sekkoon

CHAPTER 20

One Step Too Far

It took a while before Draco and Ginny could move in to their new home. The papers took longer than Bootle had expected to be finalised, and when it came to deciding upon furnishings it was nearly impossible for Draco and Ginny to agree. They had very different tastes in colour it seemed. However, the couple did finally settle into their new home; even if Ginny still could not admire the seats in the living room, and Draco could only look with resignation at the table and chairs his wife had chosen for their dining room.

Preferences of furniture aside, the couple were very happy together and more than content with their new situation. Breaking away from Malfoy manor had been the best thing for them, and for Ginny it was just what she had needed to comfortably settle into being married to Draco. There was no Narcissa to nag at her, no Alexia to tell tales and be spiteful, no Armande to make crude jokes—though Ginny did find herself missing the cheeky Malfoy, despite all that—and for the first time in a long time she could just relax and not worry about what others were thinking or expecting of her.

Her eyes shifted from her book to her husband’s reclining form on the seat opposite her own. He had already discarded the book he had been reading some time ago, and was now lying fully stretched out on the long couch; the afternoon sun creeping in through the large glass windows to give a gentle glow to his handsome features.

She could tell by his closed eyes and peaceful expression that he was either asleep or soon would be. No doubt he was tired from all the business meetings he had had to go to over the past few days. Bootle certainly had kept him busy.

Ginny smiled fondly to herself. He always looked so adorable when he slept. There was something so endearing about his softened, unguarded features. Perhaps it was simply because he never seemed to show such gentle tranquillity when he was awake. There was always something to disturb the peace—a lot of that her fault—but at least this moment was perfectly calm.

It surprised her somewhat. Very rarely did they share each other’s company in such a peaceful way. The silence should have been enough to put her on edge, but she wasn’t feeling discomforted by it at all. She felt oddly relaxed and could not pinpoint any awkwardness in the aura surrounding them. Everything was comfortable, as if this was the way things were just meant to be—the two of them spending time together, no matter how simple that time was.

A clock chimed on the mantelpiece. Ginny blinked, glancing at the old clock briefly, and was surprised to find that the time was considerably more advanced than she had thought.

“What time is it?” asked Draco groggily, sitting up from the seat to look at her through grey eyes heavy with sleep.

“Seven o’clock.”

Draco nodded and stood up from the chair, stretching slightly to ease his muscles. “I’ll go tell Tooky to get the dinner ready.”

Tooky was their new house elf. She was a rather quiet little elf, and had much better manners than Binky, who was a little too pushy and nosy for Ginny’s likings. It seemed that she had once worked at Hogwarts, and so tended to stick by the rule of staying out of sight unless called. This suited Draco and Ginny just fine.

Ginny smiled up at him. “There’s no need; I already did it. I was getting hungry,” she added for explanation.

“Oh.” He smothered a yawn and then sat back down on the seat. “What are we having?”

“Lasagne.”

“Good choice.”

Ginny beamed with simple pride. For some reason she felt insanely happy that he was pleased with her choice.

Draco leaned back against the seat and let out a deep breath. He really did look tired, if a little worn out. That Bootle had been working him far too hard with those silly business meetings. What they were about she had no idea. Actually, when she thought about it, she really did have no idea what it was Draco did. He looked after his father’s business—that she knew—but what was that business?

She guessed it didn’t really matter. It was probably something tedious anyway. All excessively rich people usually did something tedious for their job; like making quills or something.

Tooky then came in to announce that dinner was ready. Ginny placed her book down on the seat beside her, admitting that she didn’t think she could have waited any longer for dinner, she was so famished, and then walked with her husband to the dining hall. They situated themselves on either side of the table and commenced in enjoying a very hearty meal together.

“Daphne has invited me to a little gathering of hers tomorrow,” said Ginny, suddenly remembering her prospected engagement. “You don’t mind if I go, do you?”

Draco seemed surprised that he was even being asked for permission.

“I don’t mind, though I can’t see how you could want to go. If there was ever a more sillier female, it’s Daphne Greengrass. Five minutes in her company is enough to drive any person of sense insane.”

Ginny laughed, her ready sense of humour tickled by the truth of this. “Oh, I don’t deny she’s as stupid as they come, but there’s not an ounce of harm in her. Besides, she was the first of your friends to be nice to me—apart from Theodore, of course, but he’s not a female—and so I can only be grateful to her. You can’t know how uncomfortable it is to be an object of scorn in every female’s eyes.”

“Daphne is not my friend. She’s merely an acquaintance that is impossible to get rid of, and you don’t need her friendship to give you credit in other people’s eyes.”

“No, but I should like it all the same. I know she’s a fickle thing, but you’re a man, Draco, and you’ve lived in this society your whole life. You don’t understand my position. It’s very different for females, I can assure you. Men are always so much more accepting.”

Draco merely shrugged. “Do what you wish, it makes no difference to me. I’m merely surprised at your asking me at all. You don’t seem like the type to want permission to do anything.”

Ginny let out a gurgle of laughter at that. “I’m not, but I thought it would be polite to at least let you know what I was going to do in case you had already planned something for us.”

“How thoughtful of you,” remarked Draco with an amused smile, “But I haven’t planned anything.”

“Well I guess that settles that then. Pass me the salt, would you?”

Draco obliged, though teased her on her shocking table manners. Ginny merely gave him a saucy smile and said that she did not stand on ceremony with him.

“That’s the privilege of being my husband, you see,” she continued, her eyes twinkling; “you get to see all sides to my character, even my less than desirable table manners.”

“I suppose I should count myself fortunate.”

“You should. You could hardly want me to call you, My Lord, and treat you with cool civility like Titiana Maplewood treats her husband. He calls her an iceberg, which I cannot think to be a very nice thing to say about one’s wife, but you cannot deny that she’s shockingly reserved and is such a tiresomely moral creature. To think, she actually said to me that falling in love was something only vulgar people do!”

Draco smiled at her indignation. “I take it Mrs Maplewood’s sentiments do not agree with your tastes?”

“No indeed! To call love vulgar is the most blasphemous thing I have ever heard in my life. Love,” Ginny declared simply, “is what makes life worth living for.”

“I see I’ve married a romantic.”

Ginny blushed faintly and fiddled with the fork on her plate. “I daresay to you it sounds silly, but I—”

“Not at all.”

She glanced up at him in surprise, not having taken him as a man who cared much for romantic notions. “Oh?”

He took a sip of his drink, his expression pensive. “Purebloods of my station have never put much stock in love, but I’ve seen marriages founded on love and I’ve seen what happens when they aren’t. Though I may not go so far as to say that love is what makes life living for, I do agree that it is important to one’s happiness.”

“And yet you agreed to a loveless marriage?”

Draco gave her a swift, searching glance. “Yes,” he said finally, “I did.”

“Do you regret it?”

The question was a bold one, and it took a moment for Draco to reply. He steadily regarded her through his calm grey eyes, as if deciding whether she even deserved to be answered, and then said simply: “No, Ginevra, I do not regret it.”

Ginny’s brow puckered up into a frown. She wasn’t really sure what she had been expecting him to answer (having asked the question merely out of an insatiable curiosity) but his reply had left her feeling a trifle confused.

She should be satisfied that he did not regret marrying her, but then he had agreed that he had gone into this marriage knowing it to be a loveless one right after also confessing that he thought love imperative to a happy marriage. That only left her with more questions than answers, and she could only stare at her husband searchingly, wondering just how cryptic that remark had been.

As the only answer she could come up was so improbable that it had might as well have been a mere conjecture of fantasy, she decided not to refine too much upon his words—or at least tried not to—and decided to change the subject.

“Theodore is a good friend of yours, is he not?”

Draco nodded, unruffled by this abrupt change of conversation.

“Then you must know about his desire to marry Kitty?”

“He has said something along those lines to me, yes.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think,” responded her husband deliberately, “that it is none of our business.”

“But he’s your friend! Surely you must care about his well-being and happiness!”

Draco placed down his knife and fork and stared at her frankly. “I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no. I am not going to help you match-make them together.”

Ginny could not be satisfied with this, and in the all-important act of selecting one of the delectable treats laid aside for her by the thoughtful Tooky, proceeded to tell him as much. Draco was not moved; apparently he could be as obstinate as she was in cases like this.

“Well I think it is very disagreeable of you,” said his wife unreasonably (for it could not be said that she would ever understand why a gentleman would have no desire to help match-make his friend). “You must see how well they would suit. She has just the right amount of liveliness to lighten that serious disposition of his, and he has more than enough sense to calm her own silliness down. It’s a perfect match!”

“Except, of course, that your friend has no wish to marry him,” responded Draco with ruthless candidness. “I am not a woman, Ginevra; I am not going to get excited about helping my friend marry the girl of his desires when it appears that it will involve a lot of unnecessary exertion on my part. Theodore can love Katherine Cunningham all he likes, but whether she takes him or not is no concern of mine.”

His wife seemed much put out by this rational if not blunt reply, but she was not one to give up at the first obstacle in her path. She was determined to help her friends, and equally determined to have her husband help her do it.

“Well it will make it much easier for me if you did,” she continued obstinately, “for I have already decided that I will help them. I just need an excuse to throw them together more, and you must see, Draco, that I can hardly be inviting Theodore everywhere when it is just Kitty and I. That is where I need you. You can invite him to come with us—you know, like a double date sort of thing.”

Draco eyed her with a mixture of amusement and disdain. “You must have some very odd notions of me if you think I am going to invite Theodore on a double date, as you so eloquently put it. I will do no such thing.”

But three days later Draco was seen to be doing just that. How his wife had managed to bring him around her thumb was a matter entirely up for speculation. His cousin was inclined to believe that Draco had merely grown tired of his wife’s cajoling ways and had hoped to silence her on the matter by agreeing to her wishes. Others (namely his wife) believed he had merely suffered a change of heart and had seen the good sense in her scheme.

Whether Armande or Ginny was right, it was true that Draco had relented his decision to not help Kitty and Theodore, and had cordially invited his friend (who naturally accepted) to see a play being shown at the theatre that night; a venue chosen for its casualness, as well as its ability to leave two people alone without causing suspicion.

“For I do not mean to waste this opportunity,” said Ginny seriously, when discussing the project with her husband. “Sometimes you have to be ruthless to be kind, and I have no doubt that if we stay with them the whole time, not a single word will be exchanged between them.”

Draco could only laugh at this, but upon being asked what was so funny he merely shook his head, a small smile lingering on his lips.

The truth was, of course, that she had just reminded him forcibly of his own mother—who lived by the motto that ruthless kindness was the only way to ensure perfect results—and was much struck by the irony of it all. As if living with a woman like that for most of his life was not enough, he had to go and marry one.

His wife, upon learning that Theodore had accepted, duly rewarded her husband for his efforts by being in the sunniest of moods and promising never to bother him again with such matters. Draco was not foolish enough to believe her, having already gathered what his wife was like, and merely suggested she not make empty promises.

Ginny laughed at this, knowing it to be true, and then began to make plans on what they could do to allow their friends a chance to gain a deeper understanding with each other.

“For you must know,” said his wife frankly, as they were getting ready for the play later that night, “Kitty is terribly intimidated by him. We have to find a way to make her realise that he is not the terrifying ogre she thinks him. I’ve already laid some foundations, but perhaps you can help there?”

Her much amused husband then pointed out that Kitty was far more likely to be intimidated by himself than she was Theodore; being that he didn’t think he had spoken so much as a word to her in his life.

Ginny had to admit that he had a point there.

“Oh well,” she said brightly. “I daresay we’ll manage well enough. She has to get used to you anyway; she’s one of my best friends, and I will not have her being frightened of my husband.”

Draco then said that her friend sounded like just the sort of stupid female he couldn’t help but dislike. “I don’t know what Theodore sees in her,” he confessed with a sardonic curl of his lip. “She’s nothing but a pretty featherhead with too much sensibility and not enough sense. Scared of me indeed; and what can I do that should alarm her so much?”

Ginny’s lips twitched. “It’s not what you can do, it’s just you. You’re powerful in society, quite above her touch when one considers the matter, but I do believe she is more terrified of the piercing looks you give her than anything else. You have a very disconcerting way of staring at people, did you know that?”

Her husband then levelled that singularly disconcerting gaze upon her, a somewhat amused smile playing on his lips. “Do I now? It’s never seemed to bother you.”

“No,” agreed his wife, unruffled, “But then I’m made of much sterner stuff than my friend. I’m not scared of you, Draco, and I never have been.”

“Thank Merlin for that. I would not like you half as much if you were.”

“Yes you would,” responded his wife laughingly, “because I would not argue with you, or do things that you would not like for fear that you would give me one of your infamous Malfoy glares! I wonder you did not think to find yourself a submissive wife. It would suit your autocratic temper quite nicely.”

“Timid mice are not at all to my tastes. Just think how tedious it would be to never get that spice of opposition once in a while. You, I know, would not want your husband to always let you get your own way.”

“No,” agreed Ginny, much struck by this presentation. “I would think him horribly weak!”

“Just as I would find a submissive wife insipidly boring.” He thought about the matter a moment and added: “Not to mention beyond irritating.”

Ginny’s dimple suddenly peeped up, a saucy smile coming to her lips. “Well then, next time I find a reason to argue with you, you can remember that you wanted the spice of opposition and can take it in good part.”

“Ah, but aren’t you forgetting that you didn’t want a complaisant husband?” reminded Draco, returning her smile with a teasing one of his own. “It wouldn’t do for me to disappoint you, now would it?”

“You’re impossible,” his wife declared, though her eyes twinkled in amusement.

“And you are an incorrigible nuisance to my peace, but since I have already exerted myself on your behalf, there is nothing for it but to see this scheme of yours to the end. Which reminds me, what have you decided to do to ensure the success of tonight?”

“I won’t be entirely sure until we get there,” said Ginny with a small shrug, “but we must leave them alone at least for a little while. I’m sure we can contrive to come up with some excuse to leave the box.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, relaxing very much at his ease against the wall of their bedroom, “but do you honestly think that will do anything?”

She sighed. “If it doesn’t I shall have to contrive some other way to bring them together. Either way I am determined that Theodore will marry Kitty. The silly goose just needs to get it into her head that he’s perfect for her.”

“Silly goose is certainly an apt description, but I still don’t see why you care so much. You’d be much better applying your time to something else.”

“I care because Kitty and Theodore are both my friends and it pains me to see them so unhappy,” responded his wife simply. “As for applying my time to something else—no indeed; I haven’t had this much fun in years!”

Draco could only sigh in resignation. He doubted he would ever understand why females took so much delight in setting up other people’s romances. It seemed entirely unnecessary in his eyes. Even his own mother had that taint of the romantic busy body inside her, having taken it upon herself to choose him a wife—or rather hint rather unsubtly whom she would prefer him to choose.

Yes, but you can’t complain about that, now can you? His mind reminded him slyly.

He doubted he would ever have considered Ginny as anything more than a nuisance to his peace (not that she still wasn’t) before his mother had diverted his attention to the vivacious redhead.

It was his pride that had stopped him. He had been too proud, refusing to believe that there was a reason for why Ginny nagged at his brain so much, and consequently deluded himself into believing up all kinds of ridiculous explanations to make sense of his odd, if somewhat irrational, thoughts and feelings. Now, however, after so many months of being forced into her company, and so many weeks afterwards of being married to her, he realised that he cared about her far more than he could ever have expected or wished to.

She had somehow wormed herself into his previously untouched heart and had firmly established herself in its erratic beats and songs. When she smiled, his heart responded in kind; when she was in pain, his heart felt her pain too; and when she touched him, however innocently, that beating organ would rush with an unexplainable nervousness—not out of discomfort, but from a burst of excited anticipation.

He couldn’t understand it, didn’t even know if he wanted to understand it, but for all his confusion, frustration and hopelessness, he knew without a doubt that she was precious to him. He did not even want to begin to imagine what life would be like if he had not married her. The thought was literally frightening.

His grey eyes rested on his wife. She was leaning close to the mirror and expertly applying lipstick to her pretty lips, but upon noticing his contemplative gaze, her roguish dimple peeped out and her eyes, always expressive, began to dance.

“Yes? Would you like to wear some lipstick too?”

A wry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I can only think of one way I will ever allow you to put even a smudge of lipstick on me, and since that is a highly improbable event, no, Ginevra, I do not want to wear your lipstick.”

Ginny chuckled slightly and stepped away from the mirror. “Improbable because you believe I will not do it?”

“I don’t believe, I know you would not do it.”

She moved closer to him with a mischievous smile playing on her lips and her eyes dancing more playfully than ever. Draco watched her progress a little warily, knowing from the warning signs that she was brewing mischief, though he did not move from his lazy position against the wall.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” refuted his wife, stopping directly before him. “You should know that I have an incurable dislike of people deciding how I am to behave; it makes me quite want to do the opposite. Besides,” she leaned forward on her tiptoes and met his eyes briefly, her mischievous smile becoming even more pronounced, “I wouldn’t miss the opportunity of seeing you wear lipstick for the world.”

And with that teasing rejoinder, she closed what little distance was left between them and pressed her lips firmly against his.

Draco had known what she was going to do from the moment she had leant up on her tiptoes, but that still did not take away the initial shock of feeling her soft lips, slightly silky from the lipstick, interlocked with his own. His heart, which had quickened only slightly when she had moved closer, now drummed loudly against his chest, and it took all of his self-control to remain perfectly still and not respond to the warm pressure of her silky lips as he had instinctively wanted to do.

Slowly Ginny pulled her lips away, her laughing eyes catching his for a moment as she lowered herself back to her normal height. “Ah, the picture was all that I thought it would be,” she observed mock-seriously, “Though I don’t think that particular shade suits your pallor.”

Her husband, not at all amused, merely wiped the smudges of lipstick from his mouth with a scowl. Not only did his pride feel severely wounded right now, but he also found himself in a very awkward position. Kisses, no matter how harmlessly they may have been bestowed, naturally had an undesirable impact over his emotions. Ginny was off-limits to him, and he was not impressed by her thoughtlessness in tempting him in such a way. He was just a man, after all, and was not made of stone.

“You’re a shameless flirt, you know that?” he muttered grumpily; pushing past her to escape the seductively close proximity they were positioned in.

“Why Draco, surely you aren’t accusing me of flirting with you?” asked Ginny in her most innocent voice.

“You know very well you are,” he snapped shortly, not in the mood for her games.

An infectious gurgle of laughter broke free from her lips. “Other men usually take it in good part, you know? They like it when a woman flirts with them.”

He stared at her hard. “Don’t you care that you’ve been flirting with me? You do remember who I am, right?”

“Yes, Draco, I do remember who you are,” responded Ginny with another laugh, “but what can I do? I don’t realise I’m doing it; it just sort of happens. I can assure you that I did not mean to flirt with you, and I will try not to do so again, but I just get so carried away…”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re also going to claim that you did not mean to kiss me but that it just happened,” retorted her husband sarcastically.

“Not at all. I did that quite intentionally.”

“What?”

“But, Draco!” cried his wife in mock-surprise, “You said yourself that there was only one way you would ever let me put lipstick on you. You must see that I had no other choice. How else was I going to achieve my great ambition?”

“I didn’t expect you’d actually do it,” he expostulated, quite put out.

“I know,” grinned his wife, completely unrepentant. “That was why I did it. The temptation to see you so stunned was just too much to resist.”

“You have no decency at all,” responded her husband severely.

“Now that is unjust. I have a lot of decency.” She began walking away, stopped, and then threw him another of her saucy smiles over her shoulder. “Just not when I’m around you.”

Once again finding himself completely at a loss for words, Draco could only glower at her retreating back; his mind pleasantly finding solace in calling her a lot of colourful names, including a brazen minx.

She was becoming a right handful, and not for the first time did he wonder why it was he was so attached to her. She really was a shocking flirt, though, when he considered the matter, he supposed it didn’t really matter if she was flirting with him. Now if it were other men she was flirting with, he would definitely have something to say about that…

“Are you coming to the theatre with me, or do you plan to stand there glaring at me like some angry waxwork?”

Draco blinked, mumbled something she might have taken as an apology, and followed her out of the house.

OOOO

The little quartet that gathered at the theatre that night could not have been said to be the most comfortable party to be a part of. Theodore, though madly in love with Kitty, was not the most expressive of fellows and could not find the words to put his love at ease; Kitty, though curious about the moody gentleman thanks to Ginny’s sly intervention at the ball, was still feeling very uncomfortable by his presence; and Draco, having tried to be polite to Kitty for his wife and friend’s sake, soon fell to the more tempting pastime of amusing himself at her expense.

Ginny found herself getting increasingly frustrated with all of them, but it was Draco who received the brunt of her ire; she taking the first opportunity once the curtain had lifted and distracted their companions’ attention to pinch his arm and whisper fiercely in his ear: “Stop being such a prat and leave Kitty alone!”

“But I’m not doing anything,” he whispered back, an annoying smirk flittering across his lips. “In fact I have been behaving with the utmost politeness towards her.”

“You’ve been mocking her this whole time, and you know it!”

“Yes, but does she?”

Ginny pursed her lips reprovingly. “That is my friend you’re talking about.”

“I know, and I find her charmingly stupid.”

Seeing that his wife was about to get very angry, he placed a calming hand on her shoulder and met her eyes steadily, if a little apologetically. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I won’t tease her anymore, but you know it’s almost impossible not to. She’s quite ridiculous.”

“Kitty may not be an intellectual, but you will not find a nicer girl in this stupid place. Besides, even if she may not be able to recognise that you’re secretly laughing at her, Theodore has, and I can assure you that he is not happy with you.”

“That’s his problem for falling in love with a featherhead.”

“Draco!” growled Ginny warningly.

He smiled disarmingly and removed his hand from her shoulder. “Now, Ginny, you don’t want them to notice that we’re arguing, do you? I think even the featherhead might notice that.”

She glared at him, choked at the absurdly priggish expression on his face, and then fell into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Draco smiled to himself, rather pleased that he had managed to get her back into a good humour and avoid anymore of her scolds, and thoughtfully patted her back to help her breathe better.

“Careful, Ginny; you’ll have all the old ladies glaring at you in a minute if you don’t quieten down.”

“It’s all your fault,” his wife choked out between gasps. “You looked so ridiculous!”

“Is everything alright?” asked Theodore, staring at the two in surprise. The play was not exactly the most humorous of tales, which naturally made Ginny’s giggling quite out of place.

Draco nodded. “We’re fine, or at least Ginny will be once she stops laughing.”

“What was so funny?” asked Kitty curiously.

Ginny and Draco exchanged amused glances, smiled, and then turned back to their two companions.

“It was nothing, really,” said Ginny carelessly. “You wouldn’t get it if we told you. It was one of those ‘you have to be there to find it funny’ things.”

“Oh, okay.”

The four fell silent once more and continued to watch the play, though truth be told Ginny found it rather tedious. The acting was quite terrible, and the spells they used for special effects were so shoddily done that it quite spoiled her enjoyment. She was glad when the first interval came.

Ginny glanced towards Theodore and Kitty—who had been ruthlessly seated cosily next to each other by her own machinations—and felt that nagging frustration creep through her. They had barely spoken to each other the whole time, and though it was not really expected that people should talk to each other during plays, she had hoped they would at least try to converse more with each other during the interval.

This was expecting too much of them it seemed. Theodore was of a naturally taciturn disposition, and though he did make some comments to Kitty, it was clear that she was still feeling too uncomfortable to do much more than mumble monosyllabic answers.

It was enough to put Ginny out of all patience with the both of them; for such a spirited woman could hardly be expected to understand why some people found it difficult to converse with others in such situations. She and Draco, after all, had usually resorted to heated arguments when all else failed.

Determined more than ever to find a way to leave the two alone in the box and force them to talk to each other, Ginny suddenly claimed that she was feeling faint and instantly desired her husband to take her out to get some fresh air. Kitty and Theodore both expressed their concern for her health, asking whether it would be better if she went home, as they could easily come see another play when she was not feeling so ill.

“No, no, I assure you that’s quite unnecessary,” said Ginny resolutely. “It’s just the heat, but I’ll be better once I have some fresh air.”

“Are you sure?” Theodore asked in his serious voice.

Ginny nodded. “Quite sure. I’m just not used to these stuffy rooms.” She cast her eyes to her husband and gave him a speaking glance. “Draco, will you accompany me?”

Draco stood up obediently from his chair and placed what appeared to be a supporting arm around his wife’s waist. “Of course.” He turned his gaze back to the other occupants of their box and gave them a small smile. “I’m sure it is just the heat, but if it is something more serious I shall of course take her home. Please do not allow our absence to spoil your enjoyment of the play. I’m sure Ginny would not wish that.”

Ginny immediately put in her agreement to this, hoping that they would not worry their heads over a troublesome creature like herself, and then allowed Draco to guide her out of the box.

“Well,” said Draco, prudently withdrawing his hand from her waist once they were safe from prying eyes, “You got your wish; they are now alone in the box, though what you can imagine that will do is beyond me.”

“Possibly nothing,” shrugged his wife, “but then it is also possible that they will try to talk to each other out of mere obligation. It is an interval, after all; they can’t just sit there in silence.”

“They might,” intoned her husband pessimistically.

Ginny peeped through the curtain to see what was happening back in the box. She was disappointed to see that both Theodore and Kitty were staring in opposite directions, clearly at a loss on what to say to each other.

“What are they doing?” Draco asked, coming to stand behind her so that he too could peer through the curtain.

Her heart gave a funny flutter in her chest at his sudden proximity but she firmly ignored the feeling. She had kissed him full on the mouth earlier; why should his proximity bother her now?

That was the way it always was though. If she initiated the act she usually felt nothing at all, but when he did something her volatile heart would start racing in that peculiar way she was beginning to feel so often when around him.

Turning her face slightly to look up at him, she merely sighed. “Nothing; they’re just sitting there.”

“Figures. Theo always was terrible with women.”

“And I suppose you’re just spectacular with them?”

“Not really,” he replied quite truthfully, “But then I’m not as bad as him. He really doesn’t have a clue at all.”

She smiled slightly and peered back through the curtain. “I think you’re right. He doesn’t seem to be doing too well right now that’s for sure.”

“Why? What’s he doing?”

“Still nothing. He’s staring at his hands, and she’s gazing blankly at the stage.”

“I don’t understand how you think this constitutes a perfect match. They clearly have nothing in common.”

“It’s true they don’t have much in common but they have enough to be happy with each other. It’s all a matter of finding the right balance. Once she gets over this absurd timidity you’ll see what I mean.”

“If she gets over it, that is,” piped in Draco with another of his gloomy statements.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her two friends. Draco, feeling rather curious himself, leaned over his wife’s shoulder and watched the spectacle unfolding from behind the curtain.

OOO

Kitty shifted uncomfortably and gave a sidelong glance at her companion. She wished Ginny and Draco would hurry up and come back. This was just too awkward. How could she possibly be expected to make small talk with a man that she knew wanted to marry her? It was bad enough having her parents declare that she was going to marry Theodore Nott when she had barely spoken above a dozen words with him, and then suffering the torture of being pushed into his company as often as her meddling parents could manage; let alone now having to face the double torture of being inflicted with his presence once again thanks to her friend being friends with him.

“Oh, I have no luck at all,” groaned Kitty to herself.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing,” replied Kitty hastily, her already rosy cheeks growing all the more rosier. She really had to watch this talking to herself habit. It was beginning to get quite embarrassing.

Theodore looked at her a little doubtfully and then relaxed back in his chair, all ready to once again fall into his silent stupor. Kitty began to feel increasingly annoyed.

If he loved her, as Ginny claimed he did, then why on earth didn’t he bother to try and talk to her more? Did he really expect her to like a silent statue that never showed the slightest trace of interest in her?

All she knew was that he wanted to marry her—without even asking her feelings on the matter, she might add—but not once had he ever hinted to her that he had any more love for her than he did for that garish pot plant resting beside her chair.

Her frustration deepened. Who did he think he was expecting her to marry him? He had nothing to recommend himself to her attention. He was not handsome, though she supposed there was something pleasant about his face; he did not flirt, laugh or joke with her like her other suitors did; he was far too serious for his own good; barely spoke above a word to anybody—in fact, he was so unlike every man she had shown interest in that it was a small wonder she had been so surprised and bothered to discover that he had hinted to her parents that he was contemplating marriage with her.

And yet she couldn’t deny that she was curious. Ever since the ball she had found herself thinking about the brooding gentleman far more than was seemly. It was like a new kind of torture, only this time self-inflicted. His face would flash before her eyes quite independently, and then she would wonder if it were really true what Ginny had said about him being in love with her, and a new wave of confusing emotions would envelop her.

The very fact that he was different to all those men made him stand out in her mind. He was something mysterious, something intriguing, but at the same time she knew he was also about as animated as her grandmother’s stuffed owl—creepy thing that it was.

That was where her frustration lay. She was a naturally lively person, and even though she was intrigued by the fact that he may love her, he was still just as silent, boring and serious as he always was. She just couldn’t love someone like that.

“Are you enjoying the play?” she asked finally, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. Anything had to be better than this suffocating silence, though talking to him was not exactly thrilling either.

His hazel eyes darted up to hers, a somewhat surprised expression on his face. Apparently he had not expected to be spoken to.

“I guess it is okay,” he said carefully, almost cautiously.

“I think it’s quite boring myself,” confessed Kitty with incurable honesty. “I keep getting confused on who all the people are, and the storyline is so ridiculously complicated that there seems to be no storyline at all!”

Theodore chuckled slightly, a surprise in itself, and smiled in sympathy with her frustration. “I know what you mean. It is a little ridiculous.”

Kitty just stared at him through wide eyes. He had actually laughed, smiled, and spoken more than three words to her all in one go. It was a miracle!

“I don’t know why Draco chose it,” Theodore continued, a frown creeping onto his face.

“Oh, he didn’t choose it. Ginny did, but I daresay she didn’t know what the play was about.”

“Probably not,” agreed Theodore. “She’s not really the type to read into things,” (“How rude!” exclaimed Ginny with an indignant huff.) “But, then again, it is hard to tell how good something is just from the synopsis.”

Kitty shrugged, not really having considered the matter before, and promptly changed the subject. If he was willing to talk, she was not going to waste it on boring plays that didn’t interest her in the slightest.

It took a while for them to both find a topic that interested them, and, oddly enough, that topic came in the form of books. Kitty, though not a great reader of intellectual work, was an avid reader of romance novels and admitted rather shyly that she wanted to write her own collection of romantic novels one day. Theodore, much to Kitty’s astonishment, confessed that he was also hoping to write a book, and had already started working on it; though he thought it was in need of a good polishing before he would be comfortable enough to let anyone read what he had written.

Nothing could have guaranteed Kitty’s attention more then this simple confession. Gone was her boredom, frustration, awkwardness and worries about a potential arranged marriage between them; she was intrigued and wanted to know everything about this book he was writing. Theodore, only too grateful to have the object of his heart’s desire showing so much animated interest towards him, was more than happy to oblige.

By the time Ginny judged it right to re-enter the box, the two were well on their way to reaching an easy understanding with each other. Though they may not be confessing their undying love to each other anytime soon, Ginny knew it would only be a matter of time before Kitty realised her feelings for Theodore.

That her friend already had feelings for the quiet gentleman, Ginny was quite certain; it was just a matter of Kitty realising how deep those feelings actually went. Only time could do that, but Ginny was pleased to note that her husband’s and her own labours had not been wasted.

Tonight had truly been a success.

OOO

Ginny and Draco returned to their home later that night in high spirits. The play itself had been a dull affair, but they had gleaned much entertainment from watching their friends stumble their way into a close friendship. It was amazing really how quickly the two had hit it off once they both had gotten over their natural awkwardness.

“I’m just going to get changed,” said Ginny, moving towards her personal dressing room that was attached to their bedroom.

Draco nodded absently and continued with whatever it was he was doing by his dressing table. She noticed with a scowl that it was more paper work from Bootle.

“Not more business?” she moaned, quite sick of it all.

“Just be thankful it falls on my shoulders and not yours,” responded her husband frankly. “And yes, it is more paperwork. I forgot all about it… I suppose I’ll have to get it done before tomorrow.”

She sighed heavily at that, more for her husband’s sake than for her own. It looked like it was going to be another late night, and Merlin knew he was not getting enough sleep as it was lately. She had a right mind to go and talk to Bootle and tell him to stop overloading her husband with boring work.

Knowing there was nothing she could do about that right now, Ginny entered her dressing room and began taking out all the pins in her hair that were finally beginning to give her a headache. She then threw open the cupboards and started rifling through her nightwear.

For reasons quite unknown to herself, Ginny automatically moved towards the more risqué items in her closet. This was a first in itself, for these particular articles of clothing had been chosen by ‘well-meaning’ friends to help speed things along in the baby department, though Ginny had never dared wear any of them before. They were not exactly revealing, but they were certainly more alluring to the eye than the tent nightdresses she had been favouring over the past few weeks.

Her eyes alighted on a silken nightdress of emerald green. This one would do.

Pulling it off the rack, she quickly got undressed and then changed into the silky nightdress. It barely came halfway down her thigh, and fell in a rather low scoop at her breasts. Two thin straps held the nightdress together, criss-crossing loosely at the back, but despite all of this, Ginny found it very comfortable to wear.

She walked back into the main bedroom, humming a soft tune, and made her way towards the bed. Draco was already in his usual choice of pyjamas (loose pants) and was seated in the bed, rummaging through the dreaded papers. He glanced up at her briefly, not really paying much attention to her, and then quickly flicked his gaze back to his wife in stunned disbelief.

For a moment he just stared at her, not really sure if he could believe his eyes or not. Surely that goddess in green was not his wife? But then there was that familiar red hair, and unmistakably those were the freckles he had come to love. He had just never seen her look so—so sexy?

She smiled innocently down at him and tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” said Draco a little distantly. “No, there’s nothing on your face…”

But her body…

He swallowed uncomfortably and abruptly transferred his eyes back to his papers. They were much more safe, though much less alluring.

Somehow he just knew that his wife was going to be the death of him. There was only so much a man could take, after all, and she was already pushing his limits. Didn’t she have any idea how undeniably enticing she looked right now? He almost wished she would go back to the tent dresses.

Quite heedless to this hormonal struggle, Ginny clambered onto the bed and slid under the covers. She attempted to go to sleep, but as the sound of rustling paper and Draco muttering to himself made this quite impossible, she ended up giving up on sleeping and instead contented herself by watching her husband work.

He looked very handsome right now, more so than he usually did; with the soft flames gently lighting his pale skin, and his grey eyes standing out more clearly than ever. His hair looked perfect as always, falling in soft strands around his intensely grey eyes, and she found herself quite fascinated by the way his strong mouth curved down into a slight frown as he pondered over a particularly gruelling paper.

Without even realising what she was doing, she was reaching up her hand and pushing the soft strands of his hair away from his eyes; allowing her fingers to gently trail along his forehead and down his cheek in a soft caress. Draco stared at her in some surprise, if a little warily. She had never touched him like this before.

Their eyes met, the silent seconds drawing them in even closer, and because it seemed like the most natural thing to do, Ginny slowly leaned forward and for the second time that day pressed her lips against his.

At first Draco sat perfectly immobile, too stunned to do much more, but then his hand slowly found its way up to her cheek, tilting her face up more towards his, and he was returning the urgent pressure of her lips with a sudden fervour. Ginny seemed to let out a long, contented sigh, even though she made no sound at all, and placed her hand around his neck to pull him closer; dreamily losing herself in his kiss.

This was all the encouragement Draco needed.

Letting his hand trail caressingly up her bare thigh—eliciting a small gasp of surprised pleasure from his wife—Draco deepened the kiss to breathtaking heights; shifting slightly so that he was leaning directly over her. A dizzying rush of emotions passed between them on the electric current of their passion; surging through their interlocked lips and tingling through their bodies in a rush of exhilaration and newly discovered pleasure.

Hearts raced, blood pounded, hands wandered, and it almost seemed as if nothing could stop the tide of unrestrained passion that had been awakened, when a thought suddenly intruded in on Draco’s pleasure and remained annoyingly obstinate in its warning.

Repressing an exasperated sigh, Draco very reluctantly pulled himself away from her and tried hard to ignore the different voices in his mind now arguing with him for his decision. His body was the most vocal of all and did not try to be subtle in its disappointment.

Ginny, looking very breathless and with her cheeks becomingly flushed, made a small noise of protest at his pulling away and raised confused and slightly frustrated eyes to his. “What’s wrong?” she demanded impatiently, clearly agreeing with Draco’s body that his behaviour was not at all to her likings.

Draco would have been amused—the irony in itself was highly entertaining—were it not for the fact that he now found himself in a very uncomfortable situation.

“We can’t do this,” he said firmly, while inwardly cursing his own conscience for making him do this.

“Of course we can,” said his wife recklessly, and leaned up again to steal a kiss.

Draco firmly gripped her shoulders and held her back. “I’m serious, Ginny! Just think about what you’re doing for a moment. You’re going to really regret this tomorrow, you know you will, and I don’t want that on my conscience. You were just lost in the moment but once you get over that I can assure you that you will be glad I stopped us before things got too out of hand.”

“Maybe I want things to get out of hand! Maybe I don’t care anymore!”

“You say that now but you don’t really mean it.”

“I do mean it!” She pressed herself closer to him; heedless to the strong hold he had on her shoulders. “I’m ready now.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Ginevra” Draco said firmly, but not at all unkindly.

Ginny’s face burned with mortification. He had rejected her. After all of that he had simply rejected her.

She turned her face away in painful embarrassment, her lips quivering slightly with the overwhelmingly crushing feeling of shame she now felt. This was not how she had expected things to turn out at all, and all she could think of was that she must have done something wrong. Maybe she just wasn’t good enough for him?

“Am I not attractive enough for you?” she demanded in a small voice, pathetically wavering with suppressed tears.

“It’s not like that at all!” exclaimed Draco, quite horrified that she was taking it this way. It was anything but because she was not attractive enough for him. She was so damn beautiful and tempting in his eyes that even now he felt like throwing his scruples to the wind, rolling on top of her, and finishing what he had started.

“T-then w-what?” stammered Ginny, becoming increasingly more emotional by the second.

“I just don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and feel like you’ve made a big mistake,” he admitted, releasing the hold he had on her shoulders. “You say you’re ready, but you don’t even know what you’re saying right now. You were just lost in the moment—we both were—and I don’t want us to ruin everything just because we couldn’t control our hormones for one night.”

She sniffed a little pathetically, still with her face averted. Her embarrassment was beginning to overwhelm her desire, and that was bringing a very sobering and unwelcome effect on her thoughts.

Draco sighed in some frustration—he was never one to deal well with emotional woman—and ran a restless hand through his hair. “Look, Ginny, you must know I’m not trying to hurt you. Believe me when I say that if I wasn’t so worried that you would kick up a fuss tomorrow I would not hesitate to give you what you want right now, but I just—”

“I know,” she cut in softly. “You don’t need to say anything more.”

He broke off abruptly and stared at her searchingly for a moment. She didn’t sound very happy; she didn’t look it either, but before he could ask her if she was all right, Ginny suddenly stood up from the bed and impatiently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“I think I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight,” she said in an attempt at nonchalance, but only ended up looking more pathetic than ever. She gave him a rather tremulous smile, and not even waiting for him to reply, quickly left the room.

Draco let out a deep breath once the door had shut behind her, closing his eyes in a wince at his own stupidity, and banged his head back against the wall. That had gone very badly, and even more troubling was the question of what was going to happen now.

Kissing, touching, and anything else of a more intimate nature had been absolutely forbidden between them, both through spoken and unspoken agreements. Those agreements had just been breached in every possible way, except one, and even though Ginny had been the instigator of the kiss, he was the one who had taken things to much less innocent paths.

Neither was blameless here, but both would have to suffer the consequences of this night. The only question was: what would those consequences be?