Attention, Chapter 22
Title: Attention (22)
Rating: PG-15
Words: 1,553
Notes: Not beta-read; at this point, I just want to get the story finished and posted, and the delay of beta-reading is going to be an excuse to procrastinate. Enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-Two
'You'll send me an owl, right?' Ginny asked.
It was Friday, and Draco was scheduled to leave by Floo from Professor Snape’s office in ten minutes. The two of them were having a last snog in the broom cupboard off the entrance hall while the rest of the school had dinner.
'I'll try,' he said. 'But I doubt Mother would tolerate me sending owls to some random girl back at Hogwarts.'
'Random girl?' Ginny nearly screeched.
'I can't exactly tell her who you are,' Draco protested. 'Especially with the Pansy thing. Besides, you never know,' he joked, 'my father might have escaped Azkaban and be waiting for me at home.'
Ginny didn't smile. 'That's not funny,' she said.
'Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry,' Draco said, and kissed her gently on the forehead.
Just lust, my foot, Ginny thought, but felt nice all the same. 'So you'll write? Just once, at least. You can address it to Harry or something, pretend to your mother it’s cursed--'
'I'll try,' he said again. He made to open the door, but Ginny held him back.
'One more,' she said, and pulled his head down to meet his lips with hers. They'd gotten much better at kissing; certainly they'd had plenty of practice between lessons and in the evenings when both should have been studying. She slid her hands around the back of his neck and ran them down his shoulders; his hands, which had been clasping hers, stroked up her arms to her own shoulders, and then drifted almost casually down to her breasts.
In all previous snogs, Ginny had always brushed him off her breasts, with which he appeared to have an abnormal fascination. He was always staring at them, or at her hips, which she was perfectly happy to have him touch. Even her buttocks were available territory. But the breasts had always been off-limits.
Ginny knew that Draco was counting on this moment of parting to make her allow the touch, and he was right. She let out the smallest of moans as his hands rested gently on her breasts and began palming them. No one, not even Dean, had ever touched them that way. Draco knew what he was doing, it appeared (well, he was far from a virgin, and that was a topic Ginny tried hard not to think about), and delicately thumbed her nipples until she wanted to keen with pleasure.
She felt a boiling, rocking liquid heat explode below her stomach and gasped. Draco was suddenly pressing his pelvis roughly against hers, and she could feel his erection against her stomach. Ginny abruptly wanted very much to be naked with him. Draco's hands, still crushed against her breasts, were trembling.
'If only we had time...' he muttered in her ear.
Ginny then heard the clock chiming. It was five o'clock.
'You have to go,' she said dully. To have been brought so high up only to break it off...
'Yes,' he said, rather solemnly. Ginny thought he looked afraid. But it was only feeble wandlight that lit the broom cupboard, so she couldn't be sure.
Then Draco gave her an irrepressible grin. 'But now you know what you're missing,' he said, licking his lips lasciviously.
The moment was broken, and Ginny punched him on the arm.
'Go on,' she said lightly. 'Go. Have a good holiday. I'll see you when you get back.'
Draco gave her a final, light kiss and left the cupboard, shutting it behind him. Ginny sank onto a crate of cleaner and sighed.
Man, she was horny now. She glanced around, picked up her wand, locked the door, and dealt with her lust in the usual fashion.
On Saturday, the results of the elections were announced: to her delight and horror, her father was now the new Minister for Magic. Along with the paper came an owl from her parents, telling her that they were moving out of the Burrow for the time being, and to send all post to the Ministry. Ginny immediately scribbled a note back with congratulations and hopes for their safety, tied it to the owl's foot, and then climbed back up to Gryffindor Tower to spend some time with her friends.
It was easy, inside Hogwarts' walls, to ignore the rest of the world. Ginny spent most of Saturday down by the lake with Charlotte and Lisa, confessing that yes, Draco Malfoy was cute and yes, he'd once kissed her in the library but no, they were not dating.
They weren't, really.
After all, they'd never sat in the stands together at a Quidditch match, or gone to Hogsmeade together. They'd only snogged in nearly every empty classroom, broom cupboard, and abandoned corridor.
Although Ginny spent most of Saturday laughing with her friends, it made her sad inside, because she felt a bit like the small gap between them that had grown up in the past few weeks had widened to the point where their friendship was a sham. It worried her, too--these girls had been her only support during her very difficult second year, and to let something as fleeting as a boy come between them was really rather unfair.
Still, nothing could disguise the fact that increasingly that week, Ginny found herself alone in the library with a couple of fat tomes on Dementors while Charlotte and Lisa painted their toenails or curled each other's hair.
It was during one of these long, dull study sessions that Harry found her.
'I thought you were revising with Ron and Hermione,' Ginny said, as Harry, looking very pale, collapsed into a chair beside her.
'I was,' he said, 'and then I fell asleep.'
Ginny snorted. 'Was Hermione reading aloud?'
'Yes, but that's not why I came. I couldn't tell Ron or Hermione, but you'd understand...'
'Why? What's wrong?'
Harry was shaking. 'I had another dream.'
She sat up straight. 'Who is it? Dad? Bill or Charlie? Harry, what's happened?'
Harry shook his head. 'No, no one in your family. Ginny, I saw Draco.'
Ginny gaped at him. 'You're dreaming of Draco now?' She would have laughed but for his expression. 'I take it,' she added sourly, 'that they're not lustful boy fantasies.'
'No, of course not,' said Harry in an urgent whisper. He didn't even blush. 'And it was just the one, just now.... I saw... I saw Draco, and his father, and I was Voldemort... and Lucius was saying something about giving Draco over to me-to Voldemort-in exchange for something, I'm not sure what. And then Lucius started torturing him! Lucius was torturing his own son!'
Ginny's mouth had fallen open.. 'But-but I thought Lucius was still in Azkaban! They'd report it in the paper if he escaped... Dad's Minister now, he wouldn't stop the Prophet from reporting...' She trailed off. 'Would he?'
Something her father had always said to her came back: Politics is about compromise, Ginny, and I don't compromise well. It had always explained why he'd never been promoted--that is, until now, when he was at the very top. Now, maybe, he was having to compromise, and wasn’t doing it well.
'Do you think?' she asked Harry, feeling cold all over. 'Could Lucius have escaped, and my father ordered the Prophet to cover up? Or maybe,' she added, trying to find a way to absolve her father of guilt, 'Dad's not the one in control of the Prophet... plus he's new, and maybe he hasn't had time to sort things out...'
'I just don't know,' Harry said heavily. 'But why would I see a fake vision of Lucius and Draco? Voldemort wouldn't try to tempt me away again... like he did with Sirius...'
'Maybe he thinks if it worked once it might work again,' Ginny said. 'You do have a people-saving thing.'
'Voldemort is evil, not stupid,' said Harry dismissively. 'I'm not going to go running off alone to Malfoy Manor, if that's even where the dream took place.'
'Could it just be your imagination?' Ginny asked delicately. 'Does your scar hurt?'
'That's the thing,' said Harry, 'my scar hasn't been hurting for weeks now. It's like Voldemort's suddenly shut off the connection. No more twinges of emotion or pain, and then suddenly I had that vision--'
'But does it hurt?' Ginny pressed.
'No, it doesn't,' Harry confessed. 'But it could mean anything--'
'Well, you do sort of fancy him,' Ginny said delicately. ‘After all, he’s quite fanciable.’
Harry glowered at her, then rolled his eyes. 'All right, all right. You think it's just a normal nightmare?'
'Yes,' Ginny said firmly. 'Especially with Hermione reading history books out loud.'
That earned her a weak grin.
'You worry about all of us, don't you?' she persisted. 'Why should Draco be any different?'
'Yeah,' Harry mumbled. 'I have these awful dreams sometimes, where Voldemort has you and Hermione and Luna and Neville-and everyone, really-and I have to watch him kill you all one by one.' He blinked. Ginny looked away for a few seconds. When Harry spoke again, his voice was quite steady. 'Maybe Draco's now in that group.'
'You want to protect him too,' Ginny suggested.
'Yeah,' Harry said thickly. 'Yeah, I guess I do.'
But no owl post from Draco came at all that week.
Rating: PG-15
Words: 1,553
Notes: Not beta-read; at this point, I just want to get the story finished and posted, and the delay of beta-reading is going to be an excuse to procrastinate. Enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-Two
'You'll send me an owl, right?' Ginny asked.
It was Friday, and Draco was scheduled to leave by Floo from Professor Snape’s office in ten minutes. The two of them were having a last snog in the broom cupboard off the entrance hall while the rest of the school had dinner.
'I'll try,' he said. 'But I doubt Mother would tolerate me sending owls to some random girl back at Hogwarts.'
'Random girl?' Ginny nearly screeched.
'I can't exactly tell her who you are,' Draco protested. 'Especially with the Pansy thing. Besides, you never know,' he joked, 'my father might have escaped Azkaban and be waiting for me at home.'
Ginny didn't smile. 'That's not funny,' she said.
'Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry,' Draco said, and kissed her gently on the forehead.
Just lust, my foot, Ginny thought, but felt nice all the same. 'So you'll write? Just once, at least. You can address it to Harry or something, pretend to your mother it’s cursed--'
'I'll try,' he said again. He made to open the door, but Ginny held him back.
'One more,' she said, and pulled his head down to meet his lips with hers. They'd gotten much better at kissing; certainly they'd had plenty of practice between lessons and in the evenings when both should have been studying. She slid her hands around the back of his neck and ran them down his shoulders; his hands, which had been clasping hers, stroked up her arms to her own shoulders, and then drifted almost casually down to her breasts.
In all previous snogs, Ginny had always brushed him off her breasts, with which he appeared to have an abnormal fascination. He was always staring at them, or at her hips, which she was perfectly happy to have him touch. Even her buttocks were available territory. But the breasts had always been off-limits.
Ginny knew that Draco was counting on this moment of parting to make her allow the touch, and he was right. She let out the smallest of moans as his hands rested gently on her breasts and began palming them. No one, not even Dean, had ever touched them that way. Draco knew what he was doing, it appeared (well, he was far from a virgin, and that was a topic Ginny tried hard not to think about), and delicately thumbed her nipples until she wanted to keen with pleasure.
She felt a boiling, rocking liquid heat explode below her stomach and gasped. Draco was suddenly pressing his pelvis roughly against hers, and she could feel his erection against her stomach. Ginny abruptly wanted very much to be naked with him. Draco's hands, still crushed against her breasts, were trembling.
'If only we had time...' he muttered in her ear.
Ginny then heard the clock chiming. It was five o'clock.
'You have to go,' she said dully. To have been brought so high up only to break it off...
'Yes,' he said, rather solemnly. Ginny thought he looked afraid. But it was only feeble wandlight that lit the broom cupboard, so she couldn't be sure.
Then Draco gave her an irrepressible grin. 'But now you know what you're missing,' he said, licking his lips lasciviously.
The moment was broken, and Ginny punched him on the arm.
'Go on,' she said lightly. 'Go. Have a good holiday. I'll see you when you get back.'
Draco gave her a final, light kiss and left the cupboard, shutting it behind him. Ginny sank onto a crate of cleaner and sighed.
Man, she was horny now. She glanced around, picked up her wand, locked the door, and dealt with her lust in the usual fashion.
On Saturday, the results of the elections were announced: to her delight and horror, her father was now the new Minister for Magic. Along with the paper came an owl from her parents, telling her that they were moving out of the Burrow for the time being, and to send all post to the Ministry. Ginny immediately scribbled a note back with congratulations and hopes for their safety, tied it to the owl's foot, and then climbed back up to Gryffindor Tower to spend some time with her friends.
It was easy, inside Hogwarts' walls, to ignore the rest of the world. Ginny spent most of Saturday down by the lake with Charlotte and Lisa, confessing that yes, Draco Malfoy was cute and yes, he'd once kissed her in the library but no, they were not dating.
They weren't, really.
After all, they'd never sat in the stands together at a Quidditch match, or gone to Hogsmeade together. They'd only snogged in nearly every empty classroom, broom cupboard, and abandoned corridor.
Although Ginny spent most of Saturday laughing with her friends, it made her sad inside, because she felt a bit like the small gap between them that had grown up in the past few weeks had widened to the point where their friendship was a sham. It worried her, too--these girls had been her only support during her very difficult second year, and to let something as fleeting as a boy come between them was really rather unfair.
Still, nothing could disguise the fact that increasingly that week, Ginny found herself alone in the library with a couple of fat tomes on Dementors while Charlotte and Lisa painted their toenails or curled each other's hair.
It was during one of these long, dull study sessions that Harry found her.
'I thought you were revising with Ron and Hermione,' Ginny said, as Harry, looking very pale, collapsed into a chair beside her.
'I was,' he said, 'and then I fell asleep.'
Ginny snorted. 'Was Hermione reading aloud?'
'Yes, but that's not why I came. I couldn't tell Ron or Hermione, but you'd understand...'
'Why? What's wrong?'
Harry was shaking. 'I had another dream.'
She sat up straight. 'Who is it? Dad? Bill or Charlie? Harry, what's happened?'
Harry shook his head. 'No, no one in your family. Ginny, I saw Draco.'
Ginny gaped at him. 'You're dreaming of Draco now?' She would have laughed but for his expression. 'I take it,' she added sourly, 'that they're not lustful boy fantasies.'
'No, of course not,' said Harry in an urgent whisper. He didn't even blush. 'And it was just the one, just now.... I saw... I saw Draco, and his father, and I was Voldemort... and Lucius was saying something about giving Draco over to me-to Voldemort-in exchange for something, I'm not sure what. And then Lucius started torturing him! Lucius was torturing his own son!'
Ginny's mouth had fallen open.. 'But-but I thought Lucius was still in Azkaban! They'd report it in the paper if he escaped... Dad's Minister now, he wouldn't stop the Prophet from reporting...' She trailed off. 'Would he?'
Something her father had always said to her came back: Politics is about compromise, Ginny, and I don't compromise well. It had always explained why he'd never been promoted--that is, until now, when he was at the very top. Now, maybe, he was having to compromise, and wasn’t doing it well.
'Do you think?' she asked Harry, feeling cold all over. 'Could Lucius have escaped, and my father ordered the Prophet to cover up? Or maybe,' she added, trying to find a way to absolve her father of guilt, 'Dad's not the one in control of the Prophet... plus he's new, and maybe he hasn't had time to sort things out...'
'I just don't know,' Harry said heavily. 'But why would I see a fake vision of Lucius and Draco? Voldemort wouldn't try to tempt me away again... like he did with Sirius...'
'Maybe he thinks if it worked once it might work again,' Ginny said. 'You do have a people-saving thing.'
'Voldemort is evil, not stupid,' said Harry dismissively. 'I'm not going to go running off alone to Malfoy Manor, if that's even where the dream took place.'
'Could it just be your imagination?' Ginny asked delicately. 'Does your scar hurt?'
'That's the thing,' said Harry, 'my scar hasn't been hurting for weeks now. It's like Voldemort's suddenly shut off the connection. No more twinges of emotion or pain, and then suddenly I had that vision--'
'But does it hurt?' Ginny pressed.
'No, it doesn't,' Harry confessed. 'But it could mean anything--'
'Well, you do sort of fancy him,' Ginny said delicately. ‘After all, he’s quite fanciable.’
Harry glowered at her, then rolled his eyes. 'All right, all right. You think it's just a normal nightmare?'
'Yes,' Ginny said firmly. 'Especially with Hermione reading history books out loud.'
That earned her a weak grin.
'You worry about all of us, don't you?' she persisted. 'Why should Draco be any different?'
'Yeah,' Harry mumbled. 'I have these awful dreams sometimes, where Voldemort has you and Hermione and Luna and Neville-and everyone, really-and I have to watch him kill you all one by one.' He blinked. Ginny looked away for a few seconds. When Harry spoke again, his voice was quite steady. 'Maybe Draco's now in that group.'
'You want to protect him too,' Ginny suggested.
'Yeah,' Harry said thickly. 'Yeah, I guess I do.'
But no owl post from Draco came at all that week.