♥ dragonsangel68 wrote "The Rules of Engagement" for ericahpfa 1/3 ♥
Title: The Rules of Engagement 1/3
Rating: NC17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Rated for graphic sexual situations
Summary: After accepting a foolish dare at a party Draco finds himself breaking the very rules he set for his own self preservation, and his life has been irreversibly turned upside down. He knows what he has to do to restore order to his once carefree life, but finding the strength is a challenge he appears not to be able to meet.
THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
PART ONE
Draco glanced around with an air of boredom. These parties were all the same and were beginning to be dreaded, rather than enjoyed. It was always the same people who attended: those not invited to the more prestigious Ministry events. They had started out as an effort to thumb their noses at the Ministry and their foolish policy about not indulging those of a once questionable background, but the shine had long since worn off. Nowadays, they were just poor excuses to come together and drink far too much Firewhisky, so that one woke up the following morning with no memory of the evening before.
Dissatisfied with the whole situation, yet unwilling to do anything to remedy his mood, Draco downed another tumbler of Odgen’s best and placed his empty glass on the table for refilling. After all, erasing the memory was what he had come for.
Blaise Zabini raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend. “Quite intent on wiping yourself out tonight, aren’t you?”
“There’s nothing else to do,” Draco snarled, his temper beginning to fray.
“Why don’t you go find yourself something to occupy your mind before you become incapable?” Blaise suggested with a hint of a smirk.
Draco cast his eyes around the room disdainfully. “I’ve shagged every last one of them and not one of them enticed me to go back for seconds.”
“Maybe so, but it’s far better than spending the evening conversing with your hand,” Blaise pointed out.
The blond wizard snorted derisively. “I think I’d rather use my hand than waste my time on any of those-“ His words dried up as a group of women entered the room. They were dressed for a ball, so he assumed they’d come from the Ministry Christmas Ball. “Well, well, well.”
“Perhaps your hand will have some company tonight,” Blaise whispered in his friend’s ear.
Draco smirked wickedly. “Indeed.”
The two men sat back and admired the new women from afar as they began to mingle with the partygoers. Both liked to examine what was on offer first, and then make their move. There were some older women, who were instantly struck from contention merely on their age - the men did have some scruples - and there one or two unfortunate looking women, who might have looked acceptable had they had more to drink. In the end, there were only a couple of possibilities.
“I’m going after that one,” Blaise said, pointing to a young woman with long dark hair, who looked as though she’d only just finished Hogwarts the summer before.
“Too young,” Draco mumbled.
“Never too young.” Blaise grinned nefariously. “What about that one?”
Draco frowned and tried to follow where Blaise was pointing. “Which one?”
“Over there.” Blaise tossed his head in the general direction of a group of women. “Green frock, thin, long legs… red hair.”
“That is a Weasley,” Draco pointed out firmly. “Do you not remember that family?”
“Mmm…”
“Dirt poor, freckles everywhere-“
“Well, we don’t know if they have freckles everywhere.”
Draco pulled a face at his friend. Even though he enjoyed the sport of bedding women, there were boundaries that even he wouldn’t cross. “We don’t want to know.”
“I dare you to find out,” Blaise challenged mischievously.
“Did you not hear me?” Draco growled. “I don’t want to know.”
Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. “I do, and I’m daring you to find out for me.”
“You’re not-“ Draco stopped when he noted that his friend’s expression was indeed serious, even if his eyes held a hint of mischief. “Fuck,” he hissed.
“That’s the idea.”
“I have my standards, Zabini.”
“Let’s have a look at the check list then, shall we?” Blaise made a show of holding on of his hand in front of him with the palm facing up and positioning his other hand over it with this index finger hovering just above his palm like a quill. “Attractive.”
“If you fancy red hair and freckles,” Draco muttered as Blaise’s finger made an invisible tick on his hand.
“Shaggable.” Blaise added another tick to his palm, ignoring Draco’s protest. “Is there anything else you need?”
“She’s a Weasley!”
Blaise shrugged. “So close your eyes and call her ‘Sweetheart’.”
“She’ll never go for it,” Draco pointed out, thinking he would be able to get out of the dare on that premise, considering everything else had failed.
“Take a look at her.”
Draco looked at her just in time to see her stagger backwards a little.
“She’s already half done. Another few drinks and she’ll be anyone’s.”
“Not all women are like that.”
“I’ll bet she is.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know you remember her from Hogwarts. Do you recall her reputation?”
“As a cock-tease?”
“If she was that hot to trot at school, there’s no way she’s still pure.”
“She could be,” Draco answered, knowing very well it was a weak argument. Every male student at Hogwarts knew that Ginevra Weasley was a sure thing for a good snog in their years at the educational institute.
“Are you taking the dare or not?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You could opt out.”
“I remember the alternative too well,” Draco replied acerbically. It was a childish game they’d played since before he could remember, and he’d only once refused a dare, because the alternative - a more than healthy dose of Veritaserum, so he wouldn’t be able to lie - was too revealing.
“In that case, why don’t I go and start to soften her up a bit,” Blaise suggested nefariously, pouring a fresh tumbler of Firewhisky and topping his own off.
“I have rules about shagging someone who’s comatose,” Draco reminded him.
“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll make sure she can still scream your name.” Blaise winked at the blond before striding across the room.
Draco sat back and watched his alleged friend ply the redhead with well-aged Firewhisky. He saw her face flicker with recognition, and then a rather false smile stretched her lips. Quite obviously, she remembered Blaise. Just as he thought he might actually get out of the dare due to her refusal to ‘play’ the game, she giggled lightly, and the speciousness of her expression morphed into one of genuine delight. Profanities were filtering through his mind, but remained unvoiced for the time being. When Blaise slipped his arm around her, and began to lead her in his direction, Draco knew the game was afoot.
“You remember my friend, Draco, don’t you?” Blaise said by way of introduction.
“How could I forget him,” she answered.
Draco eyed her with interest as he sipped his Firewhisky. Her voice, while she wasn’t quite slurring, sounded thick and unnatural. That aside, she had grown into quite an attractive woman, not that it enticed him to want to shag her at all, because she was still a Weasley. “Weasley,” he drawled, allowing a hint of a playful smirk to grace his lips.
“Malfoy,” she responded as she wobbled on her legs.
“I think you ought to sit down before you fall down,” Blaise suggested, guiding Ginny to the couch beside Draco.
She immediately began to move away from the blond, but her progress was halted when Blaise dropped into the vacant position beside her, effectively trapping her between them.
Draco had to smother a snort of laughter as her expression tried to harden in Blaise’s direction. She was far too inebriated for the look, which was probably deadly when she was sober, to hold any malice. “Don’t worry, Weasley, you’re safe with us,” he assured her.
“I think I should find my friends,” she said quickly, trying to extract herself from the sofa.
“Why don’t we just sit here and see if we can spot any of them,” Blaise suggested. “You know, I don’t think I can see anyone you arrived with.”
“Who are they anyway?” Draco asked feigning interest for the sake of conversation.
“Work colleagues,” Ginny muttered as she scanned the crowd. “They’re gone.”
“Not to worry,” Blaise said cheerily. “You can still have fun with us.”
Ginny shook her head emphatically. “No, I should go.”
“Nonsense, there’s no reason for you to leave,” Blaise countered. “Draco and I have been looking for some intelligent conversation all evening.”
Draco watched as she appeared to be waging some form of internal battle. He hoped, with everything he had, that she would decide to leave, so the dare would become void. As gentlemen, neither would stop her if she absolutely insisted on leaving. There was no fun in forcing a woman to do what she didn’t want to do and, as such, they never did, or at least Draco never did, he wasn’t entirely sure about Blaise, because he could be quite depraved at times. Her facial expressions were fascinating, and he could almost tell what side of the debate she was thinking about through them.
“You can’t go yet!” Blaise insisted just after he topped off her glass. “You haven’t finished your drink.”
“Oh-I really shouldn’t-“
“Rubbish! It’s a party. Drink up,” Blaise encouraged, taking a healthy mouthful of his own drink.
It really only took a few more minutes of encouragement before she appeared to settle in for the evening. At that point Draco had no choice but to join in the nonsensical conversation, so he could make a connection with the woman, before luring her into his bed. By the time Blaise gave him a sly wink as he slipped away from them to chase his own quarry, Draco had draped his arm over the chair above her shoulders, not that she’d noticed, and she was enraptured with him or so it seemed. He had a firm plan in place to prove he’d successfully completed the dare as well, because if Blaise didn’t believe him there would be hell to pay.
“Those Ministry Balls are getting more and more boring,” Ginny told him. “It’s the same old fuddy duddies every time.”
“Appalling,” Draco answered.
“It would be-” She paused to take a large mouthful of Firewhisky. “-so much better if you lot could come.”
“The Ministry doesn’t like us,” Draco conceded, smirking as her voice started to slur.
“They’re all bonkers!”
“I agree,” Draco whispered as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, making certain to brush her cheek ever so gently with his fingertips. It was a measured move that had always proven successful in the past.
“You have the most amazing eyes,” Ginny whispered, before looking utterly shocked with herself.
“So do you,” Draco returned in a husky voice. “They’re so warm.”
A blush crept up her face and she cast her eyes to her lap. “Thank you.”
Draco smirked, before gently placing a finger under her chin and raising her head so he could look into her eyes. “You’re welcome,” he whispered a mere fraction of a second before his lips brushed hers.
When she didn’t push him away, he brought his other arm around her, pulling her against his chest and engaging her lips once again, but this time in a more determined manner. He smirked against her mouth when she responded immediately, and then set about seeking permission to deepen the kiss. There was to be no disappointment this evening as she allowed his tongue to dance with hers and even moaned into his mouth when he stroked her tongue with his. In the next half an hour words had become an ancient form of communication for the pair as they tasted and tempted each other. Draco could feel himself getting worked up, but squashed the feelings, harshly reminding himself that he had a plan and that it most definitely didn’t include losing control.
“I think we should find somewhere a little more private,” Draco whispered in her ear as her hands started to tug at his shirt.
“Where?”
“Just hang on,” he instructed softly. Thankful that he’d at least watched the amount of alcohol he was consuming from the moment the dare had been laid, Draco confidently Side-Along Disapparated with the now wanton witch.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He groaned and rolled over, draping an arm over the other body in his bed. She was sound asleep and he planned to join her in just a few seconds. Draco didn’t think he’d ever felt so satisfied or exhausted, and it was all due to someone he’d never ordinarily consider touching. Who knew she could be so wicked in bed?
Of course, the fact that he had never meant to shag her was irrelevant now, but still the fact remained - he had not meant for things to go as far as they did. He’d had a plan to save himself touching the Weasley any more than necessary, but it had gone astray the moment he discovered she wasn’t wearing the knickers he’d planned to steal to prove his virility to Blaise. Just the sight of her lying on his bed, completely naked, sent a large surge of alcohol fueled blood directly to his groin, and he’d had his wicked way with her for several hours.
Sleep now… Shag her again when I’ve got more energy, he ruminated as his conscious thoughts faded to fuzzy fragments and sleep began to claim him in earnest.
Several things raced through Draco’s startled mind as he was torn from a deep slumber by a piercing scream and a blast of freezing cold air as the bedcovers were ripped from his body. The first was someone was being murdered; the second was that it might have been he who was getting murdered. Through bleary eyes and the hangover hell, Draco tried to figure out what was going on.
Weasley was standing beside the bed shrieking like a banshee with the blankets and sheets clutched to her like some form of security blanket.
“Come back to bed, woman, and for Merlin’s sake shut up,” Draco moaned as he reached for the distraught witch, intent on gathering her back to him and stealing some body heat.
It was precisely at that moment that Draco realized he’d made a tactical error. Her shrieking increased to the point where he thought it was quite possible that his ears might start bleeding. With his patience running low, and his head ready to split, Draco clambered from the bed to stand in front of her.
“Weasley, calm down,” he pleaded.
Draco jumped back as she flung her hand at his groin, but then realized she was merely trying to block her view of the area. It seemed his naked form was a great deal of her problem, or at least he hoped it might be as he scrambled around trying to find where she’d flung his boxers. After a few minutes he located his underwear, and then took several attempts at getting them on, almost falling over a number of times.
The moment his manhood was covered her caterwauling calmed back down to head-splitting shrieking, which was far better than the ear-bleeding punishment she had been dealing him. With caution uppermost in his mind, Draco approached her slowly, muttering calming words and hoping she wouldn’t strike out at him. He felt like simply shoving her out the door and climbing back into his bed with the pillow secured around his head to block out the noise, but when a woman woke up screaming like she was a move like that could be potentially problematic. There was only one option open to him at this point: calm her down.
He didn’t know if it was his words or if she was simply running out of breath - the latter seemed more likely, because he doubted she was registering his voice - but she began to lower her volume gradually. Draco relaxed when she stopped to heave a few deep breaths into her lungs. At least they would be able to talk reasonably now.
“How could you?”
Draco’s eyes snapped up, but before he began to splutter indignantly his brain engaged its self-preservation mode. “You weren’t complaining last night,” he drawled. “That is if you don’t count: faster, harder or fuck me now.”
“I-you-you sodding prick.”
“Now come on, love, that wasn’t what you were calling me last night,” Draco crooned, rather enjoying the way the color rose from her chest and flooded her face. “You enjoyed it, Weasley,” he teased with a wicked smirk.
“I was drunk.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you enjoyed every last minute of it, every single time.” Draco reached to stroke her cheek with his fingers, but she slapped his hand away. “You even told me I had an amazing cock.”
Her embarrassment slid from her features in a second and her eyes grew wide. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why not?” Draco asked with a sneer, keeping up with her change of mood easily. If there was one thing he detested, it was being told what he could and could not do.
“Malfoy, think about it logically for a minute,” Ginny pleaded. “Our families would kill us.”
“That doesn’t scare me,” Draco scoffed.
Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him and her eyes danced with mischief. “I have six older, big brothers who would take pleasure in making your death as long and painful as they could, and believe me, they’re very creative.”
“Yes, well- perhaps a vow of silence would be a good idea to protect both of us,” Draco agreed. There was no way he wanted to come into contact with any of her brothers, especially if they knew what he’d been up to with their baby sister.
“Good,” she snapped. “If you say anything to anyone, I will hunt you down and hurt you.”
Draco opened his mouth to respond haughtily, but his reply loitered on his tongue as she scooped up her belongings and all but ran from his room. After the door had slammed shut Draco ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He looked around the room and realized that apart from the bedclothes that were missing it was as if she’d never been here, and then he cursed loudly. Blaise would never believe he’d been successful without some form of trophy, and she’d taken off with all her clothes. Somehow, he just didn’t think that his friend would believe that Miss Innocent Weasley forewent underwear.
With little else to do, and still in desperate need of sleep, Draco dropped back onto the bed. He immediately noticed that the bottom sheet and pillow she’d slept on smelled like her. If he could get Blaise over here soon enough he could prove his success, but he’d worry about that after he’d caught up on some much needed sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco stomped up the stairs in Flourish and Blotts. He detested the second level of the bookstore, because it was filthy. If he wasn’t so weak, he wouldn’t be here, but he never could say ‘no’ to his mother and she knew exactly how to get him to bend to her wishes. It wasn’t that she was averse to shopping for herself, it was just that she detested the store for its filth as well, so he was often sent to pick up the tomes she wanted. To expose her delicate self to the dust alone would have sent her into hysterics and straight off to her women’s retreat for beauty therapy.
He rounded the corner and entered the last aisle, where the shop assistant assured him he would find the book he’d requested. His feet suddenly stopped as his brain moved into overdrive. The woman who had plagued his dreams for the past two weeks was right there, reaching for a book on the uppermost shelf. She wasn’t exactly in the position he had pictured her in countless times - riding him or writhing beneath him - but she was there and she hadn’t yet noticed him. Of course, the idea that he should just back away carefully occurred to him, especially after the way she left his flat the one and only time he got close to her, but the thought was interrupted with another: did she have knickers on today?
A swarm of Snitches took flight in his stomach as she slowly turned in his direction. There was no way he could anticipate how she’d react, nor was there any chance he was going to walk away, not after he’d done nothing but think about that night since she left.
The moment they locked eyes he knew she’d been thinking about him as well. Her posture was stiff and obviously uncomfortable, but there was something in her eyes that conveyed her desire clearly. Without a word Draco closed the distance, backing her up against the dusty shelves. She didn’t push him away or even tell him to leave her alone.
Their lips met in a heated exchange. There was nothing gentle or endearing in the union. In fact, it was more akin to two starving beasts feeding from one another. He could feel her nails digging into his back through his cloak and robes. It was as if she was afraid to let him go, lest he vanish. The heat between them was sizzling and Draco couldn’t help but react. His hands ran beneath her cloak, mapping the curves he’d spent so much time trying to remember. With just a little encouragement, one of her legs came up to wrap around him. This new position allowed him easy access to her upper thigh and to a place that he knew she appreciated attention. His fingers had just begun the journey up the milky flesh when approaching footsteps invaded his senses.
“Ginny? Are you up here?”
She instantly shoved him away from her. One look at her expression and he could see the panic beginning to flood her veins like some sort of toxic poison.
“Who is it?” Draco hissed.
“Hermione,” she replied. “I- I should go… I shouldn’t have- If she sees you…”
There was nothing he could do as she hurriedly straightened her robes and rushed from the aisle. Not considering who might hear him, or the consequences if someone did hear him, Draco cursed aloud and threw his fist into the nearest bookcase.
He heard Granger question Weasley about who had made the noise, and her reply that there was some old bastard in the last aisle who had been talking to himself and cursing like that the entire time she was up there.
Too irritated to be grateful to Weasley for covering for him, Draco snarled with frustration. He waited until all had fallen silent on the upper level of the store, and then he pulled his cloak tightly around himself before slipping down the staircase. His eyes, quite naturally, scanned the store for any sign of the redhead, who was responsible for working him into the state he was now in. Just as he reached the ground floor, he noticed her examining a book just a few stacks from the entrance to the store. Her eyes flicked over him, and then she quite deliberately turned away, leaving him with a view of her back. Disgruntled, Draco snarled in the back of his throat and slammed the shop door on his way out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There were four types of women in Draco’s life:
The first, and most important, was his mother, who commanded the utmost respect from him. Narcissa Malfoy was the only woman capable of getting Draco to do anything. He simply couldn’t refuse her.
The second group were his female friends without benefits. These women were mostly childhood friends and, while a great many of them were very attractive, to think about them in a sexual manner made his stomach roll uncomfortably. He did socialize with them at parties and balls, but he’s never considered taking one of them home for breakfast.
The third group consisted of his female friends with benefits. These were the women he could take to dinner and expect to have a semi-intelligent conversation with before jumping into bed with them. They all knew what he was like and expected nothing in the way of commitment from him. It was an unspoken arrangement that worked well for everyone involved, because these women weren’t the settling down kind anyway.
The fourth group was where his casual encounters landed. They never warranted an invitation to dinner and were only offered breakfast if they’d satisfied him sufficiently. Sometimes they didn’t even warrant a bed, if there was a solid wall or table handy and the atmosphere was right.
However, no matter where any woman was ranked, with the exception of his mother, he had one rule that he never broke: he never chased after them. In his opinion, he was good enough to have them chasing him and they did, so his energy would be wasted if he bothered.
Yet, here he was hovering in the corridor just outside the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It hadn’t taken him long to discover that she was a member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad - just a few carefully worded inquiries really. In the week since he’d bumped into her in Flourish and Blotts, she’d been on his mind constantly, even to the point that he’d not attempted to bed another woman, which was unheard of in his usually over-active social life. Somehow this Weasley woman had crawled under his skin and he craved another taste of her wicked sweetness.
The resolve to confront her that he’d had when he left his office was seeping away at an alarming rate and thoughts that he must be insane to have even contemplated coming here had started the moment he entered the Ministry. Never before had a woman given him cause to doubt himself. Yet here he was trying to talk himself into entering the very department where he knew he’d find her. The entire situation was ludicrous, in his opinion, but he still seemed unable to convince himself to move.
The sound of voices coming towards him from just inside the department forced him into the shadows. With no confidence in his convictions, Draco didn’t want to be seen by anyone who might report his presence within the department and, inadvertently, let her know he was here. As the voices drew closer he recognized one above all: hers. His heart started to hammer in his chest as they drew closer. Draco watched keenly from his position, only half hoping no one would notice him, seeing as she wasn’t alone, but at the same time desperately wanting to be noticed, if only to gauge her reaction. Luck was on his side, it seemed, because as they passed no one saw him and, more importantly, he overheard Weasley say that she was having lunch with her oaf of a brother, Ron.
Although he wouldn’t be able to see her, he knew she was simply going to lunch and would return in a while. Reluctant to hang around where someone might notice him, Draco decided to partake of some sustenance as well, and then come back, hopefully, in time to see her before she returned to her department. As he rode the elevator back to the Atrium, Draco decided to make his way to Diagon Alley. It was far better than choosing somewhere closer and having to tolerate the Muggles.
From the Atrium he Flooed directly to Diagon Alley - walking was most definitely a plebian mode of transport, in his opinion. As he entered The Leaky Cauldron he cast his eyes around for familiar faces hoping that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. It seemed just the old regulars were in a patronizing mood today, so Draco took a seat at the bar, confident that he would be able to eat quickly and return to the Ministry. When Tom came within earshot he ordered a shot of Firewhisky and the lunch special, without bothering to check what it was first.
The shot was just starting to warm his insides when a familiar voice floated through the old pub. Draco surreptitiously cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction the voice had come from. His first thoughts were confirmed when he spied red hair and freckles. There was just one problem: he saw two sets of red hair and freckles, one of them considerably less desirable than the other. A sense of self-preservation glued him to his barstool, because to get up and leave might have brought attention to himself. However, it wasn’t too difficult to overhear some of their conversation, because Weasley, the undesirable one, was still as loud as he was at Hogwarts.
Draco listened intently, not always able to hear the desirable Weasley’s response, but then for the most part the conversation was boring - mostly about their family, or so he presumed. About fifteen minutes after they sat down, Ron Weasley announced, rather crassly, that he had been suffering with an upset stomach all morning and would be back after he relieved himself for the umpteenth time since he awoke this morning. The face Draco was pulling only smoothed out once the door to the ‘little wizard’s room’ had closed with a desperate bang behind the man. The desired one was alone.
So as not to look too obvious, Draco slid off his stool and casually strolled over to her table. This was far better than hovering around the entrance to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It was simply a chance meeting and he wasn’t chasing her at all, or so he tried to convince himself in the time it took him to reach her side. “Weasley,” he drawled.
She looked slightly alarmed when she looked up at him. “Malfoy, what are you doing here?”
“Lunch,” Draco answered simply.
“Oh… I’m having lunch with Ron.”
“I noticed.”
“He’ll be back soon,” she insisted earnestly as her eyes glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the men’s lavatory.
“From what I heard, he’s going to be a while,” Draco informed her as he slid into the chair next to hers.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting down.”
“You can’t- If he sees you-“
“Believe me, Weasley, I don’t want that any more than you do.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Ah, the million Galleon question,” Draco drawled confidently.
“Malfoy, just tell me!”
“It’s simple really-“ Draco reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “-I want you.”
“Me?”
“For some reason I can’t quite put you out of my mind.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Draco allowed his fingers to trail up her thigh. “I’m perfectly serious, Weasley, and you can’t deny that we were good together.”
“I-well-we were both drunk,” she stammered.
“Not in Flourish and Blotts,” Draco pointed out.
A vivid rose-colored blush appeared from beneath the neckline of her robes and rushed up her chest, into her face. Draco knew he was pressuring her by the way she wouldn’t meet his intense gaze, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted her desperately. Besides, he was positive if she truly didn’t want his attentions he would be wailing in pain right about now, instead of sitting next to her, stroking her cheek in what appeared to be an absent manner.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” Draco whispered as his lips hovered over hers.
“Ron… work… I-“
Her excuses were cut short as he claimed her lips feverishly. For a moment she didn’t respond and he was a little worried, but then the little minx slipped her tongue into his mouth and he forgot to think about anything. His fingers wove through her silky tresses, tangling themselves and ensuring she wasn’t going to run away.
All of a sudden she began trying to pull away, and Draco had no choice but to release her a little or he’d end up hurting her.
“I heard a door… Ron-“
Draco cast a quick, rather panicked, glance in the direction of the men’s room and sure enough Weasley was standing there, thankfully with his back to them, talking to some old drunk. “I’ll see you-” His words dried up in his mouth as Weasley began to turn around. It was like one of those horrid dreams where everything was happening in slow motion and no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from happening.
A pair of hands started pushing him down towards the floor. Paralyzed with fear, Draco obeyed the insistent pressure and soon found himself staring at Ginny Weasley’s knees. He looked around at the floor he was crouched on and tried not to gag. The Leaky Cauldron’s staff certainly weren’t what one would call diligent in their duties. He shuddered to think exactly what his clothing was coming in contact with, especially his right knee, which was very slowly absorbing some mysterious fluid. There was one thing for certain: he would have to discard these robes when he got home.
He had to get out of here, but just as the thought surfaced in his brain a sharp kick landed in the small of his back. Weasley had returned to the table and had effectively trapped him with his abnormally large feet. Trapped! A sliver of fear began to snake its way up his spine. If he was caught there was no way he could talk his way out of it or even escape quickly.
Ginny sounded like she had recovered enough to appear normal, or normal enough that her older brother wouldn’t suspect she had a wizard between her legs. What he could hear of their conversation could only be of interest to Weasleys or those of limited intelligence and expiration from boredom was becoming a serious hazard after five minutes under the table. Draco just wished they’d finish their lunch and leave, so he could extract himself and work out exactly how he was going to get some time alone with her. From what he heard, she wasn’t even trying to expedite their departure. A frustrated growl sat in the back of his throat, unvoiced yet eager to be heard.
He needed to remind her that he was still here and he wanted to get out before he was discovered, because the longer he remained, the more chance there was of discovery and he really didn’t feel up to being tortured today. As his hand came up to rest on her thigh he felt her tense. A wicked smirk crossed his face as an equally wicked idea filtered through his mind.
With care, Draco started to gently stroke her inner thigh, climbing a little higher each time his fingers moved. At first, she tensed again, then she moved her leg away from his hand, and in doing so gave him greater access to the inside of her thigh. When she tried to move her leg back to its previous position, Draco strategically placed his shoulder in the way. His fingers continued their busy little trip up her leg until they reached her knickers. It was then that he received a stinging slap from her.
“Is everything all right?” Ron asked with concern in his tone.
“Yeah, it was-a- err-spider,” Ginny stammered unconvincingly.
“You killed it, didn’t you?”
Draco had to bite the side of his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Even he could hear the cold panic in Weasley’s voice.
“Yes, I think so,” Ginny answered.
“Just make sure,” Ron insisted, moving his legs as far away from his sister as he could.
Even though the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, Draco bit down harder on his flesh. He was only seconds from losing control. When Ginny’s head suddenly appeared beneath the table he sobered immediately. Her eyes were narrowed in a deadly glare.
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“And what if I don’t?” Draco whispered in return.
“I’ll tell Ron I was mistaken about the spider… I’ll let him it’s a ferret.”
“You wouldn’t?”
She smirked at him and disappeared.
Once again he found himself alone with the grimy underworld of the Leaky Cauldron’s floor. Draco could hear her reassuring her coward of a brother that there was no longer a spider under the table. He relaxed as much as he could in the position he was in, resting his arms on her legs, because he didn’t want to place his hands on the filthy floor. Every minute felt like an hour to him, and his legs were slowly, but surely, going numb. With nothing else to occupy his time, Draco began unconsciously trailing his fingers over her legs.
The next thing he knew he was cradling his hand, trying desperately not to cry out in pain and alert anyone else to his presence. She had pinched him when he’d allowed his hand to wander too high. He was going to make her pay for that vicious little swipe, if he managed to escape in one piece.
A short time later the four feet around him began to move. Draco had just breathed a sigh of relief when one of the feet connected firmly with the small of his back. “Fuck,” he hissed with tears brimming in his eyes.
“What was that?” Ron asked.
“I kicked the table,” Ginny answered quickly.
Draco held still, his heart hammering in his chest, just waiting for Weasley to stick his head under the table and discover his presence.
“Tables don’t curse,” Ron pointed out.
“Curse?” Ginny laughed. “Ronald, you’re hearing things!”
As their voices grew further away, Draco relaxed. He waited until he could no longer see their feet and then he scrambled out from under the table. When he stood up, Draco couldn’t quite believe the state of his clothes. Some indescribable sludge was slowly running off his pants and he smelled like he’d rolled in something dead. Repulsed, Draco sent a hard glare in the direction of the bar.
“You need to clean the floor,” Draco snarled, unable to help himself from commenting.
The only acknowledgement he received was a disinterested glance from Tom, the publican.
With a snarl Draco stalked towards the Diagon Alley exit. His hand had just landed on the door handle when it was wrenched out of his grasp. An anxious looking Ginny Weasley almost bowled him over as she burst into the pub.
“Weasley, slow down,” Draco grunted as he caught her by the shoulders.
“Oh-you’re here- I got rid of Ron,” she stammered. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it was safe.”
“Your brother is gone?”
She nodded. “Yes, I told him I left something at the table.”
“Good,” Draco drawled. “You and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Unfinished business? No, I have to get back to work.”
Rather than argue the point with words, Draco advanced on her until he’d back her up against the cold stone wall of the pub. His hands cupped her face and held it in position as he poured every ounce of heat he possessed into one kiss. At first she didn’t respond, but then he could feel her melting into him. When her tongue started its slow exotic dance with his, Draco could feel his temperature rising. He had to have her again. To deny himself would have been like denying one oxygen.
“Now, should we find somewhere to finish our business?” Draco whispered into her ear.
“I-I can’t.”
To Draco’s ears, she sounded genuinely disappointed through her erratic breathing. He’d had a definite effect on her, so now it was time to exploit the fact. “I insist.”
“No.” She pushed against his chest, making him take a step back. “I have to get back to work.”
Draco masked his disappointment while he tried to think of a way to get her to succumb to his charm. Of course, the fact that he had her in his arms now and didn’t want to let her go was overriding his thoughts, but she was insistent about returning to work. “Can’t you take the afternoon off?”
“I have an important meeting. If I don’t go back, they’ll think something happened to me,” Ginny replied.
He couldn’t deny that he could see the logic in her argument, and the last thing he needed was some sort of Ministry ‘witch’ hunt as they tried to locate her. “Tonight then?”
“Where?”
“Meet me on the steps of Gringott’s at five o’clock.”
“All right, but where are we going to go-“
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of somewhere.” He knew they couldn’t be seen together. It was all right at a drunken party for a friend to dare him to shag her, but this revisiting thing was not considered acceptable for a casual encounter, which is what she was, or so he told himself.
She nodded. “I should go.”
Draco followed her out to the public Floos in Diagon Alley. As usual, the shopping district was overrun with people, and it was quite possible that they could go unnoticed in the throngs, despite the fact that they both belonged to two very distinctive families.
Ginny was digging around her handbag, obviously for her stash of Floo powder, as they walked. Just as she reached to public hearth, Draco reached out and grabbed her arm, drawing her back to him. His actions were reckless, but he didn’t give the consequences a second thought as his lips once again connected with hers in a sense of urgency. He simply didn’t want to let her go right now or, if he was completely honest, in the foreseeable future.
Her hands pushed against his chest with more power than he thought her small frame possible of possessing.
“Not here! We could be seen,” she whispered harshly.
“I just-“
Ginny shook her head. “I’ll see you later.”
“Oi! Is he bothering you, Ginny?”
Draco’s heart immediately tried to jump out his chest. She had relatives everywhere. How could he have forgotten that fact?
She groaned and sighed heavily, before turning to face George. “No, it’s all right. I dropped something, and Malfoy was just returning it.”
George eyed him up and down with an unreadable expression. “That better had be all it was,” he warned.
“How utterly charming,” Draco declared pompously. “I perform a gentlemanly act, and this is the thanks I receive.”
“Just bugger off and leave her alone,” George growled.
Draco sneered at the lanky man with ginger hair before turning on his heel and moving into the crowds of people flowing into Diagon Alley. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. Since when did he put his life at risk for a woman? After tonight he vowed to tell her that he couldn’t continue this foolishness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
( The Rules of Engagement 2/3 )
( The Rules of Engagement 3/3 )
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive? Something silly, having them sneaking about and almost getting caught by others would be fun. Not terribly fitting with the Ides thingy, but could a little!
The tone/mood of the fic: Naughty
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: I would love him getting totally frustrated!
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: G-NC17
Canon or AU? Either, I'm easy. :)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Nothing comes to mind.
Rating: NC17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Rated for graphic sexual situations
Summary: After accepting a foolish dare at a party Draco finds himself breaking the very rules he set for his own self preservation, and his life has been irreversibly turned upside down. He knows what he has to do to restore order to his once carefree life, but finding the strength is a challenge he appears not to be able to meet.
THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
PART ONE
Draco glanced around with an air of boredom. These parties were all the same and were beginning to be dreaded, rather than enjoyed. It was always the same people who attended: those not invited to the more prestigious Ministry events. They had started out as an effort to thumb their noses at the Ministry and their foolish policy about not indulging those of a once questionable background, but the shine had long since worn off. Nowadays, they were just poor excuses to come together and drink far too much Firewhisky, so that one woke up the following morning with no memory of the evening before.
Dissatisfied with the whole situation, yet unwilling to do anything to remedy his mood, Draco downed another tumbler of Odgen’s best and placed his empty glass on the table for refilling. After all, erasing the memory was what he had come for.
Blaise Zabini raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend. “Quite intent on wiping yourself out tonight, aren’t you?”
“There’s nothing else to do,” Draco snarled, his temper beginning to fray.
“Why don’t you go find yourself something to occupy your mind before you become incapable?” Blaise suggested with a hint of a smirk.
Draco cast his eyes around the room disdainfully. “I’ve shagged every last one of them and not one of them enticed me to go back for seconds.”
“Maybe so, but it’s far better than spending the evening conversing with your hand,” Blaise pointed out.
The blond wizard snorted derisively. “I think I’d rather use my hand than waste my time on any of those-“ His words dried up as a group of women entered the room. They were dressed for a ball, so he assumed they’d come from the Ministry Christmas Ball. “Well, well, well.”
“Perhaps your hand will have some company tonight,” Blaise whispered in his friend’s ear.
Draco smirked wickedly. “Indeed.”
The two men sat back and admired the new women from afar as they began to mingle with the partygoers. Both liked to examine what was on offer first, and then make their move. There were some older women, who were instantly struck from contention merely on their age - the men did have some scruples - and there one or two unfortunate looking women, who might have looked acceptable had they had more to drink. In the end, there were only a couple of possibilities.
“I’m going after that one,” Blaise said, pointing to a young woman with long dark hair, who looked as though she’d only just finished Hogwarts the summer before.
“Too young,” Draco mumbled.
“Never too young.” Blaise grinned nefariously. “What about that one?”
Draco frowned and tried to follow where Blaise was pointing. “Which one?”
“Over there.” Blaise tossed his head in the general direction of a group of women. “Green frock, thin, long legs… red hair.”
“That is a Weasley,” Draco pointed out firmly. “Do you not remember that family?”
“Mmm…”
“Dirt poor, freckles everywhere-“
“Well, we don’t know if they have freckles everywhere.”
Draco pulled a face at his friend. Even though he enjoyed the sport of bedding women, there were boundaries that even he wouldn’t cross. “We don’t want to know.”
“I dare you to find out,” Blaise challenged mischievously.
“Did you not hear me?” Draco growled. “I don’t want to know.”
Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. “I do, and I’m daring you to find out for me.”
“You’re not-“ Draco stopped when he noted that his friend’s expression was indeed serious, even if his eyes held a hint of mischief. “Fuck,” he hissed.
“That’s the idea.”
“I have my standards, Zabini.”
“Let’s have a look at the check list then, shall we?” Blaise made a show of holding on of his hand in front of him with the palm facing up and positioning his other hand over it with this index finger hovering just above his palm like a quill. “Attractive.”
“If you fancy red hair and freckles,” Draco muttered as Blaise’s finger made an invisible tick on his hand.
“Shaggable.” Blaise added another tick to his palm, ignoring Draco’s protest. “Is there anything else you need?”
“She’s a Weasley!”
Blaise shrugged. “So close your eyes and call her ‘Sweetheart’.”
“She’ll never go for it,” Draco pointed out, thinking he would be able to get out of the dare on that premise, considering everything else had failed.
“Take a look at her.”
Draco looked at her just in time to see her stagger backwards a little.
“She’s already half done. Another few drinks and she’ll be anyone’s.”
“Not all women are like that.”
“I’ll bet she is.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know you remember her from Hogwarts. Do you recall her reputation?”
“As a cock-tease?”
“If she was that hot to trot at school, there’s no way she’s still pure.”
“She could be,” Draco answered, knowing very well it was a weak argument. Every male student at Hogwarts knew that Ginevra Weasley was a sure thing for a good snog in their years at the educational institute.
“Are you taking the dare or not?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You could opt out.”
“I remember the alternative too well,” Draco replied acerbically. It was a childish game they’d played since before he could remember, and he’d only once refused a dare, because the alternative - a more than healthy dose of Veritaserum, so he wouldn’t be able to lie - was too revealing.
“In that case, why don’t I go and start to soften her up a bit,” Blaise suggested nefariously, pouring a fresh tumbler of Firewhisky and topping his own off.
“I have rules about shagging someone who’s comatose,” Draco reminded him.
“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll make sure she can still scream your name.” Blaise winked at the blond before striding across the room.
Draco sat back and watched his alleged friend ply the redhead with well-aged Firewhisky. He saw her face flicker with recognition, and then a rather false smile stretched her lips. Quite obviously, she remembered Blaise. Just as he thought he might actually get out of the dare due to her refusal to ‘play’ the game, she giggled lightly, and the speciousness of her expression morphed into one of genuine delight. Profanities were filtering through his mind, but remained unvoiced for the time being. When Blaise slipped his arm around her, and began to lead her in his direction, Draco knew the game was afoot.
“You remember my friend, Draco, don’t you?” Blaise said by way of introduction.
“How could I forget him,” she answered.
Draco eyed her with interest as he sipped his Firewhisky. Her voice, while she wasn’t quite slurring, sounded thick and unnatural. That aside, she had grown into quite an attractive woman, not that it enticed him to want to shag her at all, because she was still a Weasley. “Weasley,” he drawled, allowing a hint of a playful smirk to grace his lips.
“Malfoy,” she responded as she wobbled on her legs.
“I think you ought to sit down before you fall down,” Blaise suggested, guiding Ginny to the couch beside Draco.
She immediately began to move away from the blond, but her progress was halted when Blaise dropped into the vacant position beside her, effectively trapping her between them.
Draco had to smother a snort of laughter as her expression tried to harden in Blaise’s direction. She was far too inebriated for the look, which was probably deadly when she was sober, to hold any malice. “Don’t worry, Weasley, you’re safe with us,” he assured her.
“I think I should find my friends,” she said quickly, trying to extract herself from the sofa.
“Why don’t we just sit here and see if we can spot any of them,” Blaise suggested. “You know, I don’t think I can see anyone you arrived with.”
“Who are they anyway?” Draco asked feigning interest for the sake of conversation.
“Work colleagues,” Ginny muttered as she scanned the crowd. “They’re gone.”
“Not to worry,” Blaise said cheerily. “You can still have fun with us.”
Ginny shook her head emphatically. “No, I should go.”
“Nonsense, there’s no reason for you to leave,” Blaise countered. “Draco and I have been looking for some intelligent conversation all evening.”
Draco watched as she appeared to be waging some form of internal battle. He hoped, with everything he had, that she would decide to leave, so the dare would become void. As gentlemen, neither would stop her if she absolutely insisted on leaving. There was no fun in forcing a woman to do what she didn’t want to do and, as such, they never did, or at least Draco never did, he wasn’t entirely sure about Blaise, because he could be quite depraved at times. Her facial expressions were fascinating, and he could almost tell what side of the debate she was thinking about through them.
“You can’t go yet!” Blaise insisted just after he topped off her glass. “You haven’t finished your drink.”
“Oh-I really shouldn’t-“
“Rubbish! It’s a party. Drink up,” Blaise encouraged, taking a healthy mouthful of his own drink.
It really only took a few more minutes of encouragement before she appeared to settle in for the evening. At that point Draco had no choice but to join in the nonsensical conversation, so he could make a connection with the woman, before luring her into his bed. By the time Blaise gave him a sly wink as he slipped away from them to chase his own quarry, Draco had draped his arm over the chair above her shoulders, not that she’d noticed, and she was enraptured with him or so it seemed. He had a firm plan in place to prove he’d successfully completed the dare as well, because if Blaise didn’t believe him there would be hell to pay.
“Those Ministry Balls are getting more and more boring,” Ginny told him. “It’s the same old fuddy duddies every time.”
“Appalling,” Draco answered.
“It would be-” She paused to take a large mouthful of Firewhisky. “-so much better if you lot could come.”
“The Ministry doesn’t like us,” Draco conceded, smirking as her voice started to slur.
“They’re all bonkers!”
“I agree,” Draco whispered as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, making certain to brush her cheek ever so gently with his fingertips. It was a measured move that had always proven successful in the past.
“You have the most amazing eyes,” Ginny whispered, before looking utterly shocked with herself.
“So do you,” Draco returned in a husky voice. “They’re so warm.”
A blush crept up her face and she cast her eyes to her lap. “Thank you.”
Draco smirked, before gently placing a finger under her chin and raising her head so he could look into her eyes. “You’re welcome,” he whispered a mere fraction of a second before his lips brushed hers.
When she didn’t push him away, he brought his other arm around her, pulling her against his chest and engaging her lips once again, but this time in a more determined manner. He smirked against her mouth when she responded immediately, and then set about seeking permission to deepen the kiss. There was to be no disappointment this evening as she allowed his tongue to dance with hers and even moaned into his mouth when he stroked her tongue with his. In the next half an hour words had become an ancient form of communication for the pair as they tasted and tempted each other. Draco could feel himself getting worked up, but squashed the feelings, harshly reminding himself that he had a plan and that it most definitely didn’t include losing control.
“I think we should find somewhere a little more private,” Draco whispered in her ear as her hands started to tug at his shirt.
“Where?”
“Just hang on,” he instructed softly. Thankful that he’d at least watched the amount of alcohol he was consuming from the moment the dare had been laid, Draco confidently Side-Along Disapparated with the now wanton witch.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He groaned and rolled over, draping an arm over the other body in his bed. She was sound asleep and he planned to join her in just a few seconds. Draco didn’t think he’d ever felt so satisfied or exhausted, and it was all due to someone he’d never ordinarily consider touching. Who knew she could be so wicked in bed?
Of course, the fact that he had never meant to shag her was irrelevant now, but still the fact remained - he had not meant for things to go as far as they did. He’d had a plan to save himself touching the Weasley any more than necessary, but it had gone astray the moment he discovered she wasn’t wearing the knickers he’d planned to steal to prove his virility to Blaise. Just the sight of her lying on his bed, completely naked, sent a large surge of alcohol fueled blood directly to his groin, and he’d had his wicked way with her for several hours.
Sleep now… Shag her again when I’ve got more energy, he ruminated as his conscious thoughts faded to fuzzy fragments and sleep began to claim him in earnest.
Several things raced through Draco’s startled mind as he was torn from a deep slumber by a piercing scream and a blast of freezing cold air as the bedcovers were ripped from his body. The first was someone was being murdered; the second was that it might have been he who was getting murdered. Through bleary eyes and the hangover hell, Draco tried to figure out what was going on.
Weasley was standing beside the bed shrieking like a banshee with the blankets and sheets clutched to her like some form of security blanket.
“Come back to bed, woman, and for Merlin’s sake shut up,” Draco moaned as he reached for the distraught witch, intent on gathering her back to him and stealing some body heat.
It was precisely at that moment that Draco realized he’d made a tactical error. Her shrieking increased to the point where he thought it was quite possible that his ears might start bleeding. With his patience running low, and his head ready to split, Draco clambered from the bed to stand in front of her.
“Weasley, calm down,” he pleaded.
Draco jumped back as she flung her hand at his groin, but then realized she was merely trying to block her view of the area. It seemed his naked form was a great deal of her problem, or at least he hoped it might be as he scrambled around trying to find where she’d flung his boxers. After a few minutes he located his underwear, and then took several attempts at getting them on, almost falling over a number of times.
The moment his manhood was covered her caterwauling calmed back down to head-splitting shrieking, which was far better than the ear-bleeding punishment she had been dealing him. With caution uppermost in his mind, Draco approached her slowly, muttering calming words and hoping she wouldn’t strike out at him. He felt like simply shoving her out the door and climbing back into his bed with the pillow secured around his head to block out the noise, but when a woman woke up screaming like she was a move like that could be potentially problematic. There was only one option open to him at this point: calm her down.
He didn’t know if it was his words or if she was simply running out of breath - the latter seemed more likely, because he doubted she was registering his voice - but she began to lower her volume gradually. Draco relaxed when she stopped to heave a few deep breaths into her lungs. At least they would be able to talk reasonably now.
“How could you?”
Draco’s eyes snapped up, but before he began to splutter indignantly his brain engaged its self-preservation mode. “You weren’t complaining last night,” he drawled. “That is if you don’t count: faster, harder or fuck me now.”
“I-you-you sodding prick.”
“Now come on, love, that wasn’t what you were calling me last night,” Draco crooned, rather enjoying the way the color rose from her chest and flooded her face. “You enjoyed it, Weasley,” he teased with a wicked smirk.
“I was drunk.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you enjoyed every last minute of it, every single time.” Draco reached to stroke her cheek with his fingers, but she slapped his hand away. “You even told me I had an amazing cock.”
Her embarrassment slid from her features in a second and her eyes grew wide. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why not?” Draco asked with a sneer, keeping up with her change of mood easily. If there was one thing he detested, it was being told what he could and could not do.
“Malfoy, think about it logically for a minute,” Ginny pleaded. “Our families would kill us.”
“That doesn’t scare me,” Draco scoffed.
Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him and her eyes danced with mischief. “I have six older, big brothers who would take pleasure in making your death as long and painful as they could, and believe me, they’re very creative.”
“Yes, well- perhaps a vow of silence would be a good idea to protect both of us,” Draco agreed. There was no way he wanted to come into contact with any of her brothers, especially if they knew what he’d been up to with their baby sister.
“Good,” she snapped. “If you say anything to anyone, I will hunt you down and hurt you.”
Draco opened his mouth to respond haughtily, but his reply loitered on his tongue as she scooped up her belongings and all but ran from his room. After the door had slammed shut Draco ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He looked around the room and realized that apart from the bedclothes that were missing it was as if she’d never been here, and then he cursed loudly. Blaise would never believe he’d been successful without some form of trophy, and she’d taken off with all her clothes. Somehow, he just didn’t think that his friend would believe that Miss Innocent Weasley forewent underwear.
With little else to do, and still in desperate need of sleep, Draco dropped back onto the bed. He immediately noticed that the bottom sheet and pillow she’d slept on smelled like her. If he could get Blaise over here soon enough he could prove his success, but he’d worry about that after he’d caught up on some much needed sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco stomped up the stairs in Flourish and Blotts. He detested the second level of the bookstore, because it was filthy. If he wasn’t so weak, he wouldn’t be here, but he never could say ‘no’ to his mother and she knew exactly how to get him to bend to her wishes. It wasn’t that she was averse to shopping for herself, it was just that she detested the store for its filth as well, so he was often sent to pick up the tomes she wanted. To expose her delicate self to the dust alone would have sent her into hysterics and straight off to her women’s retreat for beauty therapy.
He rounded the corner and entered the last aisle, where the shop assistant assured him he would find the book he’d requested. His feet suddenly stopped as his brain moved into overdrive. The woman who had plagued his dreams for the past two weeks was right there, reaching for a book on the uppermost shelf. She wasn’t exactly in the position he had pictured her in countless times - riding him or writhing beneath him - but she was there and she hadn’t yet noticed him. Of course, the idea that he should just back away carefully occurred to him, especially after the way she left his flat the one and only time he got close to her, but the thought was interrupted with another: did she have knickers on today?
A swarm of Snitches took flight in his stomach as she slowly turned in his direction. There was no way he could anticipate how she’d react, nor was there any chance he was going to walk away, not after he’d done nothing but think about that night since she left.
The moment they locked eyes he knew she’d been thinking about him as well. Her posture was stiff and obviously uncomfortable, but there was something in her eyes that conveyed her desire clearly. Without a word Draco closed the distance, backing her up against the dusty shelves. She didn’t push him away or even tell him to leave her alone.
Their lips met in a heated exchange. There was nothing gentle or endearing in the union. In fact, it was more akin to two starving beasts feeding from one another. He could feel her nails digging into his back through his cloak and robes. It was as if she was afraid to let him go, lest he vanish. The heat between them was sizzling and Draco couldn’t help but react. His hands ran beneath her cloak, mapping the curves he’d spent so much time trying to remember. With just a little encouragement, one of her legs came up to wrap around him. This new position allowed him easy access to her upper thigh and to a place that he knew she appreciated attention. His fingers had just begun the journey up the milky flesh when approaching footsteps invaded his senses.
“Ginny? Are you up here?”
She instantly shoved him away from her. One look at her expression and he could see the panic beginning to flood her veins like some sort of toxic poison.
“Who is it?” Draco hissed.
“Hermione,” she replied. “I- I should go… I shouldn’t have- If she sees you…”
There was nothing he could do as she hurriedly straightened her robes and rushed from the aisle. Not considering who might hear him, or the consequences if someone did hear him, Draco cursed aloud and threw his fist into the nearest bookcase.
He heard Granger question Weasley about who had made the noise, and her reply that there was some old bastard in the last aisle who had been talking to himself and cursing like that the entire time she was up there.
Too irritated to be grateful to Weasley for covering for him, Draco snarled with frustration. He waited until all had fallen silent on the upper level of the store, and then he pulled his cloak tightly around himself before slipping down the staircase. His eyes, quite naturally, scanned the store for any sign of the redhead, who was responsible for working him into the state he was now in. Just as he reached the ground floor, he noticed her examining a book just a few stacks from the entrance to the store. Her eyes flicked over him, and then she quite deliberately turned away, leaving him with a view of her back. Disgruntled, Draco snarled in the back of his throat and slammed the shop door on his way out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There were four types of women in Draco’s life:
The first, and most important, was his mother, who commanded the utmost respect from him. Narcissa Malfoy was the only woman capable of getting Draco to do anything. He simply couldn’t refuse her.
The second group were his female friends without benefits. These women were mostly childhood friends and, while a great many of them were very attractive, to think about them in a sexual manner made his stomach roll uncomfortably. He did socialize with them at parties and balls, but he’s never considered taking one of them home for breakfast.
The third group consisted of his female friends with benefits. These were the women he could take to dinner and expect to have a semi-intelligent conversation with before jumping into bed with them. They all knew what he was like and expected nothing in the way of commitment from him. It was an unspoken arrangement that worked well for everyone involved, because these women weren’t the settling down kind anyway.
The fourth group was where his casual encounters landed. They never warranted an invitation to dinner and were only offered breakfast if they’d satisfied him sufficiently. Sometimes they didn’t even warrant a bed, if there was a solid wall or table handy and the atmosphere was right.
However, no matter where any woman was ranked, with the exception of his mother, he had one rule that he never broke: he never chased after them. In his opinion, he was good enough to have them chasing him and they did, so his energy would be wasted if he bothered.
Yet, here he was hovering in the corridor just outside the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It hadn’t taken him long to discover that she was a member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad - just a few carefully worded inquiries really. In the week since he’d bumped into her in Flourish and Blotts, she’d been on his mind constantly, even to the point that he’d not attempted to bed another woman, which was unheard of in his usually over-active social life. Somehow this Weasley woman had crawled under his skin and he craved another taste of her wicked sweetness.
The resolve to confront her that he’d had when he left his office was seeping away at an alarming rate and thoughts that he must be insane to have even contemplated coming here had started the moment he entered the Ministry. Never before had a woman given him cause to doubt himself. Yet here he was trying to talk himself into entering the very department where he knew he’d find her. The entire situation was ludicrous, in his opinion, but he still seemed unable to convince himself to move.
The sound of voices coming towards him from just inside the department forced him into the shadows. With no confidence in his convictions, Draco didn’t want to be seen by anyone who might report his presence within the department and, inadvertently, let her know he was here. As the voices drew closer he recognized one above all: hers. His heart started to hammer in his chest as they drew closer. Draco watched keenly from his position, only half hoping no one would notice him, seeing as she wasn’t alone, but at the same time desperately wanting to be noticed, if only to gauge her reaction. Luck was on his side, it seemed, because as they passed no one saw him and, more importantly, he overheard Weasley say that she was having lunch with her oaf of a brother, Ron.
Although he wouldn’t be able to see her, he knew she was simply going to lunch and would return in a while. Reluctant to hang around where someone might notice him, Draco decided to partake of some sustenance as well, and then come back, hopefully, in time to see her before she returned to her department. As he rode the elevator back to the Atrium, Draco decided to make his way to Diagon Alley. It was far better than choosing somewhere closer and having to tolerate the Muggles.
From the Atrium he Flooed directly to Diagon Alley - walking was most definitely a plebian mode of transport, in his opinion. As he entered The Leaky Cauldron he cast his eyes around for familiar faces hoping that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. It seemed just the old regulars were in a patronizing mood today, so Draco took a seat at the bar, confident that he would be able to eat quickly and return to the Ministry. When Tom came within earshot he ordered a shot of Firewhisky and the lunch special, without bothering to check what it was first.
The shot was just starting to warm his insides when a familiar voice floated through the old pub. Draco surreptitiously cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction the voice had come from. His first thoughts were confirmed when he spied red hair and freckles. There was just one problem: he saw two sets of red hair and freckles, one of them considerably less desirable than the other. A sense of self-preservation glued him to his barstool, because to get up and leave might have brought attention to himself. However, it wasn’t too difficult to overhear some of their conversation, because Weasley, the undesirable one, was still as loud as he was at Hogwarts.
Draco listened intently, not always able to hear the desirable Weasley’s response, but then for the most part the conversation was boring - mostly about their family, or so he presumed. About fifteen minutes after they sat down, Ron Weasley announced, rather crassly, that he had been suffering with an upset stomach all morning and would be back after he relieved himself for the umpteenth time since he awoke this morning. The face Draco was pulling only smoothed out once the door to the ‘little wizard’s room’ had closed with a desperate bang behind the man. The desired one was alone.
So as not to look too obvious, Draco slid off his stool and casually strolled over to her table. This was far better than hovering around the entrance to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It was simply a chance meeting and he wasn’t chasing her at all, or so he tried to convince himself in the time it took him to reach her side. “Weasley,” he drawled.
She looked slightly alarmed when she looked up at him. “Malfoy, what are you doing here?”
“Lunch,” Draco answered simply.
“Oh… I’m having lunch with Ron.”
“I noticed.”
“He’ll be back soon,” she insisted earnestly as her eyes glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the men’s lavatory.
“From what I heard, he’s going to be a while,” Draco informed her as he slid into the chair next to hers.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting down.”
“You can’t- If he sees you-“
“Believe me, Weasley, I don’t want that any more than you do.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Ah, the million Galleon question,” Draco drawled confidently.
“Malfoy, just tell me!”
“It’s simple really-“ Draco reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “-I want you.”
“Me?”
“For some reason I can’t quite put you out of my mind.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Draco allowed his fingers to trail up her thigh. “I’m perfectly serious, Weasley, and you can’t deny that we were good together.”
“I-well-we were both drunk,” she stammered.
“Not in Flourish and Blotts,” Draco pointed out.
A vivid rose-colored blush appeared from beneath the neckline of her robes and rushed up her chest, into her face. Draco knew he was pressuring her by the way she wouldn’t meet his intense gaze, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted her desperately. Besides, he was positive if she truly didn’t want his attentions he would be wailing in pain right about now, instead of sitting next to her, stroking her cheek in what appeared to be an absent manner.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” Draco whispered as his lips hovered over hers.
“Ron… work… I-“
Her excuses were cut short as he claimed her lips feverishly. For a moment she didn’t respond and he was a little worried, but then the little minx slipped her tongue into his mouth and he forgot to think about anything. His fingers wove through her silky tresses, tangling themselves and ensuring she wasn’t going to run away.
All of a sudden she began trying to pull away, and Draco had no choice but to release her a little or he’d end up hurting her.
“I heard a door… Ron-“
Draco cast a quick, rather panicked, glance in the direction of the men’s room and sure enough Weasley was standing there, thankfully with his back to them, talking to some old drunk. “I’ll see you-” His words dried up in his mouth as Weasley began to turn around. It was like one of those horrid dreams where everything was happening in slow motion and no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from happening.
A pair of hands started pushing him down towards the floor. Paralyzed with fear, Draco obeyed the insistent pressure and soon found himself staring at Ginny Weasley’s knees. He looked around at the floor he was crouched on and tried not to gag. The Leaky Cauldron’s staff certainly weren’t what one would call diligent in their duties. He shuddered to think exactly what his clothing was coming in contact with, especially his right knee, which was very slowly absorbing some mysterious fluid. There was one thing for certain: he would have to discard these robes when he got home.
He had to get out of here, but just as the thought surfaced in his brain a sharp kick landed in the small of his back. Weasley had returned to the table and had effectively trapped him with his abnormally large feet. Trapped! A sliver of fear began to snake its way up his spine. If he was caught there was no way he could talk his way out of it or even escape quickly.
Ginny sounded like she had recovered enough to appear normal, or normal enough that her older brother wouldn’t suspect she had a wizard between her legs. What he could hear of their conversation could only be of interest to Weasleys or those of limited intelligence and expiration from boredom was becoming a serious hazard after five minutes under the table. Draco just wished they’d finish their lunch and leave, so he could extract himself and work out exactly how he was going to get some time alone with her. From what he heard, she wasn’t even trying to expedite their departure. A frustrated growl sat in the back of his throat, unvoiced yet eager to be heard.
He needed to remind her that he was still here and he wanted to get out before he was discovered, because the longer he remained, the more chance there was of discovery and he really didn’t feel up to being tortured today. As his hand came up to rest on her thigh he felt her tense. A wicked smirk crossed his face as an equally wicked idea filtered through his mind.
With care, Draco started to gently stroke her inner thigh, climbing a little higher each time his fingers moved. At first, she tensed again, then she moved her leg away from his hand, and in doing so gave him greater access to the inside of her thigh. When she tried to move her leg back to its previous position, Draco strategically placed his shoulder in the way. His fingers continued their busy little trip up her leg until they reached her knickers. It was then that he received a stinging slap from her.
“Is everything all right?” Ron asked with concern in his tone.
“Yeah, it was-a- err-spider,” Ginny stammered unconvincingly.
“You killed it, didn’t you?”
Draco had to bite the side of his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Even he could hear the cold panic in Weasley’s voice.
“Yes, I think so,” Ginny answered.
“Just make sure,” Ron insisted, moving his legs as far away from his sister as he could.
Even though the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, Draco bit down harder on his flesh. He was only seconds from losing control. When Ginny’s head suddenly appeared beneath the table he sobered immediately. Her eyes were narrowed in a deadly glare.
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“And what if I don’t?” Draco whispered in return.
“I’ll tell Ron I was mistaken about the spider… I’ll let him it’s a ferret.”
“You wouldn’t?”
She smirked at him and disappeared.
Once again he found himself alone with the grimy underworld of the Leaky Cauldron’s floor. Draco could hear her reassuring her coward of a brother that there was no longer a spider under the table. He relaxed as much as he could in the position he was in, resting his arms on her legs, because he didn’t want to place his hands on the filthy floor. Every minute felt like an hour to him, and his legs were slowly, but surely, going numb. With nothing else to occupy his time, Draco began unconsciously trailing his fingers over her legs.
The next thing he knew he was cradling his hand, trying desperately not to cry out in pain and alert anyone else to his presence. She had pinched him when he’d allowed his hand to wander too high. He was going to make her pay for that vicious little swipe, if he managed to escape in one piece.
A short time later the four feet around him began to move. Draco had just breathed a sigh of relief when one of the feet connected firmly with the small of his back. “Fuck,” he hissed with tears brimming in his eyes.
“What was that?” Ron asked.
“I kicked the table,” Ginny answered quickly.
Draco held still, his heart hammering in his chest, just waiting for Weasley to stick his head under the table and discover his presence.
“Tables don’t curse,” Ron pointed out.
“Curse?” Ginny laughed. “Ronald, you’re hearing things!”
As their voices grew further away, Draco relaxed. He waited until he could no longer see their feet and then he scrambled out from under the table. When he stood up, Draco couldn’t quite believe the state of his clothes. Some indescribable sludge was slowly running off his pants and he smelled like he’d rolled in something dead. Repulsed, Draco sent a hard glare in the direction of the bar.
“You need to clean the floor,” Draco snarled, unable to help himself from commenting.
The only acknowledgement he received was a disinterested glance from Tom, the publican.
With a snarl Draco stalked towards the Diagon Alley exit. His hand had just landed on the door handle when it was wrenched out of his grasp. An anxious looking Ginny Weasley almost bowled him over as she burst into the pub.
“Weasley, slow down,” Draco grunted as he caught her by the shoulders.
“Oh-you’re here- I got rid of Ron,” she stammered. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it was safe.”
“Your brother is gone?”
She nodded. “Yes, I told him I left something at the table.”
“Good,” Draco drawled. “You and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Unfinished business? No, I have to get back to work.”
Rather than argue the point with words, Draco advanced on her until he’d back her up against the cold stone wall of the pub. His hands cupped her face and held it in position as he poured every ounce of heat he possessed into one kiss. At first she didn’t respond, but then he could feel her melting into him. When her tongue started its slow exotic dance with his, Draco could feel his temperature rising. He had to have her again. To deny himself would have been like denying one oxygen.
“Now, should we find somewhere to finish our business?” Draco whispered into her ear.
“I-I can’t.”
To Draco’s ears, she sounded genuinely disappointed through her erratic breathing. He’d had a definite effect on her, so now it was time to exploit the fact. “I insist.”
“No.” She pushed against his chest, making him take a step back. “I have to get back to work.”
Draco masked his disappointment while he tried to think of a way to get her to succumb to his charm. Of course, the fact that he had her in his arms now and didn’t want to let her go was overriding his thoughts, but she was insistent about returning to work. “Can’t you take the afternoon off?”
“I have an important meeting. If I don’t go back, they’ll think something happened to me,” Ginny replied.
He couldn’t deny that he could see the logic in her argument, and the last thing he needed was some sort of Ministry ‘witch’ hunt as they tried to locate her. “Tonight then?”
“Where?”
“Meet me on the steps of Gringott’s at five o’clock.”
“All right, but where are we going to go-“
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of somewhere.” He knew they couldn’t be seen together. It was all right at a drunken party for a friend to dare him to shag her, but this revisiting thing was not considered acceptable for a casual encounter, which is what she was, or so he told himself.
She nodded. “I should go.”
Draco followed her out to the public Floos in Diagon Alley. As usual, the shopping district was overrun with people, and it was quite possible that they could go unnoticed in the throngs, despite the fact that they both belonged to two very distinctive families.
Ginny was digging around her handbag, obviously for her stash of Floo powder, as they walked. Just as she reached to public hearth, Draco reached out and grabbed her arm, drawing her back to him. His actions were reckless, but he didn’t give the consequences a second thought as his lips once again connected with hers in a sense of urgency. He simply didn’t want to let her go right now or, if he was completely honest, in the foreseeable future.
Her hands pushed against his chest with more power than he thought her small frame possible of possessing.
“Not here! We could be seen,” she whispered harshly.
“I just-“
Ginny shook her head. “I’ll see you later.”
“Oi! Is he bothering you, Ginny?”
Draco’s heart immediately tried to jump out his chest. She had relatives everywhere. How could he have forgotten that fact?
She groaned and sighed heavily, before turning to face George. “No, it’s all right. I dropped something, and Malfoy was just returning it.”
George eyed him up and down with an unreadable expression. “That better had be all it was,” he warned.
“How utterly charming,” Draco declared pompously. “I perform a gentlemanly act, and this is the thanks I receive.”
“Just bugger off and leave her alone,” George growled.
Draco sneered at the lanky man with ginger hair before turning on his heel and moving into the crowds of people flowing into Diagon Alley. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. Since when did he put his life at risk for a woman? After tonight he vowed to tell her that he couldn’t continue this foolishness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
( The Rules of Engagement 2/3 )
( The Rules of Engagement 3/3 )
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive? Something silly, having them sneaking about and almost getting caught by others would be fun. Not terribly fitting with the Ides thingy, but could a little!
The tone/mood of the fic: Naughty
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: I would love him getting totally frustrated!
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: G-NC17
Canon or AU? Either, I'm easy. :)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Nothing comes to mind.