Disclaimer: JK Rowling STILL owns it all (wow, a surprise, huh?)

A/N: There is some serious snogging at the end of the chapter. Just a warning ;)

 

Chapter Eleven

 Chocolate Kisses

 

Ginny hadn’t felt this secure in months. She buried her face in Draco’s neck, willing herself to stop crying, wishing her nose wasn’t clogged so she could smell him. He gripped her tightly, their bodies perfectly molded into one another’s. He wasn’t saying anything, or even rubbing her back reassuringly, but she instantly felt better anyway.

    Draco was the first to pull away, just so he could see her face. “It’s not safe here,” he said in a gravelly voice, his expression unreadable.

    He turned, holding her wrist loosely, and started to walk down the aisle from the way he had come, back to the exit where his broom was. But when he looked up he stopped short, seeing that his father armed with two bulky men. Ginny was instantly reminded of the way Draco used to look back at school, when he was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Only this image was far more frightening, because the look on Lucius Malfoy’s face was twice as vicious as Draco’s had ever been.

    Then a cold smile spread over the older blond man’s face.

    “Where do you plan on going?” he said slowly, walking towards them.

    Draco did not reply. Ginny glanced at his profile and saw his jaw muscles twitching, showing that he was grinding his teeth. He dropped her wrist, but instinctively took a step closer to him, turning her attention back to his father.

    “You are a fool, Draco,” Lucius hissed, the smile dropping off his mouth. He was now standing before them, close enough for Ginny to see the details of his face in the pale lighting. His lips set in a straight line, hard and cold. His eyes narrowed, holding no humanly warmth, only the blazing fire of his frustration and anger. His hair, shorter than his son’s, and a bit coarser, but just as blond.

    Lucius jerked his eyes towards her, seeing her staring at him. She blinked, startled, but did not look away. She resisted the urge to stumble backwards, uneasy and a nearly trembling under his hard gaze.

    “You,” he spat at her through clenched teeth, “have been nothing but trouble to me.”

    Ginny opened her mouth to reply. But then, in a flash of his sleeve, Lucius raised his hand and delivered such a hard blow to the side of her face it sent her stumbling into the shelves of food.

    Draco didn’t wait a second before grabbing the front of his father’s robes roughly, angrily. With all his strength, he shoved Lucius into the opposite food rack.

    Lucius was not prepared for this and lifted his arms back to try and grab the edge of the shelf to try and regain his balance. His movement caused many cans to roll from their places and fall to the floor with loud clatters.

    Ginny watched, her back up against the other rack, one hand holding her burning cheek, as Draco pulled out his wand. But he didn’t point at his father – rather, he pointed to the shelf above him. “Inixious,” he hissed. A jet of pale blue light shot from the top of his wand and hit the shelves.

    Lucius, leaning back against he shelves for support, didn’t have time to react. The entire rack began to tip backwards, and Lucius Malfoy fell with it.

   Ginny watched, her mouth slightly open in shock, as the falling rack had a domino effect. It fell onto the next one and tipped it, which fell onto the next one, and so on and so on . . .

    The sounds of the other men’s shouts filled the air. Ginny lowered her hand from her cheek and hugged herself, feeling helpless and vulnerable, wondering what would happen next.

    Lucius was stunned for a moment as he lay on his back on the fallen shelf. Then he started to scramble to his feet, and Draco backed up closer to Ginny, but she couldn’t see his face; couldn’t see what he was thinking now that the fact that he’d attacked his father sunk in.

    It’s amazing his back isn’t broken, Ginny thought of Lucius, watching as he started to straighten.

    Then, several things happened. The sound of sirens filled the air, signaling the approaching Muggle police. Harry appeared at the end of the aisle, having come to see what had happened, and spotted Ginny. As he started to run towards her, he also noticed Lucius, who was too busy glaring at his son with menace, to notice him. Harry slowed to walk before coming to an altogether stop about two yards from them.

    Ginny’s eyes searched Draco’s face, trying to find some hint of fear. She knew that if Lucius Malfoy was looking at her like that she would be cowering on the ground. But Draco met his father’s gaze levelly, face emotionless.

    Ginny felt like everything was trapped in time. Nothing moved. Even the other men seemed to realize something was wrong and had stopped moving around. The only thing that hinted the earth was still revolving was the sirens, growing louder and louder until they seemed right outside the store.

    Finally, Lucius’s body guards, who had stood at the end of the aisle and watched the shelves fall, hurried to his side. The sound of opening car doors was heard, and Ginny could see the busted doors from where she was standing now that the racks of food were down, and saw the flashing red and blue lights.

    “The building is surrounded,” came a loud voice from outside. “Come out with your hands up.”

    There was a flurry of movement when the other dozen men came rushing to Lucius. Ginny watched, her back to Harry, and jumped when she felt him grab her arm.

    “Come on,” he whispered, and began to pull her down the aisle.

    “But Draco –“ she started, though she didn’t put up any resistance. Glancing over her shoulder, walking quickly because Harry was yanking her arm urgently, she saw that Lucius managed to shut up his men with a mere glance. They all stood awkwardly around him. Draco had stepped backwards until his back was against the shelf, watching his father warily.

    Lucius suddenly noticed that Ginny and Harry were getting away. He turned his head sharply and pulled his wand out, pointing it at her.

    Ginny and Harry sprinted the rest of the way down the aisle. He steered her towards the employee’s exit he’d come in, but without the tallness of the collapsed shelves they were easy targets.

    It was amazing none of the curses Lucius hurled at her hit either of them. He must’ve been shaking with so much rage that he couldn't aim correctly. The ground and wall got the brunt of the hexes, causing shattered pieces to jump into the air all around her and Harry. But they made it out safely, and, without hesitating, Harry jumped onto his broom.

    “Come on,” he said immediately. “They’ll be coming –”

    “What about Draco?” Ginny demanded, reluctant to leave without him. She knew Lucius would do something terrible to him for helping her, and how could she leave him when all he’d done the past few days was save her?

    “He’s a big boy; he can take care of himself,” Harry said quickly. “C’mon Ginny, they’re going to come any second. Am I going to have to grab you and use a Sticking Charm to keep you on this broom?”

    She stared at him for a moment, and he stared back, one dark eyebrow raised. Ginny sighed. What good could she to for Draco, anyway? Her cheek was throbbing, her body ached with exhaustion, and she didn’t have her wand. She’d probably only cause more trouble.

    She swung one leg over the broom and gripped Harry’s waist firmly. He instantly pushed off into the air, going as fast as his SilverStar 7000 would go. Ginny glanced back down at the rapidly shrinking store, and the flashing lights of the police cars. She hoped that Draco would get arrested – it would keep him safe from his father. Then he could escape.

    Draco will be safer in a Muggle prison than with his father, she thought sadly, looking forward again and burying her face into the back of Harry’s shoulder.

* * *

They had seconds before the Muggle police were going to come in. Draco half-heard them outside, demanding that they come out or they were going to come in. But his attention was focused on his father, well aware that if he took his eyes from Lucius even once then he would use that opportunity to attack him. Draco was too busy being careful to feel anything about Ginny’s departure. He forced her from his mind.

    Lucius turned to his men. “Take his wand from him,” he said simply, his voice surprisingly calm.

    When he seems calm is when he’s the angriest, Draco thought as three men rushed towards him. He didn’t put up much of a fight, and his wand was wrenched from his grasp within seconds.

    That’s when the police decided to come in.

    In about a minute, even though Lucius tried to use Memory Charms to get them to forget about what just happened, they were completely surrounded by Muggle police. They all had their pistols pointed at them, and one of them kept saying in a loud, deep tone, “Drop you weapons and put your hands above your head!”

    Draco was the first to obey, praying his father would realize how stupid it would be to try and use magic on these dozens of Muggles. If I’m arrested then I’ll be able to escape, he mused.

    But Lucius was not stupid, and with a scowl he dropped his wand to the ground. His men followed the suit, and were instantly rushed by a swarm of police.

    Draco allowed them make him stand against the wall, legs apart, and then pat him down, searching for any more weapons. He didn’t change his expression when they handcuffed his hands behind his back and led him outside, forcing him not so gently into the back of a police car. In fact, he felt rather relieved as they drove away, Draco alone in the rear seat, two policemen up front.

    He’d somehow escape jail. But he knew his father would, too. Somehow he’d have to do it sooner than his father. As in, right after he arrived.

    Yet instead of being taken right to a cell, he was lead to a room. It was empty except for a table with two chairs on each side. His handcuffs were taken off and he was told to take a seat in one of the chairs.

    Draco obeyed without speaking. A rather pudgy man sat on the opposite side, and he wore a collared shirt and tie, not the black uniform of an officer. There was one lamp hanging directly over the table, casting a yellow light over the man’s already pasty complexion. There were two guards standing by the doors, and another collared-shirt man behind the first with a tape recorder.

    “My name’s Detective Hammerson,” the man sitting across from Draco began gruffly. “Rightfully, you don’t have to tell us anything until you get a lawyer. Would you like to wait, or can you tell us something now?”

    Draco did not reply.

    After a long silence, Hammerson nodded. “All right, I’ll take it now is a good time for you.” He raised one eyebrow and paused, waiting for Draco to object. When he was met with more silence, he continued. “Can you tell me who you are?”

    Draco wasn’t sure if he should give a false name or not. So he didn’t reply and stared the man square in the eye.

    After a moment, Hammerson straightened. “You don’t know who you are, or do you not speak English?” He sounded sarcastic and annoyed.

    Draco continued to stare at him, keeping his face unreadable.

    “All right,” Hammerson said, beginning to stand, “we’ll just get the language interpreter in here –“

    “Eric,” Draco said lazily. “My name is Eric Wimbleton.”

    Hammerson returned to his seat, looking at him as if trying to detect his lie. Draco made sure his face was completely expressionless. “Well, Eric,” the detective said, clasping his hands together, “can you tell me why you broke into that grocery store?”

    “I can,” Draco said simply.

    There was a long stretch of silence, obviously because Hammerson was waiting for Draco to elaborate. When nothing came, he frowned in irritation and ordered, “Tell me.”

    He shrugged. “I was hungry.”

    Hammerson’s frown deepened. “This is no joking matter, young man. You could be facing several years in prison for this.”

    Draco tried not to smirk. Once I get hold of my wand I’ll use a Memory Charm on you and you’ll forget all about this incident, he thought confidently, but didn’t open his mouth.

    “You’ll be charged on several accounts,” Hammerson went on. “Firstly, for breaking and entering. Secondly, for destruction of property. Now, you might not have been the one to tip all those food racks over, but you were there and you had something to do with it. But if you did have any action in tipping those over you could be charged for possible manslaughter, considering three men are hospitalized for being nearly crushed to death by the falling shelves.”

    Oh, boo-hoo. Draco rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to put his feet up on the desk, cross his feet at the ankles, and fold his hands nonchalantly in his lap. Three less almost-Death-Eaters to worry about. You should be thanking me, not putting me in jail.

    “Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?” Hammerson asked, annoyed at Draco’s easy manner.

    Draco seemed to consider it carefully before replying, “The doors were already busted when I came.”

    “Who broke them?” Hammerson asked quickly.

    Draco shrugged.

    Hammerson tried in vain to pump more information from him, but Draco would only reply with a shrug or a shake of the head. The detective looked pissed off enough to about jump across the table and strangle him. He managed to control himself and pulled out a plastic baggy.

    “Can you tell me what these are?” he snapped.

    Draco’s heart soared as he stared at the bag, full of wands. His wand had to be in there – he figured that the police had gotten them off the men and Lucius. That meant Ginny’s wand was in there and he could give it to her. Quickly pushing her from his mind, Draco acted calmly.

    “Perhaps a new sort of pipe to sniff cocaine from?” he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows. Apparently Hammerson did not find this funny and glared.

    “They aren’t hollow,” he said sharply.

    Draco made sure his expression didn’t give away his eagerness as he leaned forward and held his hand out. “May I look at them closer? I can’t see them well enough to decide what they are.”

    Hammerson grumbled something under his breath and dropped the bag into Draco’s outstretched hand.

    Draco opened the bag and pulled out each wand, one by one, searching for his own. He pretended to examine each one before setting them in a neat pile on the table before him.

    Finally, he found his. His fingers closed around it gratefully. Now I can escape with all their wands. Father will have to stay here for a bit longer, won’t he?

    Draco stood up, dropping the half-full bag onto the table. Alarmed, Hammerson got to his feet, too.

    “What are you doing?” the detective demanded.

    Draco turned quickly and stunned the two guards at the door, all in one breath. He whirled around to face Hammerson and the other man. They both started to hurry towards him, and he took a few steps back so they couldn’t snatch his wand away.

    A second later, they both dropped to the ground, stunned like the guards.

    Hurriedly, Draco performed Memory Charms on all four of them, erasing his face from their minds. They were the only people who had really gotten a good look at him – to every other policemen, his face would fade away within a few days and hopefully they’d forget about him. Or at least forget what he looked like.

    Draco set the tape recorder on fire so it could never play back the interrogation, stuffed the wands bag in the bag and stuck them in his cloak pocket, took the keys from one of the guards, and unlocked the door.

    He was out of the station within minutes. Only running into two policemen, he’d managed to stun them and get away unnoticed by anyone else.

    Once outside, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere without his broom. Figuring that the police must’ve found it outside the grocery store and that it had to be somewhere inside the station, he walked around until he found an empty room.

    Magicking the window open, noticing the already-open door, he hissed, “Accio Firebolt 5000.”

    A moment later, his broomstick was in his hand. Draco walked casually away from the station. When he reached the main road, he looked around, saw no Muggles, and pushed off into the air.

    He flew around aimlessly for a while, realizing that he had only a couple hours of darkness left, and then would have to return to the ground. But he wasn’t sure where to go. He couldn’t go home. And he couldn’t stay at a hotel. He was still wanted.

    I could go to Ginny’s. The thought popped into his head, uninvited. He quickly contradicted himself. Why would I go there? I’m not welcome. Her family hates me.

    It was most obvious that home was where Harry was taking her. And he could use the excuse that he was returning her wand.

    I can just owl it to her, he thought.

    Besides, he wasn’t totally sure where her house was. Of course, if he really wanted to know, he could get a map of rural neighborhoods of England from a wizarding convenience store, one that labeled each house by the last name of who lived there. But how could he go to the Weasley household? If her brothers didn’t kill him . . . well, then they’d probably hurt him very badly instead. And anyway, who says Ginny even wanted him?

    Sure, she’d needed him for a little while, but that was only because there was no one else. If she were with her family, safe and secure with her seven male members, then she’d have no need for him.

    I need to go somewhere, he thought, frustrated. But, he realized with dread, he didn’t have anywhere to go. No one wanted him – except the Ministry, and he didn’t exactly want to end up in their clutches.

    After a while, he set off towards London. Once he got there he’d figure out what to do. His father would probably be held up in jail for a few days before he managed to weasel his way out of it.

    Draco smiled smugly, feeling the wands in his pocket. Very rarely did he feel as if he were doing something right, and now was one of those unusual moments.

* * *

Ginny had dozed off against Harry, and she jolted awake as they touched the ground. Harry helped her off gently, saying something to her. She was too exhausted to hear; too tired to keep her eyes focused. It was morning, she noticed, and wondered how long she’d been asleep.

    But when she noticed where they were, she forced her eyes to focus. She was home. The sight of her tilting, small, rather ridiculous house had never looked so inviting. She shrugged Harry’s arm off her shoulders and somehow found the strength inside her to take two steps at a time up the familiar front porch steps. Throwing the door open, she hurried into the front hallway, breathing in the scent of her house, of her family. Oh, how she had missed it. She’d rarely been home in the couple of months during her trial, always having to stay in hotels in London, and it felt as if she hadn’t see it in years. No longer did she cringe at the worn out rug on the hardwood floor – in fact, she had the oddest desire to throw herself upon it and sleep.

    She forced herself to not stop and kept going. There was light coming from the family room, and she could hear the radio on, tuned into the news. Ginny came to the doorway, and had to sag against the frame to keep her from collapsing.

    There they were. All of her brothers were home. Fred, George, Charlie, and Bill were crowded on the couch, each of them trying to read books. Percy, who was reading the newspaper, shared the loveseat with Ron, who was reading a Quidditch magazine, with Hermione squished between them and holding Ron’s hand, her other hand grading papers. Her mother was sitting in a reclining chair, knitting, though Ginny could tell by the uneven stitches that Mrs. Weasley’s heart was no into it. Her father was sitting in the other armchair, also reading the newspaper.

    No one noticed her leaning against the doorframe, gripping it to keep on her feet. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at her family, her lovely family. She let out a loud sob that caused everyone’s head to snap up and stare at her.

    There was a second of silence as everyone glued their eyes to her, as if not believing it was her. Her mother was the first to react.

    She jumped out of her seat, her knitting things sliding to the floor, forgotten, and crossed the room with surprising speed for someone with legs as short as hers. And then Ginny was being smothered in her arms, so tightly she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. Mrs. Weasley stroked her hair and kept muttering, “Ginny, my baby, you’re all right, you’re home now . . .”

    After that, Ginny hugged everyone in the room, unable to speak because she was so relieved, so happy to be home and with her family again. When she pulled away from Hermione, she turned to see Harry had entered the room, smiling slightly awkwardly at the scene.

    Mrs. Weasley draped her arm around Ginny’s shoulders and pulled her in a sideways hug as Mr. Weasley went to clap Harry on the back.

    “Thank you, Harry,” he said, tears in his eyes as he gave Harry a faltering smile. “You don’t know how much this means to us.”

    Ginny wiped at her cheeks, sniffing to try and clear her nose. Her mother turned to her and beamed her a warm, reassuring grin. “How about a nice warm meal and then a bath, huh?” she suggested, rubbing up and down Ginny’s upper arms briskly.

    She nodded, and a few minutes later she was eating a big breakfast with her family, Hermoine, and Harry. Her brothers were eager to hear about what had happened to her in the past few days, but Mrs. Weasley shushed them, and said that Ginny would tell them all later. Ginny was thankful, because she was not in the mood to talk. As she ate her mum’s wonderful cooking, she listened as everyone else spoke about every subject but her escape.

    When she couldn’t eat any more, Ginny was too exhausted to even think of taking a bath. Instead, she dragged herself up to her room, peeled off her filthy jumpsuit, and collapsed into her bed. As she drifted off to sleep, savoring the amazing feeling of being back in her own bed, her parents came in and kissed her forehead. After that she fell into a very deep sleep.

    She slept soundly and dreamlessly, and when she slowly opened her eyes it was dusk. She lay in bed for a while, listening to the muffled voices of her family in various parts of the house, smiling gently and feeling so happy she could burst. She refused to remember the fact that at any minute, the Ministry could come and take her away. At the moment she was home, and she was determined to enjoy it.

    Ginny took a long shower once she managed to pull herself from bed, afraid she might fall asleep again if she took a bath. It felt luxurious to wash her hair and her body, feeling the warm needles of water on her back. And then her thoughts started to drift back to Draco.

    I hope he’s okay, she thought, biting her lower lip nervously. She hoped he’d managed to get away from his father. Every time she thought of how she’d left him there, when he’d never left her, her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

    She got out of the shower and dried off, getting into a pink camisole that clashed horribly with her hair and a pair of large plaid pajama bottoms. Hungry again, she padded downstairs to get some dinner.

    When her mother wasn’t looking, Ginny managed to grab a chunk of her mother’s homemade chocolate. She was just about to shove it in her mouth when there was a knock on the door.

* * *

Draco had gotten lost.

    He’d stopped at a wizarding store to get a map. He’d also bought a toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed his teeth in the bathroom. Then he’d hurried out before anyone recognized him, and found Ginny’s house on the map. But somehow he’d gotten hopelessly lost, and flew around all day trying to find something familiar that would help him find his way.

    At last he’d come back to the store and he started out again. This time around he’d managed to find it. By now it was dark, and the sight of the Burrow, though rather shabby and crooked, gave off a warm, homey light.

    Broom in one hand, map in the other, Draco stood before the front porch steps, looking up at the door. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to knock. He wasn’t welcome here.

    What the hell was I thinking? he wondered, pissed off at himself. Coming to her house? She won’t want to see me, and then her brothers will beat the shit out of me.

    But somehow he found himself walking up the porch steps until he was right before the door, and he raised his hand to knock. Just do it, he ordered himself, and sucked in a deep breath.

    He knocked.

    There was complete silence for a few seconds. Draco released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and waited. Waited.

    Finally, there was a scuffling noise, and the sound of bolts being undone. The door opened a crack and someone peered out.

    After another moment or two, it opened fully. The short, round, Mrs. Weasley stood there, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed. They stared at each other for a little while before she finally asked, “Can I help you?”

    Draco remembered the reason he’d come and dug into his pocket. He pulled out the baggie of wands, cursing himself in his head for not separating hers before he’d knocked. Idiot! He felt rather foolish as he rummaged through the dozen plus wands, finally finding Ginny’s and holding it out to her mother.

    “This is her wand,” he said simply.

    Mrs. Weasley continued to eye him suspiciously, then reluctantly took the wand. “Thank you,” she said cautiously, and stepped back inside, starting to shut the door.

    So that’s that, Draco thought. I didn’t even see her. What a pointless trip this turned out to be.

    The door was nearly shut, and Draco still hadn’t moved, when it suddenly flew open. And instead of Mrs. Weasley, it was Ginny. Her hair, slightly damp, fell down to her bare shoulders in waves, and her skin looked so clean Draco’s fingers itched to touch it.

    For what seemed like hours, Ginny just stared at him, one hand holding the door open, the other holding a rather large chunk of chocolate. Then, turning her head slightly but not taking her eyes from Draco’s, she said to her mother who must’ve been standing nearby, “Mum, I’ll be in in a minute.”

    There was a long stretch of silence before Draco heard Mrs. Weasley walk away. Ginny then stepped out on to the porch and shut the door behind her.

    She held out the chocolate, offering it to him. But he shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he lied, smirking.

    She remained serious. “Yes you are.” But she didn’t persist the issue. She gestured at the hanging swing on the porch, and they both sat. “Were you arrested?” she asked quietly, breaking off a piece of chocolate and putting it in her mouth.

    “Yes. But they were stupid enough to give me my wand.”

    She sighed, lifting her head to look straight ahead, chewing thoughtfully. Draco stared at her lovely profile, resisting the urge to grab her and kiss her. Even though her mouth was full.  

   “Where’s your father?” she inquired.

    “Still in Muggle custody,” he replied. “I have all their wands.”

    Ginny snapped her face at him, and Draco grinned and pulled out the bag of wands. She stared at it for a moment before laughing.

    Draco found himself smiling. He hadn’t seen her laugh with joy since . . . well, since never. He’d never paid her much attention at school, and she hadn’t had anything to laugh about in the past few days they’d spent together. And it actually made him warm inside, to know that he was partly the reason she was finally laughing happily.

    After a moment, she sobered. She put another bit of chocolate in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. “I’m sorry.”

    “For what?”

    “I left you there.”

    “I didn’t expect you to stick around. Besides, Weasley, I can handle myself.” His eyes caught hers, and it took her a moment to realize he was only teasing her by calling her Weasley.

    She looked so irresistible at that moment, with a wistful expression, her face partly in shadows. Draco was having trouble controlling his thoughts, and had to grip the armrest of the swing to keep from touching her.

    “I just feel bad,” she said, sighing. “I don’t know, you’ve always been there for me, and then the one chance I get to help you, I leave . . .”

    She was worried about me. The thought surprised him. No one had ever really been worried about him before.

    Before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned over and had his lips against hers. At first, she was startled, but it only took a second before she was responding. She tasted wonderfully of chocolate, and Draco moved closer to her.

    He was kissing her so deeply that he was beginning to push her back on the seat of the bench. Her feet still on the ground, her body twisted at the ribs, she used her chocolate-free hand to run her fingers over his cheek, then up to his hair. His own hands were brushing the back of her neck, and his touch was cold. It was sending shivers down her spine, and caused her stomach to dip several times. Despite his cool fingers, Ginny felt as if she were on fire. His kiss was certainly far from icy – in fact, the remaining piece of chocolate was beginning to melt, being pinched in her forefinger and thumb.

    Using her free hand, she gently pushed his head away to break off the kiss. For a moment he thought that she didn’t want to kiss him anymore, that she was going to tell him to get off her. But instead, she smiled slightly, and raised her hand and put the last bit of chocolate to his lips, dropping it into his mouth.

    He didn’t chew it immediately. Instead, he took her chocolate-smeared hand and put her fingertip into his mouth, sucking off the melted chocolate. He did the same to her thumb, and Ginny watched. Her heart had gone from quick, fluttering beats to slow, pounding beats, which she could hear in her ears. She was quite breathless when he finally returned his lips to hers.

    If Ginny had been watching this scene, she was sure she would’ve been totally grossed out at the prospect of sharing masticated chocolate with someone else. But experiencing it was a totally different situation. It was amazing; erotic. Once again they shifted so that Ginny was on her back on the bench, her legs slightly apart to accommodate Draco’s, who was half-kneeling and half-lying on her.

    He pushed up her top, which hadn’t been blocking his touch before, and he ran his hands over her stomach and up her sides in a slow movement that had her clutching him. Their kiss deepened even more, and that’s when Ginny’s brain finally started to work.

    If I don’t put a stop to this, she thought, then we’re going to end up having sex on my front porch.

    When his lips left hers to kiss her neck, she took the opportunity to speak. Her eyes opened, and she stared at the ceiling, trying to gather her wits about her. “Draco,” she whispered breathlessly, “Draco, we can’t . . . we shouldn’t be . . .”

    She trailed off because her hands did not seem to be listening to her words. They were roaming over his clothes, trying to find the clasp in which she could undo. And then his lips were on hers again, sealing off any other words she might try to say. She gave up and kissed him back.

    Then someone cleared their throat, and Ginny’s eyes flew open. Draco lifted his head and they both looked towards the front door. Harry was leaning out, looking at them with a shocked and embarrassed expression.

    “Sorry to interrupt,” he said dryly, “but your mum wants you to come back in, Gin.”

    Thank God she didn’t come out here, Ginny thought, pushing at Draco so he would get off her. He did slowly, while Ginny hurried to get in a sitting position and nearly flew off the bench.

    “Tell her I’ll be right in,” she said to Harry, shutting the door for him. Then she turned back to Draco, and the sight of him made her knees weak and her stomach drop. God, how much she still wanted to kiss him.

    “I think I should leave,” Draco said, amused, his lips in a half-smirk. He shoved the baggy of wands back into his pocket and stood up.

    “Where are you going to go?” Ginny asked as he started down the porch steps to retrieve his broomstick.

    His back to her, he shrugged. “Does it matter?”

    “Yes.” She stepped off the porch to stand behind him. “You can’t go home. Where else could you go?”

    He turned, his expression unreadable, though his eyes were blazing. “Nowhere. I can’t go anywhere,” he said roughly.

    “Well, maybe you can stay here,” Ginny blurted.

    He raised an eyebrow as if considering it then shook his head. “No. Not with your brothers around.”

    “Then where?” she asked stubbornly. “You don’t have anyplace else to go. I won’t have you sleeping in the woods or stealing Muggle hotel rooms again.”

    He smirked, amused again. “You won’t? Well, since when does your opinion matter to me, Miss Weasley?”

    She narrowed her eyes. “You’re staying here, Draco even if I have to tie you to a bed.”

    When she realized what she said, she blushed furiously, glancing down. Draco stared at her, half-smirking and half-grinning. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” he told her slowly. “Which bed do I get?”

 

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