More Than One Way Home (6/7) - Draco/Ginny
Title: More Than One Way Home
Author: Vesica
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Draco/Ginny with hints of Ron/Hermione, Harry/Pansy
Summary: It hasn’t always been an easy road for them, but sometimes it takes getting really good and lost to find the way home again.
VI. Dance with me.
Girls were barking mad, Draco thought, the whole lot of them.
There’s no other way to explain how, after the fight to end all fights and a full hour of crying, Ginny scrubbed at the tearstains running down her cheeks with the back of her hand and offered a hesitant grin like nothing had happened.
“Well, that’s quite enough of that for one night. Don’t you think?”
She looked around, searching for where she’d dropped her school bag, and went to rummage through it. She finally found what she’d been looking for and turned to him, hands hidden behind her back.
“I don’t want to think about all that anymore.” With a wicked gleam in her eye, she held out her hands, showing him the long, silky hair ribbons she was entirely too old for but her mother insisted on sending her anyway. “Help me forget for a while?”
“Gin, I thought - Well, I assumed from your reaction…” He gulped loudly. “I thought that was a no.”
Ginny shrugged. “I just needed a little time to think about it. So I thought - and it’s a yes. A ‘Yes, please’ actually.”
He kept waiting for her to change her mind, but she didn’t make a peep as he cautiously helped her out of her clothes. Just kissed him long and deep before climbing into bed and laying back, waiting for him.
He quickly undressed and joined her.
His mind was reeling. Sure, this was his idea, but now that it was here for the taking, he had no idea how to go about this.
He looked so very confused that she tried to coax him along, reaching for him and pulling him to her.
After a few fiery kisses, he’d forgotten entirely why there were ribbons coiled neatly on one of the pillows, but she hadn’t.
“Come on then.” Her voice sounded so totally calm, and perhaps a little hopeful, that when she held her arm out to him, he didn’t hesitate. He gently took her hand and slipped the ribbon around her wrist, twisting it into a knot.
He tugged on the long ribbon tail, pulling her arm up above her head, all the while keeping a tight grip on a slippery fabric in case she jumped.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t even twitch when he suddenly stopped and the trailing tail fluttered across her bare skin. “Wait a second, aren’t these the hair ribbons your mother keeps sending you?”
“One and the same,” she answered coyly, tilting her head back to watch him.
“That is so very dirty,” he grinned and looped the ribbon through the bars of the headboard, securing it with a tight knot. “I love it.”
He did the same with her other wrist, carefully checking that the loops aren’t too tight and there was enough slack in the ribbons.
It felt like it’s been forever since last he said the words, but he found himself asking once again, “Are you sure about this?”
She grinned at him, eyes dark with desire and glittering with amusement. “Quite sure, unless you really are just going to stare at me all night because I’m really not into that level of masochism.”
Staring was the furthest thing from his mind and he worked hard to make that very, very clear to her.
And maybe the distraction did work. She didn’t have a single nightmare that night.
He knew because, hours later after her voice was worn down to a harsh whisper and when every muscle in both their bodies were sore and trembling and the ribbons had long since been thrown aside, she was still in his bed.
She stayed there beside him the whole night, head resting on his chest, lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Lying there beneath her, listening to her peaceful breathing, he realized the night had been something more than just kinky as all get out.
It was a grand gesture on her part - a way of saying more clearly than she could with words that she was choosing to trust him. She was trusting him to not get himself immediately killed, to take care of this heart she had offered him, and to try to find a third way to end this - a way that was best for them both.
He had that grand gesture very much in mind weeks later at the Graduation Ball, perhaps the last joyful occasion any of them could hope to have for a while.
He ignored the stunned stares of Slytherin and Gryffindor alike and walked right up to where Ginny stood. She was keeping Hermione company while they waited for Ron to stop pretending to talk with Harry and just ask Hermione to dance already.
He offered a shallow bow and held his hand out to her. “Ginny, dance with me?”
A million questions flitted across her face before she smiled, well beamed really, and dropped into a quick curtsey. She slipped her hand into his, a faint blush of pleasure staining her cheeks. “I’d love to.”
He danced beautifully, of course. She wouldn’t have expected anything less from someone of his upbringing. But still, she was stunned by how effortlessly he lead her and how her body responded automatically to his subtle cues.
He made good use of the empty floor, guiding them close, but not too close, to the edges of the crowd, enjoying the sight of their stunned classmates and her nearly apoplectic brother.
Even the teachers were goggling at them, all but one.
Draco wondered for a moment why McGonagall didn’t look at all surprised, but it was soon forgotten as Ginny leaned closer and whispered in his ear.
“Everyone is staring.”
“Obviously they’ve never seen two people dance before.”
She giggled and it’s such a carefree sound, so unlike the bleak and fearful mood hanging over the Isles these days that he couldn’t help but kiss her. As with so many of their kisses, what began innocently developed into something decidedly not, a kiss full of longing and promises to be fulfilled later.
She remembered where they were first, breaking the kiss and burying her head against his shoulder to hide her now full-blown blush. “Well, they’ve certainly never seen THAT before.”
Eventually the shock wore off and people returned to their conversations. As the first dance ended, other couples took to the floor.
Draco danced every dance with Ginny, neatly managing to avoid Ron who spent most of the Ball stalking around the edge of the dance floor, a murderous gleam in his eye, waiting for just the right time to pop Malfoy in the nose.
But after a few choice words and a wand-enforced threat from Hermione, he gave up, dancing a few dances with his girlfriend before she pitched a fit. But even on the floor, when he should have been paying attention to Hermione, he couldn’t stop scowling over her shoulder at Draco.
Draco never noticed a thing.
He was far too busy steering Ginny ‘round the floor, both of them leaving a trail of happy laughter in their wake.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
It was surprisingly mild for late November and it was under an unusually clear sky that Ron and Hermione renewed their vows.
They were outside the Burrow, beyond the side garden and just at the edge of the grove, on the exact spot where they’d said “I do” twenty years before.
They kept the ceremony was short and sweet and, just as they had the first time around and once again, the bride and groom paused at the start of the ceremony for a moment of silence in honor of those who couldn’t be with them - each guest thinking about the long, long list of lives lost in the most devastating war the Modern Wizarding World had ever seen.
Ginny slipped her hand into Draco’s as the Ron and Hermione repeated their vows, giving his hand a firm squeeze at the words “till death do us part”.
He squeezed back, knowing they are both remembering those five long years of the war, when they were both sure, in the dark moments, that the death part would be happening long before they ever got around to actually taking vows.
They were both so lost in their own thoughts that was a surprise when everyone around them broke into applause.
There was a moment of hesitation as they released each other’s hands, joining in the applause as Ron and Hermione walked down the aisle, hand in hand, once again joined in matrimony.
Molly had requested special permission to set up some magical tents on the lawn and, without a single word of protest, the Ministry had approved the request, various staff members volunteering to serve as security. Even now, the small band of wizards roamed the perimeter, monitoring the anti-Muggle wards.
The Ministry was always glad to help Arthur’s widow with anything she might need. For this event, celebrating the anniversary of one of her two remaining sons, there was nothing they wouldn’t have done. Mrs. Weasley was practically royalty to the Ministry.
In the days leading up to the event there were lots of little history lessons, officials telling secretaries too young to have taken part in the war that no family made a greater sacrifice than the Weasleys. Their tone was reverent, their eyes shiny with tears, recounting how the reports had come in one after another about the Weasley boys. It was important that these youngsters, the new blood of the Ministry, understood why anything Molly needed, no matter how big or small, would be seen to and that they continued the tradition from now until the day Molly joined her husband in whatever awaited.
The party made their way across the lawn. They didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside of the tents were cavernous. They’d all been rigged together to create one huge banquet hall with a large dance floor in the middle.
Draco and Ginny joined the reception line behind Harry and Pansy, Ginny nodding in response to her friend’s raised brow and unasked question.
Pansy smiled warmly before she turned to congratulate Ron and Hermione.
So much had changed in the intervening years and if Ron and Draco weren’t the best of friends, at least they’d come to the place where they didn’t actively try to kill each other in public.
Draco pumped Ron’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder. “Twenty years already? Well, I guess that’s what comes of marrying them right out of the cradle.”
Ron scowled, but Hermione laughed and hugged Draco. “Well, we couldn’t all wait forever. At least no one was despairing that Ron and I would never get married.”
Draco chuckled, “Tease all you like, but I made a killing in that betting pool.”
“I still don’t think it’s fair you managed to sneak in a bet on the date of your own wedding…Some of us had been playing for years, you know,” Ron grumbled.
Ginny poked her brother in the stomach. “Stop being such a sour puss. Besides, Draco and I raised a glass of ouzo in your honor in Greece, thanking you for your very generous contribution to our honeymoon fund.”
Everyone had a good laugh at that, well everyone except Ron, and the Malfoys moved aside to let others greet the happy couple.
All in all, it wasn’t a half-bad party, which was at least half again better than what Draco was expecting.
The food was excellent, even if they were seated with Pansy and Harry or so Draco whinged, only half joking, to his wife.
Time had mellowed the former archenemies as well and, much to everyone’s shock, the two men actually get along fairly well, even enjoying occasional pickup games of Quidditch together at some of the larger gatherings. At some point in the past, Harry had explained that life was too short by far to worry about the past and Draco seemed to be of a similar mind.
Draco was amazed that Ron the cheapskate has actually sprung for a decent band and said so, earning him a perfectly synchronized glare from Ginny and Harry.
Pansy, on the other hand, got champagne up her nose trying to swallow a laugh. Draco laughed at her, musing you can take the girl out of Slytherin but you can never really take the slightly mean-spirited sense of humor out of the girl.
Ginny spotted Luna across the way. “Oh my word, Luna! She managed to pop back from Bangladesh and her hunt for the arboreal yeti! Be right back!” and she was off, heading straight over to talk her best friend’s ear off.
A few brave couples found their way to the dance floor was the plates were being cleared, Dulcinea Potter among them, her latest unsuitable beau practically gluing himself to her.
“That offer of a spot of kidnapping still stands, Potter. I’m sure no one would miss her latest miscreant,” Draco offered, his eyebrows rising as the young wizard’s hands found their way to places they had no business being.
Harry sighed and forced himself not to look. Making a scene would only make Dulcie more attached to this latest tosser. “I might have to take you up on that. I swear she’s going to drive me prematurely grey.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Well, before you both get yourselves thrown in the brig, might I have a dance with my husband?”
Harry smiled and led Pansy to the dance floor.
Left to his own devices, Draco rose, silently creeping up behind his wife, still chattering away with Luna.
He cleared his throat, once, then again more loudly, until she turned to find him offering her a graceful bow.
He held out his hand, a hint of a smile dancing behind his eyes. “Ginny, dance with me?”
In an instant, she was back at Hogwarts, heart in her throat as Draco did what is quite possibly one of the bravest things she’d ever seen.
He’d walked right to her, as if he didn’t even see the stares or hear the whispers all around him.
Now, like then, the world narrowed and there was only him patiently awaiting her response and the wave-like whooshing sound of her pulse pounding in her ears.
She took his hand. “I’d love to.”
End Part VI of VII.
Jump to Chapter 1
Previous
Next
Author: Vesica
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Draco/Ginny with hints of Ron/Hermione, Harry/Pansy
Summary: It hasn’t always been an easy road for them, but sometimes it takes getting really good and lost to find the way home again.
VI. Dance with me.
Girls were barking mad, Draco thought, the whole lot of them.
There’s no other way to explain how, after the fight to end all fights and a full hour of crying, Ginny scrubbed at the tearstains running down her cheeks with the back of her hand and offered a hesitant grin like nothing had happened.
“Well, that’s quite enough of that for one night. Don’t you think?”
She looked around, searching for where she’d dropped her school bag, and went to rummage through it. She finally found what she’d been looking for and turned to him, hands hidden behind her back.
“I don’t want to think about all that anymore.” With a wicked gleam in her eye, she held out her hands, showing him the long, silky hair ribbons she was entirely too old for but her mother insisted on sending her anyway. “Help me forget for a while?”
“Gin, I thought - Well, I assumed from your reaction…” He gulped loudly. “I thought that was a no.”
Ginny shrugged. “I just needed a little time to think about it. So I thought - and it’s a yes. A ‘Yes, please’ actually.”
He kept waiting for her to change her mind, but she didn’t make a peep as he cautiously helped her out of her clothes. Just kissed him long and deep before climbing into bed and laying back, waiting for him.
He quickly undressed and joined her.
His mind was reeling. Sure, this was his idea, but now that it was here for the taking, he had no idea how to go about this.
He looked so very confused that she tried to coax him along, reaching for him and pulling him to her.
After a few fiery kisses, he’d forgotten entirely why there were ribbons coiled neatly on one of the pillows, but she hadn’t.
“Come on then.” Her voice sounded so totally calm, and perhaps a little hopeful, that when she held her arm out to him, he didn’t hesitate. He gently took her hand and slipped the ribbon around her wrist, twisting it into a knot.
He tugged on the long ribbon tail, pulling her arm up above her head, all the while keeping a tight grip on a slippery fabric in case she jumped.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t even twitch when he suddenly stopped and the trailing tail fluttered across her bare skin. “Wait a second, aren’t these the hair ribbons your mother keeps sending you?”
“One and the same,” she answered coyly, tilting her head back to watch him.
“That is so very dirty,” he grinned and looped the ribbon through the bars of the headboard, securing it with a tight knot. “I love it.”
He did the same with her other wrist, carefully checking that the loops aren’t too tight and there was enough slack in the ribbons.
It felt like it’s been forever since last he said the words, but he found himself asking once again, “Are you sure about this?”
She grinned at him, eyes dark with desire and glittering with amusement. “Quite sure, unless you really are just going to stare at me all night because I’m really not into that level of masochism.”
Staring was the furthest thing from his mind and he worked hard to make that very, very clear to her.
And maybe the distraction did work. She didn’t have a single nightmare that night.
He knew because, hours later after her voice was worn down to a harsh whisper and when every muscle in both their bodies were sore and trembling and the ribbons had long since been thrown aside, she was still in his bed.
She stayed there beside him the whole night, head resting on his chest, lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Lying there beneath her, listening to her peaceful breathing, he realized the night had been something more than just kinky as all get out.
It was a grand gesture on her part - a way of saying more clearly than she could with words that she was choosing to trust him. She was trusting him to not get himself immediately killed, to take care of this heart she had offered him, and to try to find a third way to end this - a way that was best for them both.
He had that grand gesture very much in mind weeks later at the Graduation Ball, perhaps the last joyful occasion any of them could hope to have for a while.
He ignored the stunned stares of Slytherin and Gryffindor alike and walked right up to where Ginny stood. She was keeping Hermione company while they waited for Ron to stop pretending to talk with Harry and just ask Hermione to dance already.
He offered a shallow bow and held his hand out to her. “Ginny, dance with me?”
A million questions flitted across her face before she smiled, well beamed really, and dropped into a quick curtsey. She slipped her hand into his, a faint blush of pleasure staining her cheeks. “I’d love to.”
He danced beautifully, of course. She wouldn’t have expected anything less from someone of his upbringing. But still, she was stunned by how effortlessly he lead her and how her body responded automatically to his subtle cues.
He made good use of the empty floor, guiding them close, but not too close, to the edges of the crowd, enjoying the sight of their stunned classmates and her nearly apoplectic brother.
Even the teachers were goggling at them, all but one.
Draco wondered for a moment why McGonagall didn’t look at all surprised, but it was soon forgotten as Ginny leaned closer and whispered in his ear.
“Everyone is staring.”
“Obviously they’ve never seen two people dance before.”
She giggled and it’s such a carefree sound, so unlike the bleak and fearful mood hanging over the Isles these days that he couldn’t help but kiss her. As with so many of their kisses, what began innocently developed into something decidedly not, a kiss full of longing and promises to be fulfilled later.
She remembered where they were first, breaking the kiss and burying her head against his shoulder to hide her now full-blown blush. “Well, they’ve certainly never seen THAT before.”
Eventually the shock wore off and people returned to their conversations. As the first dance ended, other couples took to the floor.
Draco danced every dance with Ginny, neatly managing to avoid Ron who spent most of the Ball stalking around the edge of the dance floor, a murderous gleam in his eye, waiting for just the right time to pop Malfoy in the nose.
But after a few choice words and a wand-enforced threat from Hermione, he gave up, dancing a few dances with his girlfriend before she pitched a fit. But even on the floor, when he should have been paying attention to Hermione, he couldn’t stop scowling over her shoulder at Draco.
Draco never noticed a thing.
He was far too busy steering Ginny ‘round the floor, both of them leaving a trail of happy laughter in their wake.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
It was surprisingly mild for late November and it was under an unusually clear sky that Ron and Hermione renewed their vows.
They were outside the Burrow, beyond the side garden and just at the edge of the grove, on the exact spot where they’d said “I do” twenty years before.
They kept the ceremony was short and sweet and, just as they had the first time around and once again, the bride and groom paused at the start of the ceremony for a moment of silence in honor of those who couldn’t be with them - each guest thinking about the long, long list of lives lost in the most devastating war the Modern Wizarding World had ever seen.
Ginny slipped her hand into Draco’s as the Ron and Hermione repeated their vows, giving his hand a firm squeeze at the words “till death do us part”.
He squeezed back, knowing they are both remembering those five long years of the war, when they were both sure, in the dark moments, that the death part would be happening long before they ever got around to actually taking vows.
They were both so lost in their own thoughts that was a surprise when everyone around them broke into applause.
There was a moment of hesitation as they released each other’s hands, joining in the applause as Ron and Hermione walked down the aisle, hand in hand, once again joined in matrimony.
Molly had requested special permission to set up some magical tents on the lawn and, without a single word of protest, the Ministry had approved the request, various staff members volunteering to serve as security. Even now, the small band of wizards roamed the perimeter, monitoring the anti-Muggle wards.
The Ministry was always glad to help Arthur’s widow with anything she might need. For this event, celebrating the anniversary of one of her two remaining sons, there was nothing they wouldn’t have done. Mrs. Weasley was practically royalty to the Ministry.
In the days leading up to the event there were lots of little history lessons, officials telling secretaries too young to have taken part in the war that no family made a greater sacrifice than the Weasleys. Their tone was reverent, their eyes shiny with tears, recounting how the reports had come in one after another about the Weasley boys. It was important that these youngsters, the new blood of the Ministry, understood why anything Molly needed, no matter how big or small, would be seen to and that they continued the tradition from now until the day Molly joined her husband in whatever awaited.
The party made their way across the lawn. They didn’t look like much from the outside, but the inside of the tents were cavernous. They’d all been rigged together to create one huge banquet hall with a large dance floor in the middle.
Draco and Ginny joined the reception line behind Harry and Pansy, Ginny nodding in response to her friend’s raised brow and unasked question.
Pansy smiled warmly before she turned to congratulate Ron and Hermione.
So much had changed in the intervening years and if Ron and Draco weren’t the best of friends, at least they’d come to the place where they didn’t actively try to kill each other in public.
Draco pumped Ron’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder. “Twenty years already? Well, I guess that’s what comes of marrying them right out of the cradle.”
Ron scowled, but Hermione laughed and hugged Draco. “Well, we couldn’t all wait forever. At least no one was despairing that Ron and I would never get married.”
Draco chuckled, “Tease all you like, but I made a killing in that betting pool.”
“I still don’t think it’s fair you managed to sneak in a bet on the date of your own wedding…Some of us had been playing for years, you know,” Ron grumbled.
Ginny poked her brother in the stomach. “Stop being such a sour puss. Besides, Draco and I raised a glass of ouzo in your honor in Greece, thanking you for your very generous contribution to our honeymoon fund.”
Everyone had a good laugh at that, well everyone except Ron, and the Malfoys moved aside to let others greet the happy couple.
All in all, it wasn’t a half-bad party, which was at least half again better than what Draco was expecting.
The food was excellent, even if they were seated with Pansy and Harry or so Draco whinged, only half joking, to his wife.
Time had mellowed the former archenemies as well and, much to everyone’s shock, the two men actually get along fairly well, even enjoying occasional pickup games of Quidditch together at some of the larger gatherings. At some point in the past, Harry had explained that life was too short by far to worry about the past and Draco seemed to be of a similar mind.
Draco was amazed that Ron the cheapskate has actually sprung for a decent band and said so, earning him a perfectly synchronized glare from Ginny and Harry.
Pansy, on the other hand, got champagne up her nose trying to swallow a laugh. Draco laughed at her, musing you can take the girl out of Slytherin but you can never really take the slightly mean-spirited sense of humor out of the girl.
Ginny spotted Luna across the way. “Oh my word, Luna! She managed to pop back from Bangladesh and her hunt for the arboreal yeti! Be right back!” and she was off, heading straight over to talk her best friend’s ear off.
A few brave couples found their way to the dance floor was the plates were being cleared, Dulcinea Potter among them, her latest unsuitable beau practically gluing himself to her.
“That offer of a spot of kidnapping still stands, Potter. I’m sure no one would miss her latest miscreant,” Draco offered, his eyebrows rising as the young wizard’s hands found their way to places they had no business being.
Harry sighed and forced himself not to look. Making a scene would only make Dulcie more attached to this latest tosser. “I might have to take you up on that. I swear she’s going to drive me prematurely grey.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Well, before you both get yourselves thrown in the brig, might I have a dance with my husband?”
Harry smiled and led Pansy to the dance floor.
Left to his own devices, Draco rose, silently creeping up behind his wife, still chattering away with Luna.
He cleared his throat, once, then again more loudly, until she turned to find him offering her a graceful bow.
He held out his hand, a hint of a smile dancing behind his eyes. “Ginny, dance with me?”
In an instant, she was back at Hogwarts, heart in her throat as Draco did what is quite possibly one of the bravest things she’d ever seen.
He’d walked right to her, as if he didn’t even see the stares or hear the whispers all around him.
Now, like then, the world narrowed and there was only him patiently awaiting her response and the wave-like whooshing sound of her pulse pounding in her ears.
She took his hand. “I’d love to.”
End Part VI of VII.
Jump to Chapter 1
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