for a bit.
"It doesn't matter," Ginny said pulling the bottle from him and taking a sip straight from it. She slammed it on the counter as she reached for a glass, but Draco snapped it away.
"If you're pregnant you shouldn't be drinking," Draco replied. He replaced the cork and Ginny made a reach for the bottle, eyes blazing.
"Well not to worry, I'm not fucking pregnant," she replied. Draco loosened his grip on the bottle in surprise and she poured a glass, downing it quickly. "Thought you had it all added up huh?"
"You stopped drinking a month and a half ago. Yes, I thought you were pregnant. That and the sickness last week."
"Well – turns out I'm bloody cursed, so if you don't mind. I'm going to enjoy a drink. And catch the end of the Harpies game, and brood on my past. See yourself out," Ginny replied. She took the bottle with her into the living room and Draco watched her go, unsure of what had just taken place.
Draco wasn't going to leave; he was going to try and, uncharacteristically, talk things through, until he saw the open letter on her kitchen table. He saw Harry's name scrawled at the bottom of the Yule Ball invitation, and then he saw red and apparated out of her apartment. He found himself in front of a classy bar and pasted on his trademark smirk before he pushed the door open and sauntered in. He ignored the grinding bodies of kids, kids very much his junior now, with a scowl, and found his way to the VIP section. There he found a crowd much closer to his own age.
"Draco Malfoy," Blaise Zabini drawled, pulling himself up from the couch and clapping the other man on the back. "Been wondering when we'd see you."
"Getting my feet back under me," Draco said, returning the embrace with one of his oldest friends.
"And dating the Weasley girl," Zabini replied with a knowing smile.
"Hardly," Draco replied and turned his attention to those remaining on the couch. Tracy Davis, sporting a short black dress and impossibly high stilettos uncrossed her legs and stood up giving Draco a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Thought we'd never see you again," she said with a laugh. Next to her sat Pike who reached a hand out for Draco to shake but didn't bother rising. Goyle didn't bother standing either but grunted a hello and offered his hand to Draco. Nestled in the crook of Goyle's arm was a beautiful raven-haired woman who Draco recognized, but could not place.
"Greg's girl, Olivia Shardlow," Blaise offered.
"Long time Malfoy, I was a couple years behind you," the woman offered. She gave him a knowing look and he placed the voice instantly. It was a little more breathy the last time he'd met her. She looked quite cozy with Gregory Goyle though. He remembered that Greg had pursued her in school but she had adamantly spurned his advances, although she was quite eager to fall into almost any other Slytherin's bed, and a couple of Ravenclaw's too. Draco had tried it once with her and never understood why so many were enamored with her after that.
"Viola Richmond," the blonde who had been sitting practically in Zabini's lap offered when Draco's eyes fell on her. "I was a year behind you guys. Ginerva's year," she offered coyly. Draco narrowed his eyes but ignored the comment. The prophet had made a rather big deal of their appearance at the Halloween Ball.
"And Sylvia Melville," Draco said with a smile at the auburn haired girl occupying the last seat on the couch. She met his smile easily and graced him with a nod.
"Been a while," Sylvia replied. Blaise poured him a glass of Whiskey before falling back onto the couch. Draco took a drink before he settled himself in between Sylvia and Viola.
"So what brings you back around this place?" Blaise asked. He had his arm draped over the back of the couch and Viola had practically climbed back into his lap again. Sylvia was almost leaning toward Draco and he was brought back to their Hogwarts days. The only ones missing were Theo and Pansy…And of course, Crabbe, who was no longer with them.
"Needed a break from the monotony of being a single father," Draco replied with a smirk as he finished his whiskey. He leaned forward to pour another glass.
"And so the prodigal son returns," Greg said with a booming laugh. "Glad you could join us Drake – we were just talking about when you would show up in our company again."
"I heard you still have the Weasley girl taking care of your son," Pike said as he leaned forward to grab a glass of whiskey for himself.
"Well, it's only natural for her I suppose. Those Weasley's were born for breeding," Draco replied coolly. "Plus she's pretty good with Scorpius. But he's back home now."
"Well that's something," Tracie cut Pike's next remark off with a look. She, Zabini, Goyle and the Nott's who didn't party as much anymore, had been part of Draco's crowd at school – and they'd missed him when he was gone. The others present at the bar were not so much a part of the crowd, as much as they had been around when it was convenient for the older Slytherins to include them. None of the other girls had taken the mark, and although Zabini hadn't he'd done his part to protect Draco. Pike had been just shy of majority and thus shielded from the horrors of fighting on the losing side of the war. "Let's go get a bottle of tequila Drake."
Tracie easily extracted herself from the comfortable couch, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling him behind her. He threw back the rest of his whiskey as they reached the bar. Tracie motioned for the bartender and ordered their bottle of high-end tequila before she turned around.
"So what's really going on with you Draco," she asked quietly. He frowned and she shook her head. "Don't shut me out. We all tried to get you out. We all worked so hard to prove that it was suicide. This isn't our fault. You've stayed away and you never answered any of our owls.."
Draco went to interrupt and she held up her hand.
"I know you received them. I also know you weren't supposed too. That girl pulled strings for you somewhere high up, possibly all the way to Daddy. That's a long way to go to get you released." Draco shrugged.
"I'm out. That's what matters. I appreciated all your owls, but I couldn't write back. There's much more to the story than anyone but me knows, and I swore an unbreakable vow that I would protect the truth. We all did."
Tracie frowned at this but nodded. She sighed running her hand down her arm. She understood, they'd all taken the same type of vow that they'd protect each other while in Hogwarts. Although the school viewed them as backstabbing and opportunistic, and often they were, his house was a small ground that had banded together over their forced participation in the war.
None of them wanted it, not when it came down to it. They had still been just kids, but all of them had taken the mark, with the exception of Zabini who Draco secretly thought might have been protected because old Voldy was afraid his mother might off him. And in the end they had all protected each other to the best of their, sometimes slightly undeveloped, abilities, and they'd only lost Crabbe. That Draco's friends had survived mostly unscathed, unlike many of the other houses, was a testament to the deep bond among them. He knew it also irked the do-gooders who had sided with Potter.
The bartender had placed the bottle of Tequila in front of them and Tracie picked it up. Pulling the cork out she tipped it into her mouth before handing it to Draco with a smile.
"Only fair we get the first swigs. Just like old times," she said mischievously. Draco returned the smile and took a hefty swig before he let her lead him back to the party.
At the end of the night Draco was piss drunk and debating whether he would splinch himself if he apparated home when he felt a hand slide into the crook of his arm.
"My place is only a block from here. Come sober up before you try to get home," Sylvia said, looking up at him through her long lashes. Draco let himself be led up the street.
"Just to sober up," he said as they reached her door. She laughed and nodded, pulling him inside. A light snow had started to fall and was already beginning to blanket the street.
As Draco was pulling on his clothes the next morning he was trying to hold his stomach in place and convince it not to begin heaving. He sat heavily on Sylvia's couch for some time before he managed to lace up his shoes and grab his cloak. His walk to the nearest appartion point left him with some time to contemplate his situation.
Everyone had always assumed that he had lost his virginity to Pansy, and the two had never denied it. But this more out of convenience than anything else. It was easier to protect one another if the world saw them as a group of couple, especially when this front was presented to the Dark Lord. That it kept his father's mouth shut was an added bonus. In truth, Pansy was one of his dearest friends – though they'd grown apart during his incarceration while she had been raising her family and apparently making friends with the woman mothering his child. He could blame her for deserting him. They had tried, once, actually turning their sham into something resembling a real relationship, but Pansy had wanted so much more than he had been able to give. In the end they had decided that in order to salvage their friendship the rest of it was just going to have to be left in the past – so Pansy had moved on to someone who could give her the affection she so desperately sought.
In fact, he had lost his virginity to Sylvia Melville when she was thirteen years old. He had been fourteen at the time and the two had had a rather sordid history since then. He'd thought, at one point, that he would marry her. However, her brother had been marked the year before him and her family struggled even more than his following the war. Their affair had lasted through his nuptials to the birth of his son. Then, as he watched Astoria spiral into oblivion, he had watched Sylvia follow much the same path. Given her behavior tonight, he didn't think that she had yet transpired that particular darkness.
Her flat was cheaply furnished and held no personal effects. Her father and brother had died in the war, and while he knew her mother was living on the Continent somewhere the two had never been close. They had split the family fortune and parted ways when Mrs. Melville remarried a warlock rumored to be at least ten years her junior.
No, Sylvia Melville was a bad habit he could not kick. But his sour stomach belonged mainly to the fact that he had left Ginny's flat and gotten unbelievably drunk and completely forgotten that his son was waiting for him at his mother's house. He only hoped his apologies would be enough.