Author's Note: This chapter took a long time to write, and not only is it pivotal, but smutty too! Many thanks to SabineLaGrande, who graciously let me use the binding spell she created in her Restricted Section story, Tryptich. Though it's not exactly as she uses it, I feel the idea is the same. Also, I am eternally grateful to where_is_truth and rainpuddle13 for their help, encouragement and beta services. Please read their stuff.
Just so you know, this story will probably be completed in the next 2-3 chapters. I'm writing Chapter 9 now, and the third and final installment of the Who? Trilogy is plotted and planned. Thanks for reading!
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Saturday morning dawned with a cloud-kissed sky that held the shining sun captive overhead. Ginny sat in the thestral-guided carriage with the Creevey brothers, pondering her day and constantly making adjustments.
She'd already put the first part of her plan into motion. Before she'd left Hogwarts that morning, she'd owled Draco with instructions to take the late carriage to Hogsmeade, and included directions and the passwords to the twins' flat. He was to meet her at five that evening.
In order to kill time, Ginny would visit with her friends as usual, at least, until 2:00. Of course, before that she was still obligated to visit Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks and Gladrags before she officially checked out with McGonagall for the afternoon. From the main street of Hogsmeade, she would be traveling a few blocks east to the market to pick up food for that night. As luck would have it, Ginny had stumbled upon a gourmet cooking guide in the Fine Arts section of the Hogwarts library. After poring over the tome, she had selected orange glazed roast duckling with herbed potatoes and fresh greens. For dessert, she would have a pan of dark chocolate fudge. She was excited, but apprehensive -- hoping some of her mum's amazing ability to cook had rubbed off on her.
Ginny was especially nervous about making the fudge; Draco had a notorious sweet tooth. She remembered how the Malfoy family eagle owl delivered thick, sweet-smelling weekly packages for the Slytherin. Of course, he stopped receiving those packages near the end of his fifth year.
Ginny vividly remembered the evening her father came home with a dour look on his face and quietly announced Narcissa Malfoy had been remanded to the Mental Maladies ward at St. Mungo's. A spark of sympathy had flared in Ginny then as she recalled being on the receiving end of Lucius Malfoy's vicious brand of purification. She couldn't even begin to fathom what Draco and his mother had surely endured in the storied Malfoy Manor. But she could not think about that right now. Perhaps she could get Draco to open up to her later, after they ate and relaxed.
The carriage stopped and Ginny alighted with Colin and his little brother Dennis. They had been sent money from home with which to buy new robes. Ginny followed them into Gladrags, browsing in the ladies' section while the boys shopped.
Gladrags was known for the latest in wizarding styles, and Ginny found a beautiful robe that definitely wasn't meant for school. From the looks of the robe, it would fit like a glove, showing off her best assets. She lovingly traced her fingers over the velvety soft hunter green material, knowing with certainty it would be something Draco would approve of.
Feeling impulsive, she snatched the green robe from the rack, inspecting the garment more closely. Delicate embroidery began over the bosom and flowed out onto the stylishly cut sleeves. This was definitely beautiful, and would be suitable for both graduation and more formal activities.
Dashing into the changing room, Ginny found the robe did indeed fit her well. Exiting just as quickly, she searched for the price. A sign overhead proclaimed her robe was on sale. Giggling happily, she rushed to the front counter, knowing she would still have plenty of money left to buy her feast for tonight.
Colin and Dennis caught up with her, having purchased several robes themselves. From there they ventured to Honeydukes and The Three Broomsticks, where Ginny got a light snack and a butterbeer to hold her until dinner that night.
The hours seemed to fly. At 1:45, she searched out Professor McGonagall to tell her she was leaving for the afternoon.
Ginny found her in Zonko's, no doubt regulating the sales of Dungbombs to underage students.
"Professor, I believe I'm going to leave now," Ginny said, smiling at McGonagall. The elderly professor smiled primly, but her eyes gleamed mischievously.
"Do tell your brothers that I've not thanked them enough for all the comic relief they provided. Though it was my job to reprimand them, I always thought they were an ingenuous pair."
Ginny grinned, a full-on Weasley grin that was full of pride.
"Yes, I'm proud to claim them…well, most of the time."
"Do have a nice evening, Ginny dear."
"Thank you, Professor. I'll return by ten tomorrow morning."
Minerva McGonagall, watching graceful girl walk away. Albus had informed her of Ginny's relationship with Malfoy, and her suspicions that the girl was going to her brothers' flat for something far different than a family visit were confirmed when she spied Malfoy alighting from the last carriage into Hogsmeade.
Albus seemed to think it was a fine arrangement; Minerva was not so sure. She had strict orders not to speak to Ginny about her rather infrequent late-night assignations with the former Slytherin unless she showed outward signs she was suffering from the unlikely relationship. Minerva could only watch the blossoming couple. Albus keenly believed the two would be a key element to healing the rift between hard-line purebloods and those who embraced Muggle-borns. She could only hope he was right.
***
Ginny walked quickly to the market, purchasing everything on her list within a few minutes. Levitating her packages, she continued down the street until she came to Circe Circle. Following the twins' directions, she came upon number 17 and stopped. Reciting the twins' ridiculous gibberish passwords and charms to unlock the door, she stepped into the inviting flat with no explosions or trick wards.
The twins had redecorated since she'd seen it last. With their continued upward mobility in the joke market, they'd furnished the flat quite lavishly for Weasleys. Dozens of pictures adorned the walls and a homemade sign flashed "Welcome Ginny and Ferret!" Laughing, she entered the kitchen, finding a charmed Muggle refrigerator heartily stocked with regular food and containers labeled "Canary Cremes, Mint" and "Skiving Snackbox Puking Pastilles, Rotting Strawberry" pushed off to one side.
After she quickly organized her ingredients, she started a fire with her wand and set about cooking in an odd mix of both Muggle and wizard. When she got orange sauce on her sweater, she conjured an apron and continued. The duck was roasting evenly, thank the gods, and the dark chocolate fudge was sinfully good. Many herbed potatoes and thinly sliced greens later, the twins' clock chimed 4:30. She hated to leave her food cooking while she cleaned herself up, but it wasn't quite yet done.
Sighing, she dashed into the bathroom with her valise and showered. A drying spell later and her body and hair were dry. Hermione had given her some makeup for Christmas, and she used it sparingly.
She stood naked in the bathroom, foot hoisted on the toilet lid so she could slather on some lotion. It was vanilla scented, and Draco seemed to like it.
"Need a hand with that?"
She stifled her first reaction, which was to scream. Flinging her head back, she stopped in mid-stroke, covering herself with a towel as Draco lounged against the doorframe, watching her appreciatively.
He loved that after this long with one another, she still covered herself demurely as if they'd never made love.
"Draco! I had hoped to be finished before you arrived," she said, feeling her cheeks turn pink. The towel suddenly seemed much too small under his wandering gaze.
"Much as I'd like to put that lotion all over you myself, I'm going to put this champagne on ice and stir your pots out there."
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Ginny asked. Draco scoffed and began to walk away. "Honestly, Draco, please be careful."
"You obviously underestimate me. One summer I was punished for insolence and Father made me work with the house elves. Dobby taught me far more than I ever needed to know about a kitchen," said his disembodied voice.
Chuckling to herself, she shut the bathroom door and hurried to finish her ablutions. Dressed in a light jumper and Muggle jeans, she ambled into the kitchen, eager to see Draco's prowess.
He was standing over the stove wearing her conjured apron, the front bewitched to say "Kiss the Cook." He was a double-fisted stirrer, artfully swirling the contents of one pot then another with flourishes she'd never seen him make even with a wand. He'd pause to taste then abandon a spoon for a dash of this or that spice. It was enough to make her laugh out loud.
Doubling at the waist, she let loose a guffaw that drew an icy stare from Draco.
"Are you mocking me, my dear?" he asked coldly, nostrils flaring in distaste.
"No, certainly not, Draco, it's just that, well, it's that I never pegged you as having applicable skills, you know."
"Are you saying that my considerable talent in the art of shagging isn't an 'applicable skill'?"
She grinned at him. "All I'm saying is that I had no idea you were so handy in the kitchen." Nudging him aside, she removed the duck from its roasting pan and hefted it to the countertop.
"If you will set the table, I'll have this ready in a few minutes." He appeared forlorn, as if he had truly enjoyed his cooking escapade. Untying his apron, he placed it around her and whispered in her ear, "I'll set the table, but you're going to have a lot of making up to do on account of your prat brothers calling me a ferret." He licked her ear and began to accio dishes and flatware from the cabinets.
***
Ginny sent Draco back and forth to the table, laden with plates and bowls of food. While he filled their plates and carved the duck, she took the pan of fudge out of hiding and carefully iced Happy Birthday, Draco! in metallic green icing she'd half-conjured and half-cooked before showering. Satisfied, she replaced the fudge in its hiding place and went to sit at the table.
Draco looked magnificent in Muggle clothing. He was wearing his Weasley-knit sweater, tailored black pants and low-cut black leather boots. She felt a bit underdressed, but knew in her heart Draco was so vain he'd never think of going anywhere without styling his hair at the very least.
"This is wonderful, Princess. What made you suddenly want to do this?" he asked over a mouthful of greens. Ginny suddenly wondered if she should come out with the exact truth right now.
"Well, I knew I'd be preparing for final exams soon, and getting ready for graduation. I figured we wouldn't have much time to spend together," she said. There, at least half the truth. Draco regarded her contemplatively.
"I suppose you're right," he said slowly, sipping his pumpkin juice. "After you graduate, there's no telling what will happen. And Merlin do I rue the day that I brought you into this."
Ginny bristled. "Are you saying that you wish to be rid of me when the war breaks?"
He shook his head negatively. "No, not that, calm down. I just sometimes think that had I not decided I had to have you that your life would have continued on in bliss with someone who was better matched to you than I. I feel guilty for making you wait for me and sneak around all the time."
Tears glistened in Ginny's eyes. "I'll agree that perhaps the way we came together wasn't normal, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I would have gone on and married some nice, bland boy and been expected to produce a litter. I don't want that, at least not for a long while. And you don't expect that of me. You make me feel alive."
Draco appeared startled.
"Gods, Gin," he said, his voice trailing to a near-whisper. "I don't know if I can promise you anything. If I knew what was going to happen, maybe I could, but…"
She smiled even though a tear broke loose and trailed down her cheek.
"Just promise me tonight."
***
Some time later, the dishes were cleared and the kitchen was rendered spotless.
"Draco, why don't you pour the champagne? I've got to get a few things from my valise," Ginny called from down the hall.
"Don't tell me you've gotten hold of some of those naughty toys, Gin," Draco said, and she could positively hear the smirk in his tone.
"Absolutely not!" she said indignantly. "I'll be back shortly." She entered the twins' guest bedroom, and as she shut the door she heard Draco yell one last thing -- "And you're overdressed, too!"
Ignoring him, she used her wand to remove the shrinking spell on Draco's wand kit and his carryall, transfiguring the past few days' Daily Prophet into black and green tissue paper and wrapped his gifts. While still in the room, she removed her shoes and socks and then padded back out into the hall.
Entering the kitchen, she could see Draco had started a fire in the grate and closed the window shades. On a tray next to the fireplace sat two champagne flutes and the pan of fudge. She was about to get angry with him for snooping, but before she could open her mouth he turned to her, eyes apologetic.
"Sorry, love, I smelled it. You know I can't resist chocolate." Sighing, she carried the packages over to him.
"Happy Birthday, Draco. I know it's a day late, I thought you'd appreciate it anyway," Ginny said quietly, tapping her wand to the fudge's metallic icing, setting it afire. The letters blazed and Draco appeared impressed by her trick.
"I could celebrate my birthday any day with you," he said, pulling her across his lap and kissing her softly, sifting her hair through his fingers.
He couldn't imagine anything sweeter than this, Ginny curled in his lap and kissing him, celebrating his birthday. He'd not had anything close to a birthday since his Mum left, and he wasn't even quite sure if his father could pin down the exact day. But he knew and Ginny knew, and to him, it was all that mattered.
The fudge had brought back pleasant memories of his mother, and her weekly packages from Honeydukes. Again, something he hadn't indulged in for a long time. He wondered if Ginny could even fathom how much it meant to him.
Breaking from her kiss, he scooped up a finger full of fudge from the pan and brought it between them.
"Let's share," he said, putting the sweet on his own tongue and daring Ginny to taste him. Rising to his implied challenge, she impudently stuck out her tongue and attempted to swipe the chunk of chocolate from him.
Pulling his tongue back just in time, he managed to rescue it from Ginny's marauding advance.
"That's not fair, Princess," he gasped, feeling her tongue gain entrance to his mouth. Merlin! The velvety soft feel of her exploring the inside of his cheeks and the rough ridges of his own tongue made him forget all about the fudge that was quickly melting underneath his tongue.
Chocolate-flavored kisses went to Ginny's head like a shock. She kissed Draco as he often kissed her -- hard, questing and stroking every available surface. Her boldness surprised him, but he let her continue her soft assault on his mind and mouth unchecked, secretly thrilling to her unabashed need.
When she pulled away from him, he felt as if the sun had gone down unexpectedly at high noon. Groaning his displeasure, he buried his head between her neck and shoulder.
"You know better than to tease me," he said breathlessly. "I'll only give as good as I get," he said smugly, noticing she had not been unaffected by their kisses.
"I just want you to see your gifts," she said, gesturing to the tissue-wrapped packages. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her back to her, giving her a little shake.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Gin, please, but bugger those gifts, all right? You said so yourself; we might not be together for a long time. Can't we just enjoy a long night?"
For a moment she regarded him with open, curious eyes, deciding perhaps he was right. Everything else could wait until morning. The firelight cast an ethereal glow on him. A stark thought of him going into battle bravely against his father and Voldemort zinged through her mind's eye and for a second she was frozen, knowing in her heart every time they spent together could be the last time.
"Don't think about it, Gin. I'll be fine," he said, puffing slightly with nineteen-year-old bravado.
"Just in case you're not, you cock-of-the-walk git, you'd better undress me."
Draco knew when to follow a direct order.
Taking his wand, he gave Ginny a clear 'let me take care of this' look and cast three spells in succession. After cushioning the floor, he summoned blankets and pillows plus locked the door with a complex locking charm that he assured her was one of his father's best.
The tone of the evening considerably lightened and she giggled at his manly display of magic.
"You know, I think we're steadily knocking down places in which to have sex," she said, testing the newly cushioned floor. Draco frowned, but only for a moment. Her comment was correct, but he was a bit discomfited at the casual way she referred to their sensual explorations. Though he knew she placed a great value on their relationship, it rankled that she didn't say "making love." Of course, he'd never referred to it as such when they spoke.
He was drawn out of his dour musings as she bounced happily on the floor in front of him.
"You'd better not be starting without me," he said warningly, removing her hands from the zipper of her jeans. "That's mine and you know it."
"I don't know what you're on about, sitting there looking forlorn. Who's to blame a girl for taking things into her own hands?" she giggled, helping him ease the form-fitting denim off her hips.
"I was not looking forlorn!" he protested as he stroked her hips through the silk of her knickers. "I was merely pondering what I should do to you first." She laughed at his obvious lie, not caring that he'd told it.
"Fine," she said, her slender fingers working on the ridiculous, but sexy button fly of his trousers. "You keep thinking on that."
Piece by piece, clothing came off and was discarded in a growing pile to their side. Ginny was suddenly drawn to Draco's heat like a moth, drawing his body against hers in an embrace.
"I like the way we fit together," she remarked frankly. "Everything just feels perfect."
And it was perfect, Draco thought, stealing a glace at their twined bodies. Though he was long and lean-limbed, her compact, curvy body seemed to mold his just so. Her high, rounded breasts pressed against his chest, even with his heart. Cradles of hips met seamlessly, allowing him to easily raise her shapely leg and enter her, or throw his leg over hers as they slept. It was altogether blissful when they enjoyed one another's bodies. Draco suspected perhaps she had been made just for him.
"I do too," he said, thinking it a pathetic excuse to such a succinct comment.
"You have such a way with words," she laughed, taking his earlobe into her mouth.
"I'm hardly ever, uh, hardly ever -stop that!-speechless," he said, feeling her dainty teeth scraping over the soft flesh in a teasing way.
"But it doesn't take much," she mumbled in his ear before tracing it with her tongue. He was content to let her lick his ear, because, truth be known, it made him shiver delightfully. But when her hand reached down to wrap around his already throbbing member, he thought distractedly that a witch shouldn't have that type of coordination.
She soon abandoned his ear for his mouth, kissing him softly. She was having a rough time concentrating on what felt better: kissing his hot, heady mouth or holding his glorious hardness in the palm of her hand.
She decided she'd better get down to that beautiful cock before her hands went too far. Slipping from his embrace, she slithered down his body and stalked him on all fours, moving between his legs to take him into her mouth.
He moaned throatily when she first touched him, swept away in the sensations that coursed through his body. It wasn't until the distinct scent of her sex reached his nose did he realize she was just as aroused as he.
"Get on top of me," he whispered, disengaging her mouth. She regarded him sharply, not happy to just hop on and shag meaninglessly.
"I'd like a little more time down here, if you don't mind," she retorted.
"You'll get your time, just straddle my chest and do it from there," he gasped as her tongue traced his weeping slit.
"Fine," she said, not seeing why this was necessary. Crawling up beside him, she gingerly straddled his chest, leaning down to his member once again.
Draco was presented with an excellent view of her pouting folds. The heat rolled off her in waves, and he caught sight of a single glistening trail running down her thigh. He let his hands play about her knees where they rested hear his elbows, watching her flesh and listening to her ecstatic moans as she took down his erection.
When he could take it no more, he swept her knees out from under her, pulling her hips toward his face. The vibrating moan she made as he buried his tongue in her entrance buzzed his cock, making him swell even larger in her accommodating mouth.
She felt him smile on her. The dual sensations of his velvet-sheathed hardness touching her tongue and cheeks were powerful as his fingers and tongue straining to reach every crevice of her. Unable to curb the rocking motion that his questing tongue wrought from her, she fought to concentrate on the task at hand.
As he reveled in the taste and texture of her, her powerful lips and tongue made the muscles of his thighs bunch and release from the tension she was building in him. He felt a strong climax beginning at the base of his spine and knew he wouldn't last much longer. Intent on bringing Ginny with him, he began to work her over assiduously, thrusting into her with crooked fingers, bumping her clit softly with his nose as he licked at the bottom of it.
Ginny could barely see straight; her mind furiously trying to sort out sensations. Draco's ministrations threatened to bring her over the edge before him. She fitted her mouth and tongue more tightly around him, guaranteeing that she would bring forth his essence.
Breathless moans spurred them on, both tasting, touching and teasing frantically to bring their lover to a bone-melting completion. Pleasure arced through Draco as Ginny made a particularly hard, but loving pull on his member, and he knew he was only seconds from spilling into her mouth. A scant moment later, he drew his fingers over the small nub inside her while tending lustily to the one outside. Ginny's moaned release pushed Draco into the abyss as his seed shot forth. He tasted the sweet rain of her desire and let his head fall back, panting.
Lying atop Draco's heaving chest was quite interesting for Ginny. His sharply indrawn breaths lifted her incrementally and she resisted the urge to bounce on him as she had the cushiony floor.
"Are you all right?" she asked finally, throwing him a saucy grin over her shoulder. He raised his head, peering past the curve of her buttocks.
"I'm fine. Come here and hold me," he said. Ginny nearly laughed. He was the one who loved to cuddle, and his demand merely served to cover the fact that he could hardly keep his hands off her. Rolling haphazardly off him, she twisted and came to rest in his sweaty embrace.
Nosing his chest, she licked the salt from him.
"Someone got hot and bothered," she smirked, kissing him and tasting herself.
"And I suppose you were a cold fish up there, writhing on top," he drawled disdainfully, wrinkling his nose.
She sighed happily and spent a few minutes silent in his arms.
"Draco, may I tell you something?" she asked tentatively, loath to say anything that might disturb their idyll.
"You know you'd tell me anyhow, whether I said yes or not," came the response. He earned a punch in the shoulder for his trouble and she wriggled up so she could be at eye level with him.
"Do you realize that we've been seeing each other for about a year and a half now, and I barely know anything about you?"
He quirked his eyebrow, but his expression was genuinely puzzled.
"What's there to know about me?" he asked. "My father's an evil bastard, my mother is in St. Mungo's, and I spy for the good side. There's honestly not much more than that."
"Oh, come on. You have to have some fond memories of something. Your mother, surely. Please tell me you at least have that," Ginny pleaded, her brown eyes soft.
His inwardly contemplative expression nearly broke her. Wanting to cry for her beautiful companion, she hid her face in the crook of his shoulder, fearing he had nothing to say.
"I guess I do remember some times with Mum, just the two of us. She's got these lovely gardens, Ginny, you would go round the bend with all the colors and scents. She was rather clever with her hands, and when I was young and Father was away, she would twist flowers into a crown and put them on me. She told me I was her Sun Prince, that no one was fairer than me."
Forgetting Ginny's presence and her dripping tears on his hot, bare skin, he barreled on.
"Once in a great while, she ordered all the house elves to leave the kitchen. She only knew how to make one thing. Her grandmother taught her how to make chocolate chip cookies, and she would bake them for me magically. I was always impressed by how fast she could make them warm and chewy," he said, nearly trailing off, but beginning again.
"I guess that was what gave me my sweet tooth. When I left for Hogwarts, Mum always took her weekly pocket money from Father and used it to send me sweets from Honeydukes. Sometimes she was able to enclose a note, but I suspect that Father found out and punished her for it. He always thought I was weak, that I needed to be more of a man. His idea of being a man was bullying my mother. I never saw it, never heard it, but I knew it happened. I hated Father for all he had done and for all that I didn't know about."
"And of course all of wizarding Britain knew when Mum went to St. Mungo's. Suddenly, I was even more sinister, because how could a boy with no mother have any redeeming qualities at all? I swear, Gin, after this war is over, I'm going to get her out of that blasted hospital. I just know it all has to do with my father. Once he's gone, she'll be back to normal, I'm convinced."
For a few moments, maybe less, he entertained a vision of his mother meeting Ginny and welcoming her into Malfoy Manor to see the brilliant blooming gardens.
As quickly as the image came, it was shattered by the shaking body of his princess.
"Gin, what's wrong?" he questioned, turning her face up. Though it was tearstained, she smiled wanly at him.
"I'm proud to be with you, Draco." Her next words were so soft that he nearly missed them. "And I'm honored that you're with me."
The misty pride in her eyes humbled him. But as much as he wished to bask in her adoration, he couldn't let her get more serious. Couldn't let the moment be more serious, lest they lose the playful momentum that always drove them.
"I didn't tell you all that for you to feel sorry for me, love," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I just wanted to answer your question." She nodded, then smiled.
"I suppose that when you ask someone to tell you about themselves, you get the good and the bad."
"You're absolutely right," he mused, running fingertips over her nipples, making them stand in hard peaks. "You should tell me all about yourself."
She sighed musically as his fingers plucked her delicately.
"I used to pretend the gnomes in the garden were my babies," she admitted shyly, interspersing her speech with small gasps and moans. "Ron would put them in our old pram and I would wheel them around until they jumped out."
Draco's laugh started out quietly, nearly suppressed, but the image of a young Ginny pushing about foul-tempered gnomes was too much for him. He guffawed until he was gasping for breath.
"And I guess you were the perfect child? Somehow I see you pulling the wings off butterflies!" she retorted indignantly.
"Certainly not. Mum would have thrown a fit. She taught me how to draw and I often sat by the garden - the de-gnomed garden - and drew the flowers," he said, tickling the slight swell of her belly.
"Do you always have to distract me?" she grumbled, licking his nipple. "I loved to play in the mud. Mum would scream bloody murder, but Bill enchanted my little mud puddle to stay wet all year. She never figured it out," Ginny giggled, feeling her temperature rise as Draco kissed the line of her neck.
"Hmmm. How much would it take to convince you to get all muddy for me so I could wash it off?" Draco wondered aloud, thinking a muddy, adult Ginny was an erotic proposition.
She wiggled her finger in his navel to get his attention.
"Earth to Draco," she called. "Certainly more money that even you have," she said lazily, grinning lopsidedly.
"And I do have quite a bit of money," Draco said. "Are you sure I don't have enough for that?"
Any further thoughts on the subject became blurry as Ginny stroked his sac softly enough to distract him.
"Don't mind me," she said innocently. "I was just about to tell you exactly what I was picturing when you found me in the shower during the explosion at Hogwarts."
Draco's eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He'd always wanted to know that.
"And, uh, what was that, exactly?" he managed, trying not to moan as Ginny's questing fingers massaged his nether region. Before she spoke, he prodded her gently to make her turn a bit so he could touch her between her legs.
"Well, actually," she said, drawing in an excited breath as Draco's thumb skimmed her swollen clit, "it sort of ended up happening, in pieces." His tongue touched her ear, licking slowly.
"Go on."
"I was fantasizing that you would come to my room, late at night, and, ah, take me and I wouldn't know it was you until later, until you sidled up beside me in the halls and asked if I missed the knickers you'd peeled off me that night."
Draco groaned into her ear, unable to speak for a moment.
"You really were getting yourself off thinking about me, about that?" he whispered intently. He felt her nod her head as her hand squeezed him gently.
Knowing he could not quench the fire that slithered through his veins any other way, he reached down and pulled Ginny atop him.
In the next second, she was impaled upon him; he saw whatever words were on her lips died in a silent O.
The siren's smile that graced her lips grew as she spread her legs further apart and found him completely and unequivocally buried within her. She clenched her muscles around him before she spoke.
"You're not getting off the hook that easily," she breathed, eyes wide. A roll of his hips had her panting softly. "We're still asking questions. What's your middle name?"
He gave her one of his rare grins.
"Draco Black Malfoy, and don't you forget it," he said proudly, lifting her hips easily and setting their pace. "What's yours?"
"Nothing quite so storied," she said, her words punctuated by his thrusts. "Virginia Elizabeth-Anne Weasley."
"How hoity-toity of you," he laughed, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Two middle names, no less."
"My grandmothers, you git," she said, working on seating him to the hilt each time he lowered her. "Ever have a pet?" she breathed, trying to keep her voice steady.
"My mum had a cat when I was younger," he gasped, feeling her muscles tightening around him. "You?"
"Puffskein. Twins used it for Bludger practice." She paused and spoke unthinkingly. Who could think while being touched so deeply inside it made her shudder?
"We should get a pet," Ginny said, hair flying around her like a nimbus, breasts heaving.
We. Us. Together. The implications of her words hit Draco full-force and spurred him on.
Draco flipped their positions then, and Ginny squeaked when the head of his member touched her cervix. He thrust almost roughly, getting her attention.
"Draco, what-" she began, but the wild look in his eyes silenced her.
"I want to do the binding spell, Ginny, please, bind with me," he pleaded; his tone a shade above wheedling and liberally splashed with need.
The binding spell was an ancient one; old, powerful magic. Those who wished to bind only had to repeat "I am yours, and you are mine" to one another three times. The deep, mystical powers of the spell often enhanced partners' perception of one another, and truly committed couples could sometimes communicate mentally. In the wizarding community it was often used to arrange marriages, because the bound pair would always share a deep, underlying link with one another even if they rebelled, marrying another partner. If an act of true love was committed by one for the other, the bond could grow incrementally. The bond was only broken when one of the pair died or when it was formally dissolved by the Wizengamot.
Overwhelming emotions surged through her mind. She knew it wasn't a marriage proposition, or even an outright declaration of love. But she took it as it was meant: the only way he could display his bond with her and still release her should he die in the war.
"Yes," she said finally, glistening tears of happiness gathering at the corners of her eyes.
"Say it, Gin. Say you want to bind with me. I have to hear you say it," he said, taking long, deep strokes of her, feeling her slick walls trying desperately to keep him within.
"I want to bind with you, Draco, with all my heart."
She thought she saw tears forming in his pale gray eyes, too. When his purposeful thrusts dislodged some to land on her stomach, she knew this would be the most powerful event in her life.
He hunkered down atop her, pulling her to him, kissing her soundly.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly, feeling her muscles contracting along his length and knowing it wouldn't be long before both of them exploded. She nodded, sealing it with a kiss.
Pulling back so he could look directly into her cinnamon eyes, he began to chant rhythmically in a low, husky voice.
"I am yours, and you are mine. I am yours, and you are mine. I am yours, and you are mine," he said emphatically. He leaned down, kissed her once, and Ginny's smile wobbled with tears and Draco's strokes.
"I am yours, and you are mine. I am yours, and you are mine. I am yours, and you are mine," she said clearly, just as forcefully. The light in his eyes changed, and moved his lips as if to speak. He was cut off by a sudden, small explosion of red sparks between them. When the smoke and their heads cleared, Draco was the first to notice the centimeter-wide red hearts over both of their own.
They were bound.