Fic: Hospitality - 11/? - M - Draco/Ginny
Title: Hospitality
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Rating: R (M) - eventually
Summary: “There was no snide quip though. No deliberately cutting comment. Ginny stared and then a second later the grey eyes rolled dramatically and turned away from her towards the tasteless curtains.” Post-war fic. Ginny was just plodding along, enduring her perfectly well-ordered normal life and dreaming that maybe something more interesting might come along. She just never thought that the ‘something’ might actually turn out to be a ‘someone’.
Spoilers: HBP
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
1: Paperwork
2: The Good Life
3: Cures and Conundrums
4: Escape, with Sandwiches
5: Night Owls
6: Bookworm
7: A Slytherin Sunday
8: Getting Better
9: History Class and French Lessons
10: Paint the Night with Colour
PART ELEVEN: SLEEP SOFTLY
“I have no intention of accompanying you to that hovel you call home,” Malfoy hissed, inclining his head towards hers as he did so.
To her relief, he did not pull his arm away. With each step she took, her ankle was hurting with increasingly severity, and without his support Ginny was nearly certain that she would fall over. Since she could sense that the two Aurors were still watching them, Ginny decided that was the last thing she wanted to happen. She knew they were just waiting for an excuse to follow them.
Ginny looked at him sharply, dark eyes slightly wild. “Be quiet!” she exclaimed in a hurried whisper. “They’ll hear you!”
“Let them,” he spat.
Squeezing his arm with hers, Ginny said, “Think, Malfoy. You really don’t want them to do that. After the story I just spun them they really will think you’re up to something.”
His jaw tightened, the paleness of his flesh making it all too visible in the darkness. He was clearly far from happy about the situation.
“If it’s any consolation we’re not going to the Burrow,” she told him. As she had expected, he winced slightly at the name. It was a relatively comforting thing to witness considering how strange everything else seemed. “I’ve got my own place just off Diagon Alley now,” she continued.
A flicker of interest moved across his features. Ginny caught sight of it from the corner of her eye even though he covered it quickly. Clearly he had not been expecting her to say something like that. Ginny experienced a brief moment of satisfaction as she realised that she had surprised him.
“However did you manage that, Weasley?” he sniped, once again true to form. “I wouldn’t have thought your menial little job at the hospital - oh yes, I know you’re no nurse - would have paid enough to afford the rent. Tell me, have you been supplementing by stealing from poor, vulnerable patients? Or perhaps you’ve been, ah, moonlighting?”
She tugged on his arm, manoeuvring him down a side street. “Yes, Malfoy, I’ve been working down Knockturn Alley as a five Galleon-a-go whore in my spare time.”
His head spun around so sharply that Ginny knew instantly that for a second he had actually believed her. He looked immediately sullen when he noticed the sly smile appearing on her face and Ginny silently blessed her ability to act. He jerked his eyes forwards and before she could stop it, a snort of laughter escaped. She watched as Malfoy’s eyes darken once again.
Keeping his gaze forwards, he drawled, “Of course, I doubt anyone would blame you even if that were true. After all, who would voluntarily live in that rat’s rest your parents called home?”
She bit back the obvious reply regarding his own current residence - or lack thereof. He was purposefully taunting her and she should not allow herself to sink to his level. Instead, she said, “We need to turn left here.”
“That’s it?” he asked. “You’re not even going to try and make an attempt at a cutting reply?”
“There’s no need to sound so disappointed, Malfoy,” she told him, suppressing another chuckle. Eyes sparkling, Ginny added, “Maybe I’m just saving all my good material up for later.”
“Later?” Malfoy queried. “And what ‘later’ would that be? There will be no ‘later’. The moment that I’m sure we’re not being followed then I’m dumping you where you’re standing.” He frowned suddenly, turning to look at her. “Why have we stopped?”
“This is my building,” she said gesturing to the huge converted four story Victorian terrace house that they were stood in front of. It was an impressive looking redbrick building, matched on either side by nearly identical properties. The only thing that truly defined it was that there was clear evidence that the owner took pride in maintaining it. The window frames were neatly painted, the brickwork in good condition and the porch was kept clean and tidy, free of leaves and other such debris that might accumulate.
Malfoy turned his gaze at to the building, once again looking mildly surprised. “You live here?” he asked sceptically.
“Top floor flat,” she told him.
His eyes scanned upwards, taking in the distance between where they stood and the windows built into the eaves. “Next you’re going to tell me that you want me to help you up there.”
Ginny hesitated before saying, “I’d appreciate it. Not that I expect you to, of course.”
When he made no response, Ginny pulled her arm away from his and tentatively began to hobble towards the small walkway that led up to the porch. Each step made her wince slightly. She should have known that Malfoy’s Good Samaritan act would not last. Hopefully by the time morning rolled around she would have recovered enough from the alcohol that she had consumed to cast a few healing charms.
“You look like a Kneazle that someone’s kicked,” Malfoy observed, dryly.
Ginny growled at him, taking hold of the railing that ran down the walkway to prevent people from falling over the lip and into the sunken entrance to the basement flat. She reached the porch and leaned against the wall so that she could rest her ankle while hunting around in her purse for the key at the same time.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Malfoy took a few hesitant steps towards her then paused, as if he did not quite know what he was doing.
“Haven’t you left yet?” she bit, roughly shoving aside a tube of lipstick that kept getting in the way. Her keys should have been easy enough to find in the relatively small purse but there was very little light available and the soft material meant that everything kept slipping and sliding around inside. It was proving to be quite a task.
Malfoy made a disgruntled sound and stepped forwards once more. Before Ginny had chance to react, he had reached out grabbed the purse from her. The redhead’s eyes jerked up and widened, as for a moment she wondered whether she would be greeted with the sight of him running away down the street. To her surprise, however, Malfoy had his head bent and was searching around in the purse.
“There,” he said triumphantly, digging out her keys. He held them and the purse out towards her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, not quite sure what to make of the gesture. Taking the key from him, she turned and inserted it into the lock. To her continued surprise, Malfoy stepped up close to her and then inside the building once she had managed to get the door open.
Now stood in the small entranceway, Ginny eyed him apprehensively as she tried to decide what he was doing. The low lighting that was employed on a night time had immediately flared to life when they had entered so it was easy enough to see his face. There was very little indication on his features that he was thinking of doing anything, however. He was just stood there, back to the doorway, hands jammed into the pockets of his tired looking coat. He was not even looking at her.
Ginny’s chest contracted slightly - her heart beating a little harder. There was something oddly young about him at that moment - something that she was not even sure that she had ever seen before, not even when they had been at school.
“So…” she began. “Thank you.”
“You already said that,” he told her tightly.
“Yeah, I guess I did. You see, the thing is, I was just thinking that maybe you might want to…” She stopped, pulling herself up short mid-ramble and wondering what exactly she had been thinking. There was a part of her that was beginning to suspect that she had not been thinking at all - that she had been speaking impulsively.
Malfoy was looking at her expectantly now, his blond hair slipping forwards into his eyes. He made no move to push it aside, only continued to stare at her with impenetrable grey eyes.
Ginny sighed, closed her eyes and while trying to ignore the sensation of her cheeks heating with embarrassment, said, “Do you want to stay here tonight? I’ve got a dead comfortable couch and loads of spare towels so you could take a shower or a bath, or something.” She trailed off again, forcing her eyes open and to his face. Malfoy was watching her with an astonishment expression on his features.
Feeling foolish, she added, “Forget about it.” Turning, she started towards the staircase only to be stopped by a hand touching her arm. Ginny jumped, wondering at how quickly he had moved.
“Okay,” he said, rather gruffly and immediately echoed her embarrassment. “But only because you owe me for walking you back here.”
Ginny met his gaze, pleasantly surprised that from the first step it was far easier to do so since they were nearly on a level. “Aren’t you worried that it might be some kind of trick?” she asked.
Malfoy shook his head. “You’re far too noble to do something like that,” he stated simply. He was probably right, Ginny realised, hating the fact. All that she could think of now was the brief flicker of hopeful anticipation that she had noticed passing through his eyes before he managed to cover it. She had not expected it which was why, when he had not spoken immediately, she had presumed that she had imagined it and turned away to leave.
Now though, after listening to Malfoy stiffly and awkwardly accept her proposal, Ginny was certain that she had seen it. There had been more than a passing interest, and she could not help but wonder exactly how long it had been since he had stayed anywhere that was not a hospital bed or a street. That, along with how he had come to be on the streets in the first place, was a question for another time, however. One which Ginny suspected was going to plague her mercilessly, just as everything else about Malfoy did.
“Come on, then,” she told him, keeping her tone level. “There are a lot of stairs to climb and I do actually want to get some sleep at some point tonight.”
Of course, she would have to inform Hermione, Ginny realised as they began to climb the stairs. Ever since she had come across Malfoy, her friend’s features had been hovering near the front of her mind with an appropriately worried expression. No doubt it would far from please the blond wizard to discover that she had contacted his healer - his ex-healer. Ginny however, was not brave enough to contemplate what would happen if Hermione ever discovered that Malfoy had stayed with her and that she had kept it to herself.
Visions of her friend rushing around with a case full of vials full of potions to shove down Malfoy’s throat assaulted her. They quickly brought a small smile to her lips. Malfoy must have truly hated being under Hermione’s command at the hospital.
Ginny’s carves were aching by the time they reached the top landing and she was more than a little out of breath. Tactfully, she ignored the fact that Malfoy was huffing and puffing. He was trying to lean against the wall without appearing to do so.
Opening the door, Ginny stepped inside and quickly turned on the lights. Even so, Malfoy still stumbled up the small step, his foot landing heavily as he tried to regain his balance.
“You could have warned me,” he grumbled, following her inside, staring at his traitorous feet for a moment before pining her with his gaze.
“But where would the fun have been in that?” she countered, with a smirk. Before she turned away, Ginny saw him pout slightly.
She led him into the sitting room, pleased to see that it was at least moderately tidy. There had been a vein of nervousness tingling along the line of her spine as part of her had anticipated used crockery, old newspapers, and dirty washing strewn over every surface. It was not until she was actually stood in the room that Ginny remembered cleaning before going out for the evening. A small part of her had been preparing just in case she did decide to allow Blaise to come home with her.
Gesturing to the couch, she said, “I swear that it’s more comfortable than it looks. I’ll enlarge it a bit though - you’re taller than I remember.”
He nodded but remained quiet. Surprised, Ginny glanced back over her shoulder to find him looking around the room, clearly curious. His eyes picked over the couch, the radio, the bookshelves, and her desk. They lingered only briefly on her books and photographs before moving on. It was only when she happened to glance down at his feet that she noticed he was very purposefully avoiding standing on the edge of the rug. She frowned slightly, then realised a moment later that it was because his shoes were covered in dirt. A small, unnameable feeling slipped through her briefly. It was a clear, though unexpected, acknowledgment on his part that her possessions were worth keeping in good condition. It was hardly the actions of the boy that she had known in school.
Grey eyes darted up to her face and Ginny flushed as she realised that she had been staring at him. Embarrassment flooded through her at the discovery.
Turning away swiftly, she dragged her coat from her shoulders and dropped it over the back of the chair at her desk. Moving over to the window, she pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the streetlight.
“I know it’s late, but do you want that shower I mentioned? Or there’s the bath, if you would prefer.”
Malfoy did not reply immediately so Ginny glanced back towards him. To her surprise, he was staring at her. Or rather, he was staring at her dress. The look in his eyes was nearly indefinable.
Ginny’s flush darkened. “I suppose you think it’s dreadful,” she said. “Not exactly your standard Diagon Alley fare.”
A purely masculine appreciation danced through his eyes that made the fine hairs on the back of Ginny’s neck stand on end. It was far too similar to the look that Blaise had given her at the beginning of their date when her outfit had first been revealed. It made her a little uncomfortable. She had never expected to see such a look on Draco Malfoy’s face.
“I was going to say that for a Weasley you clean up rather well,” he pointed out.
“Oh,” Ginny said lamely, wondering how on earth she was meant to respond to such an unexpected comment. In her mind, Malfoy complimenting her was akin to Voldemort complimenting Harry.
She bit her lip lightly, then said, “You do realise it’s from a Muggle store, don’t you?”
The corner of his lips tilted up into a half smile before immediately dropping again. Drawing his shoulders back, he said, “I’ll take you up on that offer of a bath.”
Ginny nodded, thankful that the subject had been changed. As she passed him in order to lead him through to her bedroom and the bathroom beyond, Ginny could not help but be aware that he might well be watching her carefully. All the way down the corridor, on the short trip to her bedroom, she could not shake the feeling that his eyes were wandering over her back and shoulders, down over the outline of her hips, her buttocks and to the shapely form of her legs. By the time that she reached the door to the room, she was quite flushed once again.
She felt foolish, knowing that she was probably imagining it, and even if she was not, just because Malfoy was looking it did not mean anything. Plenty of men had glanced at her and sent envious glares at Blaise while they had been out together that night.
Of course, taking Malfoy into her bedroom was another anxiety inspiring experience all on its own. It stirred up a wealth of feelings - mostly of further embarrassment as she could not help but wonder what he was thinking. At least she had managed to firmly establish why they were heading into the room prior to actually doing so.
Nervously, Ginny looked back at him. “The bathroom is through that door there,” she said, pointing towards it. “There are fresh towels in the airing cupboard and grab whatever you need toiletry-wise.”
He nodded and then slowly wandered towards the bathroom. Without another word, he stepped inside and closed the door.
Unconsciously, Ginny let out a long sigh of relief. She felt flustered and it was not a pleasant feeling at all. Going to the set of drawers, she routed around in the bottom one until she came up with a set of navy blue men’s pyjamas. They were Bill’s - left over from one of his many arguments with Fleur. Back in the days before the blonde witch had gotten pregnant, it had not been uncommon for her oldest brother to turn up on her doorstep once every three or four months looking sullen because he had argued with his wife. Normally he would stay the night, giving them both room to calm down and then hurry off home with his tail between his legs. Bill’s reasoning was that by staying with Ginny, at least he would only be facing Fleur’s wrath and not his mother’s as well, which would have been certain if he had returned to the Burrow.
A little sceptically, Ginny shook out the pyjamas and inspected them. The colour was a full, rich, dark blue. Indeed they still looked practically brand new since Bill had only used them a few times. They certainly looked as if they would fit Malfoy’s tall frame. In fact, on further inspection, Ginny decided that they would probably even be a little large on him. At least Malfoy could not complain that they were below his usual standard.
She placed them on the end of her bed, in a position where he was certain to see them on exiting the bathroom. After quickly retrieving a spare blanket and a pillow from her blanket box, she quietly left the room. The thought of still being in there when Malfoy emerged was not a comfortable one.
Ginny blinked back images of towels and damp bare skin as she made her way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Returning to the sitting room, she dropped the pile of bedding she was carrying onto the couch and grabbed the second blanket from the back of it. Standing back a little way, she carefully lengthened the couch as much as the room would allow without blocking the doorway. To Ginny’s eye it still looked as if it would be too short but she decided that it would have to do. Wearily, she made up the couch - first covering it with one of the blankets, then the pillow and finally throwing the other blanket over the top.
A glance towards the clock told her it was worryingly late. She groaned, dropping onto the couch tiredly as she realised what a chore it would be to make it out of bed in the morning.
Time drifted by slowly. Malfoy was apparently determined to spend an age in the bath, or doing whatever it was he was doing. Inevitably, Ginny’s eyelids began to droop and sleep invaded.
~ O ~
She woke with a start, jerking into an awkward sitting position and immediately regretting it when she became dizzy and light-headed. Pressing her fingers to her temples, Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten, pushing away the impending ache of her headache.
Only when she had started to feel relatively normal again did Ginny dare to slowly open her eyes - wincing at the thin bright sunlight that was seeping into the room. She frowned, disorientated, as she realised exactly where she was.
Why on earth had she slept on the couch?
Confused, she shifted her legs around to settle on the floor - a procedure that turned out to be rather more difficult than she had expected since her legs were tangle up in a blanket. As she plucked at the thing and tried to unwind it from around her legs, a flood of memories from the night before hit her.
Malfoy.
She groaned and struggled to her feet, wincing as her ankle protested vehemently. Absently, she noticed that she had managed to loose her heals at some point during the night and that they were no where in sight. The thought made her stop and think; she could not remember taking them off, or covering herself with a blanket. Ginny shook the confusion off. Either she had done it or Malfoy had, and as disturbing as the thought might be that he may have effectively tucked her in, at least she knew that he had behaved himself. Tired as she had been, Ginny did not think she would have slept through him doing anything nefarious.
At least she did not think so.
The question was, of course, if she had slept on the couch then where had Malfoy stayed? She could hardly imagine him curling up on her armchair.
Unfortunately, there was only one possible explanation.
She trod lightly and silently in the direction of her bedroom, wondering what she would say to the wizard if she did find him in there. There was a chance that he had simply left some time during the night but Ginny was sceptical of that. She doubted that Malfoy would have gone to the trouble of accepting her offer in the first place if he was not going to take full advantage of it. If Malfoy was anything like he had once been, then there would no way that he would think of leaving before he had at least used all her hot water and had a full cooked breakfast.
Of course there were far worse things that she could find once she entered the room. Malfoy might have passed out in the bath and drowned. Or he could have slipped while climbing out of the tub and cracked his head open. Either was possible since he had not looked especially steady on his feet last night.
Ginny shivered at the prospect, forcing herself to reach for the handle on her bedroom door. It slipped open with the barest ‘click’ and Ginny peeked around the edge. To her relief - as well as irritation - there was a distinctive large shape underneath the lilac sheets. Drawing her shoulders back, she crept inside, quietly closing the door after her.
Malfoy had not thought to close the curtains before going to bed, so the room was flooded with bright sunlight. It streamed over the bed, seeming to make it glow warmly. Ginny padded around until she was stood at the same side that Malfoy was occupying and looked down at him.
It was hard to believe that the man sleeping so peacefully in her bed with his cheek pressed tightly against the pillow was the same person she had grown up disliking so intensely. Long lashes brushed his cheeks, unruly strands of pale hair spread lay over his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted as he breathed deeply in sleep. He looked younger and, Ginny thought awkwardly, almost ethereal. The concept was so peculiar to contemplate that Ginny could hardly believe that she had been the one to think it. Malfoy of all people should never be able to appear ethereal. Only the dark circles around his eyes and several days’ worth of stubble growth spoiled the picture.
Looking at him now, Ginny could not help but wonder once again how he had come to be in his current situation. Freshly washed and dressed in Bill’s neat pyjamas, Malfoy looked far more like the teenager that she remembered from Hogwarts. She sighed and nearly reached out to brush the hair from his eyes only to snatch her hand back at the last moment. Mildly horrified by what she had been about to do, Ginny took a step back away from the bed, putting a safe distance between them in case her hand should decide to try and disobey her again.
Instead, she opened her mouth to call his name. No sound came however as she stopped herself. As irritating as it was to find him asleep in her bed, Ginny was conscious that his night had been as late as hers had been, perhaps even later. Undoubtedly, he needed to rest, and since while he was asleep Ginny knew she did not have to deal with any awkward conversations from him, she decided to let him stay that way.
Instead, she moved as quietly as she could, collecting together some clean clothes for work. It was not until she was bending down to try and pull out the drawer in the bedside cabinet that contained her underwear that her gaze lighted on the clock. Her eyes widened in horror as she realised what the time was.
12: Blood and Lazy Bones
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Rating: R (M) - eventually
Summary: “There was no snide quip though. No deliberately cutting comment. Ginny stared and then a second later the grey eyes rolled dramatically and turned away from her towards the tasteless curtains.” Post-war fic. Ginny was just plodding along, enduring her perfectly well-ordered normal life and dreaming that maybe something more interesting might come along. She just never thought that the ‘something’ might actually turn out to be a ‘someone’.
Spoilers: HBP
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
1: Paperwork
2: The Good Life
3: Cures and Conundrums
4: Escape, with Sandwiches
5: Night Owls
6: Bookworm
7: A Slytherin Sunday
8: Getting Better
9: History Class and French Lessons
10: Paint the Night with Colour
PART ELEVEN: SLEEP SOFTLY
“I have no intention of accompanying you to that hovel you call home,” Malfoy hissed, inclining his head towards hers as he did so.
To her relief, he did not pull his arm away. With each step she took, her ankle was hurting with increasingly severity, and without his support Ginny was nearly certain that she would fall over. Since she could sense that the two Aurors were still watching them, Ginny decided that was the last thing she wanted to happen. She knew they were just waiting for an excuse to follow them.
Ginny looked at him sharply, dark eyes slightly wild. “Be quiet!” she exclaimed in a hurried whisper. “They’ll hear you!”
“Let them,” he spat.
Squeezing his arm with hers, Ginny said, “Think, Malfoy. You really don’t want them to do that. After the story I just spun them they really will think you’re up to something.”
His jaw tightened, the paleness of his flesh making it all too visible in the darkness. He was clearly far from happy about the situation.
“If it’s any consolation we’re not going to the Burrow,” she told him. As she had expected, he winced slightly at the name. It was a relatively comforting thing to witness considering how strange everything else seemed. “I’ve got my own place just off Diagon Alley now,” she continued.
A flicker of interest moved across his features. Ginny caught sight of it from the corner of her eye even though he covered it quickly. Clearly he had not been expecting her to say something like that. Ginny experienced a brief moment of satisfaction as she realised that she had surprised him.
“However did you manage that, Weasley?” he sniped, once again true to form. “I wouldn’t have thought your menial little job at the hospital - oh yes, I know you’re no nurse - would have paid enough to afford the rent. Tell me, have you been supplementing by stealing from poor, vulnerable patients? Or perhaps you’ve been, ah, moonlighting?”
She tugged on his arm, manoeuvring him down a side street. “Yes, Malfoy, I’ve been working down Knockturn Alley as a five Galleon-a-go whore in my spare time.”
His head spun around so sharply that Ginny knew instantly that for a second he had actually believed her. He looked immediately sullen when he noticed the sly smile appearing on her face and Ginny silently blessed her ability to act. He jerked his eyes forwards and before she could stop it, a snort of laughter escaped. She watched as Malfoy’s eyes darken once again.
Keeping his gaze forwards, he drawled, “Of course, I doubt anyone would blame you even if that were true. After all, who would voluntarily live in that rat’s rest your parents called home?”
She bit back the obvious reply regarding his own current residence - or lack thereof. He was purposefully taunting her and she should not allow herself to sink to his level. Instead, she said, “We need to turn left here.”
“That’s it?” he asked. “You’re not even going to try and make an attempt at a cutting reply?”
“There’s no need to sound so disappointed, Malfoy,” she told him, suppressing another chuckle. Eyes sparkling, Ginny added, “Maybe I’m just saving all my good material up for later.”
“Later?” Malfoy queried. “And what ‘later’ would that be? There will be no ‘later’. The moment that I’m sure we’re not being followed then I’m dumping you where you’re standing.” He frowned suddenly, turning to look at her. “Why have we stopped?”
“This is my building,” she said gesturing to the huge converted four story Victorian terrace house that they were stood in front of. It was an impressive looking redbrick building, matched on either side by nearly identical properties. The only thing that truly defined it was that there was clear evidence that the owner took pride in maintaining it. The window frames were neatly painted, the brickwork in good condition and the porch was kept clean and tidy, free of leaves and other such debris that might accumulate.
Malfoy turned his gaze at to the building, once again looking mildly surprised. “You live here?” he asked sceptically.
“Top floor flat,” she told him.
His eyes scanned upwards, taking in the distance between where they stood and the windows built into the eaves. “Next you’re going to tell me that you want me to help you up there.”
Ginny hesitated before saying, “I’d appreciate it. Not that I expect you to, of course.”
When he made no response, Ginny pulled her arm away from his and tentatively began to hobble towards the small walkway that led up to the porch. Each step made her wince slightly. She should have known that Malfoy’s Good Samaritan act would not last. Hopefully by the time morning rolled around she would have recovered enough from the alcohol that she had consumed to cast a few healing charms.
“You look like a Kneazle that someone’s kicked,” Malfoy observed, dryly.
Ginny growled at him, taking hold of the railing that ran down the walkway to prevent people from falling over the lip and into the sunken entrance to the basement flat. She reached the porch and leaned against the wall so that she could rest her ankle while hunting around in her purse for the key at the same time.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Malfoy took a few hesitant steps towards her then paused, as if he did not quite know what he was doing.
“Haven’t you left yet?” she bit, roughly shoving aside a tube of lipstick that kept getting in the way. Her keys should have been easy enough to find in the relatively small purse but there was very little light available and the soft material meant that everything kept slipping and sliding around inside. It was proving to be quite a task.
Malfoy made a disgruntled sound and stepped forwards once more. Before Ginny had chance to react, he had reached out grabbed the purse from her. The redhead’s eyes jerked up and widened, as for a moment she wondered whether she would be greeted with the sight of him running away down the street. To her surprise, however, Malfoy had his head bent and was searching around in the purse.
“There,” he said triumphantly, digging out her keys. He held them and the purse out towards her.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, not quite sure what to make of the gesture. Taking the key from him, she turned and inserted it into the lock. To her continued surprise, Malfoy stepped up close to her and then inside the building once she had managed to get the door open.
Now stood in the small entranceway, Ginny eyed him apprehensively as she tried to decide what he was doing. The low lighting that was employed on a night time had immediately flared to life when they had entered so it was easy enough to see his face. There was very little indication on his features that he was thinking of doing anything, however. He was just stood there, back to the doorway, hands jammed into the pockets of his tired looking coat. He was not even looking at her.
Ginny’s chest contracted slightly - her heart beating a little harder. There was something oddly young about him at that moment - something that she was not even sure that she had ever seen before, not even when they had been at school.
“So…” she began. “Thank you.”
“You already said that,” he told her tightly.
“Yeah, I guess I did. You see, the thing is, I was just thinking that maybe you might want to…” She stopped, pulling herself up short mid-ramble and wondering what exactly she had been thinking. There was a part of her that was beginning to suspect that she had not been thinking at all - that she had been speaking impulsively.
Malfoy was looking at her expectantly now, his blond hair slipping forwards into his eyes. He made no move to push it aside, only continued to stare at her with impenetrable grey eyes.
Ginny sighed, closed her eyes and while trying to ignore the sensation of her cheeks heating with embarrassment, said, “Do you want to stay here tonight? I’ve got a dead comfortable couch and loads of spare towels so you could take a shower or a bath, or something.” She trailed off again, forcing her eyes open and to his face. Malfoy was watching her with an astonishment expression on his features.
Feeling foolish, she added, “Forget about it.” Turning, she started towards the staircase only to be stopped by a hand touching her arm. Ginny jumped, wondering at how quickly he had moved.
“Okay,” he said, rather gruffly and immediately echoed her embarrassment. “But only because you owe me for walking you back here.”
Ginny met his gaze, pleasantly surprised that from the first step it was far easier to do so since they were nearly on a level. “Aren’t you worried that it might be some kind of trick?” she asked.
Malfoy shook his head. “You’re far too noble to do something like that,” he stated simply. He was probably right, Ginny realised, hating the fact. All that she could think of now was the brief flicker of hopeful anticipation that she had noticed passing through his eyes before he managed to cover it. She had not expected it which was why, when he had not spoken immediately, she had presumed that she had imagined it and turned away to leave.
Now though, after listening to Malfoy stiffly and awkwardly accept her proposal, Ginny was certain that she had seen it. There had been more than a passing interest, and she could not help but wonder exactly how long it had been since he had stayed anywhere that was not a hospital bed or a street. That, along with how he had come to be on the streets in the first place, was a question for another time, however. One which Ginny suspected was going to plague her mercilessly, just as everything else about Malfoy did.
“Come on, then,” she told him, keeping her tone level. “There are a lot of stairs to climb and I do actually want to get some sleep at some point tonight.”
Of course, she would have to inform Hermione, Ginny realised as they began to climb the stairs. Ever since she had come across Malfoy, her friend’s features had been hovering near the front of her mind with an appropriately worried expression. No doubt it would far from please the blond wizard to discover that she had contacted his healer - his ex-healer. Ginny however, was not brave enough to contemplate what would happen if Hermione ever discovered that Malfoy had stayed with her and that she had kept it to herself.
Visions of her friend rushing around with a case full of vials full of potions to shove down Malfoy’s throat assaulted her. They quickly brought a small smile to her lips. Malfoy must have truly hated being under Hermione’s command at the hospital.
Ginny’s carves were aching by the time they reached the top landing and she was more than a little out of breath. Tactfully, she ignored the fact that Malfoy was huffing and puffing. He was trying to lean against the wall without appearing to do so.
Opening the door, Ginny stepped inside and quickly turned on the lights. Even so, Malfoy still stumbled up the small step, his foot landing heavily as he tried to regain his balance.
“You could have warned me,” he grumbled, following her inside, staring at his traitorous feet for a moment before pining her with his gaze.
“But where would the fun have been in that?” she countered, with a smirk. Before she turned away, Ginny saw him pout slightly.
She led him into the sitting room, pleased to see that it was at least moderately tidy. There had been a vein of nervousness tingling along the line of her spine as part of her had anticipated used crockery, old newspapers, and dirty washing strewn over every surface. It was not until she was actually stood in the room that Ginny remembered cleaning before going out for the evening. A small part of her had been preparing just in case she did decide to allow Blaise to come home with her.
Gesturing to the couch, she said, “I swear that it’s more comfortable than it looks. I’ll enlarge it a bit though - you’re taller than I remember.”
He nodded but remained quiet. Surprised, Ginny glanced back over her shoulder to find him looking around the room, clearly curious. His eyes picked over the couch, the radio, the bookshelves, and her desk. They lingered only briefly on her books and photographs before moving on. It was only when she happened to glance down at his feet that she noticed he was very purposefully avoiding standing on the edge of the rug. She frowned slightly, then realised a moment later that it was because his shoes were covered in dirt. A small, unnameable feeling slipped through her briefly. It was a clear, though unexpected, acknowledgment on his part that her possessions were worth keeping in good condition. It was hardly the actions of the boy that she had known in school.
Grey eyes darted up to her face and Ginny flushed as she realised that she had been staring at him. Embarrassment flooded through her at the discovery.
Turning away swiftly, she dragged her coat from her shoulders and dropped it over the back of the chair at her desk. Moving over to the window, she pulled the curtains shut, blocking out the streetlight.
“I know it’s late, but do you want that shower I mentioned? Or there’s the bath, if you would prefer.”
Malfoy did not reply immediately so Ginny glanced back towards him. To her surprise, he was staring at her. Or rather, he was staring at her dress. The look in his eyes was nearly indefinable.
Ginny’s flush darkened. “I suppose you think it’s dreadful,” she said. “Not exactly your standard Diagon Alley fare.”
A purely masculine appreciation danced through his eyes that made the fine hairs on the back of Ginny’s neck stand on end. It was far too similar to the look that Blaise had given her at the beginning of their date when her outfit had first been revealed. It made her a little uncomfortable. She had never expected to see such a look on Draco Malfoy’s face.
“I was going to say that for a Weasley you clean up rather well,” he pointed out.
“Oh,” Ginny said lamely, wondering how on earth she was meant to respond to such an unexpected comment. In her mind, Malfoy complimenting her was akin to Voldemort complimenting Harry.
She bit her lip lightly, then said, “You do realise it’s from a Muggle store, don’t you?”
The corner of his lips tilted up into a half smile before immediately dropping again. Drawing his shoulders back, he said, “I’ll take you up on that offer of a bath.”
Ginny nodded, thankful that the subject had been changed. As she passed him in order to lead him through to her bedroom and the bathroom beyond, Ginny could not help but be aware that he might well be watching her carefully. All the way down the corridor, on the short trip to her bedroom, she could not shake the feeling that his eyes were wandering over her back and shoulders, down over the outline of her hips, her buttocks and to the shapely form of her legs. By the time that she reached the door to the room, she was quite flushed once again.
She felt foolish, knowing that she was probably imagining it, and even if she was not, just because Malfoy was looking it did not mean anything. Plenty of men had glanced at her and sent envious glares at Blaise while they had been out together that night.
Of course, taking Malfoy into her bedroom was another anxiety inspiring experience all on its own. It stirred up a wealth of feelings - mostly of further embarrassment as she could not help but wonder what he was thinking. At least she had managed to firmly establish why they were heading into the room prior to actually doing so.
Nervously, Ginny looked back at him. “The bathroom is through that door there,” she said, pointing towards it. “There are fresh towels in the airing cupboard and grab whatever you need toiletry-wise.”
He nodded and then slowly wandered towards the bathroom. Without another word, he stepped inside and closed the door.
Unconsciously, Ginny let out a long sigh of relief. She felt flustered and it was not a pleasant feeling at all. Going to the set of drawers, she routed around in the bottom one until she came up with a set of navy blue men’s pyjamas. They were Bill’s - left over from one of his many arguments with Fleur. Back in the days before the blonde witch had gotten pregnant, it had not been uncommon for her oldest brother to turn up on her doorstep once every three or four months looking sullen because he had argued with his wife. Normally he would stay the night, giving them both room to calm down and then hurry off home with his tail between his legs. Bill’s reasoning was that by staying with Ginny, at least he would only be facing Fleur’s wrath and not his mother’s as well, which would have been certain if he had returned to the Burrow.
A little sceptically, Ginny shook out the pyjamas and inspected them. The colour was a full, rich, dark blue. Indeed they still looked practically brand new since Bill had only used them a few times. They certainly looked as if they would fit Malfoy’s tall frame. In fact, on further inspection, Ginny decided that they would probably even be a little large on him. At least Malfoy could not complain that they were below his usual standard.
She placed them on the end of her bed, in a position where he was certain to see them on exiting the bathroom. After quickly retrieving a spare blanket and a pillow from her blanket box, she quietly left the room. The thought of still being in there when Malfoy emerged was not a comfortable one.
Ginny blinked back images of towels and damp bare skin as she made her way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Returning to the sitting room, she dropped the pile of bedding she was carrying onto the couch and grabbed the second blanket from the back of it. Standing back a little way, she carefully lengthened the couch as much as the room would allow without blocking the doorway. To Ginny’s eye it still looked as if it would be too short but she decided that it would have to do. Wearily, she made up the couch - first covering it with one of the blankets, then the pillow and finally throwing the other blanket over the top.
A glance towards the clock told her it was worryingly late. She groaned, dropping onto the couch tiredly as she realised what a chore it would be to make it out of bed in the morning.
Time drifted by slowly. Malfoy was apparently determined to spend an age in the bath, or doing whatever it was he was doing. Inevitably, Ginny’s eyelids began to droop and sleep invaded.
~ O ~
She woke with a start, jerking into an awkward sitting position and immediately regretting it when she became dizzy and light-headed. Pressing her fingers to her temples, Ginny squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten, pushing away the impending ache of her headache.
Only when she had started to feel relatively normal again did Ginny dare to slowly open her eyes - wincing at the thin bright sunlight that was seeping into the room. She frowned, disorientated, as she realised exactly where she was.
Why on earth had she slept on the couch?
Confused, she shifted her legs around to settle on the floor - a procedure that turned out to be rather more difficult than she had expected since her legs were tangle up in a blanket. As she plucked at the thing and tried to unwind it from around her legs, a flood of memories from the night before hit her.
Malfoy.
She groaned and struggled to her feet, wincing as her ankle protested vehemently. Absently, she noticed that she had managed to loose her heals at some point during the night and that they were no where in sight. The thought made her stop and think; she could not remember taking them off, or covering herself with a blanket. Ginny shook the confusion off. Either she had done it or Malfoy had, and as disturbing as the thought might be that he may have effectively tucked her in, at least she knew that he had behaved himself. Tired as she had been, Ginny did not think she would have slept through him doing anything nefarious.
At least she did not think so.
The question was, of course, if she had slept on the couch then where had Malfoy stayed? She could hardly imagine him curling up on her armchair.
Unfortunately, there was only one possible explanation.
She trod lightly and silently in the direction of her bedroom, wondering what she would say to the wizard if she did find him in there. There was a chance that he had simply left some time during the night but Ginny was sceptical of that. She doubted that Malfoy would have gone to the trouble of accepting her offer in the first place if he was not going to take full advantage of it. If Malfoy was anything like he had once been, then there would no way that he would think of leaving before he had at least used all her hot water and had a full cooked breakfast.
Of course there were far worse things that she could find once she entered the room. Malfoy might have passed out in the bath and drowned. Or he could have slipped while climbing out of the tub and cracked his head open. Either was possible since he had not looked especially steady on his feet last night.
Ginny shivered at the prospect, forcing herself to reach for the handle on her bedroom door. It slipped open with the barest ‘click’ and Ginny peeked around the edge. To her relief - as well as irritation - there was a distinctive large shape underneath the lilac sheets. Drawing her shoulders back, she crept inside, quietly closing the door after her.
Malfoy had not thought to close the curtains before going to bed, so the room was flooded with bright sunlight. It streamed over the bed, seeming to make it glow warmly. Ginny padded around until she was stood at the same side that Malfoy was occupying and looked down at him.
It was hard to believe that the man sleeping so peacefully in her bed with his cheek pressed tightly against the pillow was the same person she had grown up disliking so intensely. Long lashes brushed his cheeks, unruly strands of pale hair spread lay over his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted as he breathed deeply in sleep. He looked younger and, Ginny thought awkwardly, almost ethereal. The concept was so peculiar to contemplate that Ginny could hardly believe that she had been the one to think it. Malfoy of all people should never be able to appear ethereal. Only the dark circles around his eyes and several days’ worth of stubble growth spoiled the picture.
Looking at him now, Ginny could not help but wonder once again how he had come to be in his current situation. Freshly washed and dressed in Bill’s neat pyjamas, Malfoy looked far more like the teenager that she remembered from Hogwarts. She sighed and nearly reached out to brush the hair from his eyes only to snatch her hand back at the last moment. Mildly horrified by what she had been about to do, Ginny took a step back away from the bed, putting a safe distance between them in case her hand should decide to try and disobey her again.
Instead, she opened her mouth to call his name. No sound came however as she stopped herself. As irritating as it was to find him asleep in her bed, Ginny was conscious that his night had been as late as hers had been, perhaps even later. Undoubtedly, he needed to rest, and since while he was asleep Ginny knew she did not have to deal with any awkward conversations from him, she decided to let him stay that way.
Instead, she moved as quietly as she could, collecting together some clean clothes for work. It was not until she was bending down to try and pull out the drawer in the bedside cabinet that contained her underwear that her gaze lighted on the clock. Her eyes widened in horror as she realised what the time was.
12: Blood and Lazy Bones