Warning Sign by 714

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 4
Published: 27/03/2003
Last Updated: 27/03/2003
Status: In Progress

Draco, Ginny, and angsty fluff :)




1. untitled
-----------

Title: Warning Sign

Pairing: D/G (what else? :D)

Rating: R

Summary: Draco, Ginny, and a bit of angsty fluffJ

Disclaimer: It’s JKR’s…I just borrowed them for a little while J

A/N: Yeah so before this all I wrote was a cookie. I am not the impressed-in fact I think I made
it too fluffy, BUT I hope you all enjoy it-at least a little J

This is totally dedicated to Clairvoyant Snake (my supportive cousin); Nappa (whom I absolutely
love, and who made me do this :D)-I tried to make it smutty, but this is about as smutty as I can
write *blush*-I love to read it, but I get too embarrassed writing it, ironic, no?; and Kaykos, b/c
she’s my bud :)

~714 B)

He sat in his large, leather armchair. She had loved to sit with him, in his lap on this chair
while he just held her. She would wrap her arms around him as well, and he loved it when they were
so tight, it was hard to move. Now he sat alone in his room staring at the fireplace, but at the
same time not really seeing the fire or anything else for that matter. He was too busy thinking,
remembering…

*A warning sign
I missed the good part then I realized
I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses
*

God, she was beautiful when she was angry. Then again, she was always beautiful-that thick,
long, fire-red hair; those deep brown eyes he could get lost in; the 5’7” frame that he loved to
stretch out next to after he made sweet love to her; the beautiful body with its perfect curves
that he had inspected every aspect of.

They were fighting again. It seemed like they were always fighting. Sometimes it was about her
family, sometimes about his. Sometimes it was about her friends. Sometimes about the way he acted.
Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes….slowly all the time.

She finally left. He had told her that just as she had familial obligations, so did he. She
couldn’t see the comparison. Her family was loving, accepting, and wonderful. His was arrogant,
rude, hateful, and vengeful. She thought they didn’t give two shits about anything. She wanted him
to get away from the evil, the darkness. He argued he couldn’t just leave-whatever else they were,
they were still his parents. They had given him everything; they cared for him the only way they
knew how-the way they had been raised, the way they thought was best.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. She had asked how much longer he thought he
could avoid joining his father at Voldemort’s side. He insisted he’d figure it out. He’d deal with
it. Hadn’t he managed until now? He didn’t want to think about it right now. She had screamed in
frustration. When did he plan on thinking about it? After the mark had been burned into his arm? He
said nothing, just looked away.

She said she couldn’t take it anymore. She started running around their apartment grabbing
random things. He watched her run into their bedroom and pull out a suitcase. He quickly went after
her, and grabbed it from her hands. He demanded to know what she was doing. By this time she was
crying, tears running down her face. She looked him, with those eyes, those damn eyes, like she was
lost.

She turned away from him, grabbing another smaller bag. This time he just stood there, holding
the suitcase, watching her. She stopped in front of a small photo on their dresser. In it she was
giggling, pushing him away as he tried to hold her in a tight squeeze. She started to reach for it,
but then pulled her hand back. He still stood there in shock. She filled the small bag with
whatever she could. She then walked over to him, crying even harder. She reached up to touch his
face. Grabbing the back of his head, touching the fine, blond hair she had so often run her hands
through, she kissed him-hard-with everything she had. Then, just as quickly, she pulled away and
picked up her wand. He couldn’t move-his insides were being torn apart. You couldn’t tell that by
looking him. He had been trained to always hide the slightest sign of emotion. With one last
glance, she whispered “Take care of yourself,” and then quickly Disapparated.

*
Come on in
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign
When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so.*

It was better this way he told himself as he walked down the busy street. People like him didn’t
belong with people like her. They came from two different worlds-worlds that were not meant to
become one. He should have stopped it before it ever started. What was he thinking anyways? His
destiny was leading him in a totally different direction.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed her. There was no mistaking that hair. He couldn’t see
her. He wasn’t ready for this yet. These past few months had not been enough. He quickly ducked
into the closest shop. The strong scent told him he was in a coffee shop. He made his way into a
far corner and slid into the booth. He groaned and put his head in hands. He heard the little bells
jingle as more customers walked in. He heard a laugh-*her* laugh. Oh God, what were the
chances?

He slouched in his seat, hoping to go unnoticed. He couldn’t help but stare as she and her
friend sat down at one of the tables. A friend. A MALE friend! Who the hell? Shaggy, messy black
hair, round black glasses. He gasped. Potter. Harry Fucking Potter. It was always him wasn’t it? He
was burning-seething with anger. Who the hell did she think she was? Here he was barely making it
through the day, and she had already moved on? And with Potter no less. He had to get out. He
couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to be sick.*

A warning sign
You came back to haunt me and I realized
That you were an island and I passed you by
When you were an island to discover*

He stared at the ceiling. He had lain there all day long. He was going slowly crazy. He had been
getting better. It had been six months. The day of the coffee shop had been a temporary lapse.
Seeing her though, had brought it all rushing back. She was in his mind constantly, wherever he
went, whatever he did-he thought of her, he saw her. This was getting out of hand he had to do
something.*

Come on in
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
I've got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign*

*When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so
* The lights flicked on. She walked into the room and closed the door. Sighing deeply she
rested her head against the door not moving. “Didn’t take you long did it?” asked a voice behind
her. She gasped and whirled around to meet his cold, gray eyes. “Here I am the fool, a fucking
fool, still desperately wanting you, needing you, fucking *LOVING* you and you have already
turned to the boy wonder,” he bit out, each word making her cringe.

She began to cry and made to move, but he pinned her against the door so hard it hurt. “Where
are you going? Going to find Potter? Is he going to save your ass just like saves everyone else’s,”
he asked harshly. She just turned her face away from his. He grabbed her chin with one hand, still
holding her back with the other. “Look at me,” he demanded. He then growled, “Oh fuck,” and his
lips were roughly on hers. Just as suddenly he backed away from her. “I’m sorry, so sorry” he
whispered lamely. With that, he disappeared. In an odd way, it was strikingly similar to the last
time they had been together six months ago.

*And I'm tired
I should not have let you go*

He fell back on the bed, and closed his eyes. What was he doing? Never mind. He didn’t want to
think about this now. He was exhausted anyway. He would think about it later; he didn’t know when,
just later. Just as he was about to drift off, he felt tantalizingly familiar lips caress his own.
He shot up, knocking the other person off. “Ginny,” he breathed not wanting to believe his eyes.
“Shhh,” she responded. She ran her hands down his chiseled chest. Her eyes were closed; she just
wanted to feel him. He could scarcely believe this was real. He had dreamed her coming back to him
so many times. He took her then, and flipped her onto her back. She had undressed before coming to
him. She had always been beautiful to him, but never so much as this moment, when she was staring
up at him. He couldn’t even name the emotion in her eyes. How could someone look so strong, yet so
vulnerable at the same time?

Then, his hands were everywhere, trying to touch as much of her as he could at once. She tried
to return the favor, but he pushed her hands aside. She may have started this, but he wanted to
finish it. He wanted to show her all the things he couldn’t say and this was the best way he knew
how. He worked his way around her body, reveling in its response to him. He made his way back to
her mouth and kissed her until they were both gasping for breath. She tried to wrap her arms around
him, but he held her hands down and pushed his body against her, trying to leave no space between
them. By this point, he was achingly hard. He let her hands go, and concentrated elsewhere. All of
a sudden, he pulled back and just stared at her for a moment. He still couldn’t believe she was
back with him. They had barely spoken since she came back and everything was still unresolved. He
just stayed there until she couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled his mouth down to hers for more
searing, blistering kisses.

He moved to enter her and she encouraged him with the little gasps she couldn’t hold back. He
groaned as he went deeper. It had been so long, he was lucky he didn’t come from just kissing her.
She wrapped her legs tightly around him pulling him into her wanting him as deep as possible. At
first it was slow. He thrust carefully, savoring the sight of her, the sound of her, the smell of
her, the taste of her, and the *feel* of her. She was lifting her hips to meet his every
thrust. He felt her get impatient, as he she started to move a little faster and squeezed her
muscles. He began to slam in and out of her. She sobbed his name while he buried his head into her
shoulder as they climaxed together.

*
So I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms
And I crawl back into your open arms
Yes I crawl back into your open arms…*

Draco rested his head on Ginny’s chest as she held him, lightly stroking his back. “Thank you,”
he said after some time. Her hand stopped. “For what?” she asked. “For letting me back into your
arms,” he answered.



