chapter 9
Draco woke the next morning, and ate, and the thought occured to him that he hadn't been riding for weeks. He missed that. So he went out to the stable and had a horse saddled, and enjoyed the feeling of the horse underneath him, taking a few jumps and then just wandering back, enjoying the lovely summer day.
I need to bring Ginny out here, he thought, sitting there beside a small pond where the stream trickled prettily over the rocks, forming a miniature waterfall, and letting the horse graze. She likes the little wild places, just as I do. And then it hit him.
He hadn't thought about her all day. Or, he thought, all night. There had been none of the seeking dreams, anyway. The heat was out of his blood. He wasn't under the grip of the potion.
He rode back to the house, and sent a letter to Snape. It was only fair. But then he stopped. She was supposed to come tonight. What should he say? What should he do?
He was successfully distracting himself from his nerves by reading an entertaining series of letters to the editor between two honorable scientists (whose pictures were glaring at each other and mouthing obscenities from opposite sides of the page) when the faint pop of the Portkey came to his ear, and she was there, sweaty and looking harassed.
"You look...." His tone was surprised.
"I do, don't I," she said. "It's been a hell of a day. Hot, the boiler burst, the Auror on duty at the burrow thinks he's Mad-Eye Moody and was interrogating a stray sheep, and then Charlie came to dinner and things really blew up."
"What happened?"
"My mom's going to be a grandmother."
"Ginny...." His heart stopped beating. Oh. Fuck. Ohfuckohfuck...
"Oh, not me," she said, realizing. "No, it's Charlie. It's not that so much as the fact that neither one wants to marry the other. They were friends that liked to fool around now and then. Mum is livid. "
"I would imagine so, " he said, looking at her. "She's a traditional witch, your mother."
"And gotten more so since Dad got the job. Don't misunderstand, I like having new clothes, and buying my schoolbooks new. It's a nice thing. But Mum is just...arrrrgh," she huffed. "Did you know she wanted a full locater spell on me? And on Ron?"
"As in, know where you are all the time?"
"Yeah, that one."
"But...you're here. And if she knew you were, the wards wouldn't keep her out." He shivered. A furious Molly Weasley was a force of nature comparable to a small tornado.
She looked pleased. "Well, Ron told her that she already knew which pubs were his favorites, and unless she wanted to go tell him when bedtime was on a Saturday night, he didn't see the need for it. So she leaned on getting one for me. The Auror listened, nodded...and just performed a telltale for danger."
Draco laughed. "Now, that's someone who had an interfering mother of her own!"
"She said to me privately that I didn't seem to be raising too much hell, and that every seventeen year old needed the ability to just go be elsewhere, and she wasn't about to take that away from me for the sake of a potential threat. I could have kissed her."
"I'd like to kiss her too...she made sure I could see you. Even if you are sweaty and rumpled. Did you miss dinner too?"
She laughed, and relaxed. "No, it all blew up over the coffee. I'll give Charlie this, though, he did come face it like a man. But I -would- like a bath." And then her dark eyes took on a wicked glint.
"Come wash my back." She turned and walked, hips swaying like a veela's, toward his bathroom.
He'd never done this, but wondered why it hadn't occured to him. She was a naiad, hair tarnish-dark when wet, sliding like an otter against him, and they played and laughed, teasing each other as much as anything else. But finally they stepped out.
As she used one more touch of spell to get all the moisture out of her long hair, he looked at her. Beautiful. Long legs, slim hips, narrow waist, and breasts that were, in his opinion, perfect in size and shape. She caught him staring, and got that wicked look on her face again.
"Well..." she said, smiling. "Are you ready now? Or are you just all mouth and trousers?"
He grabbed her around the waist. "Vixen! I'll show you!" He scooped her up and carried her, wiggling, to the bed, tickling her the whole way. She was breathless with laughter.
"Hold up, hold up, Draco, I haven't done the spell!" she finally managed to pant out, and he let go.
"All right...where's your wand?"
"In my robe...hold on..."
She got her wand, and did the spell, and then came back. But the mood had changed, and she nestled into his arms, stroking his hair and his shoulders. He felt the sheer pleasure of this drift over him, and sighed happily as she dropped kisses down his jawline, then caught her mouth with his when she got too close, and felt her melt deliciously over him. He'd think about the potion later. He had a warm and willing woman in his bed, and, well, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity.
Not that he could think straight when she was kissing him, anyway.
Ginny was making a shopping list. New robes. New shirts. New skirts, all for school. The supply list had come, and she used her wand to copy items over onto her main list. She needed to go to Diagon Alley, and she wanted to go tomorrow, so that she could do her shopping before everyone else got there. It wasn't like she was going to grow another inch before school started, two weeks from today. The clock whirred, and Molly's hand moved from "Out" to "Home" just before she walked into the room.
"Ah, there you are, Ginny!" her mother said. She looked excessively pleased with herself, and Ginny looked at her closely. What was up?
"I'll be home tonight, so I'm going to cook supper. I thought a nice crown roast, and...."
"Who's coming, mum? You don't do the crown-roast-with-all-the-trimmings unless it's a holiday or you're impressing a guest."
"Oh, it's just a friend of ours. That nice young man, Alexander Ludsthorpe is coming. I ran into him at the Ministry, and asked him. He has to leave for Belgrade in the morning, but he was delighted, as he said, "to eat home cooking in good company instead of another lonely dinner in his batchelor flat", and I think your brother likes him."
Of course Ron likes him. They're both nuts for the Cannons, Ginny thought sourly.
"Now, off upstairs with you, and wear your new moss green robe, dear, it brings out your eyes and sets off your hair. I know you'll want to look very nice."
Ginny went upstairs, her mother's contented humming following her. Oh, this was very, very bad. At least the git was leaving tomorrow. And then her conscience pricked her. He's not really a git. He's handsome, and he's got money, and he's pureblooded, and he gets along fabulously with your folks, and he thinks you're the best thing since the Firebolt.
"Yeah," she whispered quietly to the confidence of her bedroom closet, "but he's not Draco Malfoy."
Ludsthorp had a polish about him that her mother liked, but Ginny didn't. He was too nice, too slick. Or maybe you just developed a taste for snarky blonds, her conscience prickled again.
She deliberately took out her favorite robes, a delicate cornflower blue that made her feel calm and peaceful, and the pearl earrings her father had given her. She smiled when she thought about the first and last time she'd worn them, the night she and Draco...
Draco would have SO much to say about Ludsthorpe, she thought with a giggle as she went into the bathroom to shower before changing. Probably with that acid little note in the too-purebred-for-words drawl that he loves to use when he's busy taking the piss out of some poor pompous person. Like Ron. It was truly amazing how very like Percy Ron could become, sometimes, especially since he got the ministry job. She didn't blame Draco a bit.
It was a small group tonight, just her and Molly and Ron and Dad and now Ludsthorp. Mum had had decorators in when Dad got the new job, but she hadn't wanted to move, and they'd made the Burrow look...well, less like it had been lived in hard for years by lots of kids. She wouldn't have thought -anyone- could clean Fred and George's room well enough to get rid of the remaining spells seeping out of the wood, but they managed. They hadn't done much to her room, though...she hadn't wanted them to. So now her bedroom was one of the few rooms of the house where her mother's handsewn muslin curtains fluttered at the windows, and the quilt that Molly had made as a girl for her own bed still covered her daughter's bed. The furniture was still the old, battered stuff that she had grown up with. It was safe.
So she put on her favorite blue robe and did her hair, and then finally left the safe haven of her room to find Alexander Ludsthorp in the sitting room, chatting with her brother about the last Cannons game and looking about as out of place as a Satcheverel in a second hand shop.
"Ginny, how....fresh you look," her mother said, shooting her a Look.
"Hello," he said, turning from the conversation, his face lighting up. "You look lovely, Ginny."
"I'll just get everything ready," said Molly, and left them there with Ron. Ginny had a bad feeling about this.
Dinner was so mannerly that it had Ginny feeling prickly and snappish. Ludsthorpe wouldn't know irony if it bit his arse, and her mother was acting as if he were Merlin come to tea. By the time it was over, she had a headache, and offered to see things cleaned up.
"Oh, no," her mother said. "I'll take care of that. Ginny, Alexander was wanting to see my roses...could you show him?"
"Of course, Mum," she said, sighing. They weren't going to let her get away early. Damn it.
The back garden was lovely, she had to admit. Between the twilight just spilling over the fields and the golden light falling out of the kitchen windows, it was lit with a warm light that gilded everything, bringing out the lights in his brown hair, and turning hers to liquid copper. They walked around and looked at the roses, and then he led her to the bench in the corner and sat down beside her, heaving a deep sigh.
"I must admit, I've not been fair to you," he said, surprising her greatly. For all she could tell, he was mostly concentrated on how he felt about things, assuming happily that all around felt the same. Charming, yes, but he gave her a headache. At least the Aurors had found no Dark involvement, and so she could relegate him to the "nod-and-smile-and-occasional-dance" category at the next reception. Thank Merlin.
"I know I was wrong to offer you the bracelet," he said, eyes cast down. "I....rushed my fences. But we've known each other for two months now, and, well..."
He took out a small box and knelt before her.
No. No. Nononono, her mind whispered in disbelief and horror. Ginny remained frozen.
"...would you do me the very great honor of accepting my ring and becoming my wife?"
"I...."
He took her limp hand and put the ring on it, admiring the way the diamond shone in the light from the Burrow's windows, then stood.
"I thought that would look nice on your hand, we've used it for four generations," he said. "Of course, there won't be anything immediate. You'll need time to plan a proper wedding, and I've got to do some traveling in the next few weeks. I was thinking we could do the contract up when I get home from Belgrade next week. I'll go to your dad's office. You don't need to be bothered with all that pesky legal stuff," he said, smiling at her.
She managed to get a few words out. "I..can't take this..."
"Until it's all right and tight? However you fancy, pretty girl," he said, and took the ring off her finger (it was a bit loose) and putting it back in the box. "I'll take care of it, and you can wear it later on."
He looked at his wristwatch. "I'll have to go, or I'll miss my Apparation window to Paris. Til then, sweet," he said, and kissed her before stepping back and apparating.
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