A/N: Originally posted on LJ and AO3. This was a fun prompt that I was tempted to take in some rather interesting directions but I refrained. I don't normally enjoy writing these miscommunication fics but this one was actually pretty enjoyable. Perhaps I should put further thought into them...
Drawn Lines by KatieFlint
It's the sway of her hips, the comfortable familiarity of her fiery hair, and the knowledge of her foreign affiliation with him that melts Draco into his seat. Ginny, the first and only Weasley to catch the eye of a Malfoy, is drawing ever closer to her admirer at a tantalizing pace. It's torturous, and Draco can hardly wait for her to come within range of his grasp.
He's fast, and his touch is hot against her skin, but not nearly as hot as his kiss on her lips.
Weasleys never fall for Malfoys, ever.
This is just a fluke.
...
Ginny's had a few butterbeers, but she's always been terrific with her alcohol. So, wish as she might, she knows meeting Malfoy under the mistletoe is all her own doing. It may be hung inside a wizarding pub but even she can tell from a distance that it's not enchanted.
No, this is all her own doing. And if she regrets it in the end, so be it. Ginny regrets a lot of things, and for a long time she's regretted never kissing Draco Malfoy.
He reacts passionately to her, and Ginny can't help melding herself against his heated touch.
...
Were this any night but Christmas, patrons might have found the display borderline obscene. But, too enveloped in their own cheer, they don't even notice the pair apparate just outside the front door.
Draco's the one in control of the apparition, in control of her body, and he uses his control to conceive his most intimate fantasies involving her.
They're simple desires, at first, but Draco's determined to experience them all tonight. After all, tomorrow Ginny will come to her senses and flee.
Before that, Draco wants to see her undone by his hand. Just this once, all for him.
...
It's hard to believe mere hours ago Ginny slipped away from the Burrow feeling lonely and out of place. Her brothers, all there with their wives and some even with children… It caused Ginny to feel terribly lonely, something she found hard to reconcile.
Maybe if she'd dated Harry, she would've married right along with them, but that was never in her heart. They were good friends but nothing more.
Escaping to the pub, Ginny never imagined she'd end up between Malfoy's sheets for the night.
Just one night, she promises herself. Ginny's never been this lucky.
It won't last.
...
It's just a fluke, and Draco's taken full advantage of it.
He's remorse to close his eyes, but eventually neither he nor the sensational redhead beside him can lift limb or eyelid. He hesitates but choses to cradle her close, closing his eyes and pretending this is the end to a perfect Christmas day. A Christmas day with the redhead whose wrenched his heart from its chilling slumber with her undeniably obdurate existence.
She's always stood on the other side his world, and this one night with her is like a paint stroke straying across that definitive line between them.
...
Ginny doesn't know exactly why Draco keeps her in his bed or why he chooses to hold her to him but she lets herself pretend it's because he's regretted missing out on this too.
Absurd of course, because this is Draco Malfoy, but it makes it easier to stay in his arms just a little longer.
She'll sneak out, and back to the Burrow with no one will be the wiser. It's been an experience to be sure, and part of Ginny wants to regret it but she can't. She's wanted this for some time.
And it's been worth it.
...
Morning comes and Draco finds himself alone, disappointed but expecting nothing less. He rolls out of bed at noon and spends the rest of the wasted day sorting through rubbish Christmas cards from relatives and by-gone colleagues of his father.
It surprises him to find a card from the old Weasley coot buried amidst the sea of insincerity. All of the redheads in the picture beam through the card, and even though his father's name should be on the back, it's addressed to him.
Smiling faintly, Draco thinks, perhaps the lines aren't quite as defined as he used to believe.
End
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