Prompt:

"Well, I don't think you should."
"Well I don't recall asking what you think."

Burn

Ginny waved the bartender over with a slightly shaky hand. "Gimme 'nother cocktail." She tapped against her glass, in which there was barely a sip left of the Avada-green concoction she'd ordered before, swirling along the ice cubes.

The man eyed her up and down with raised eyebrows, then disappeared to the other side of the bar with a nod and a shrug.

Ginny turned around on her stool and let her eyes wander over the dancing crowds. The music seemed too loud, the people too cheerful, their clothes too garish in the strobing lights. She didn't really want to be here. But she didn't want to go home either. Not when her mother would bemoan her breakup with Harry yet again, even though it had been six months. Not when she would be constantly confronted with pictures of her brothers and their happy, smiling wives. She didn't begrudge them their happiness, but after a long Weasley brunch where everyone was present and her mother had continued her passive-aggressive attacks on Ginny's single state with vigour, she resented each and every one of them for finding the happiness that was just out of reach for her.

A tap on her shoulder warned her that the barman had placed a new glass next to her elbow and she reached around to take a sip without looking.

She spat it out as soon as the liquid touched her tongue and turned around furiously.

"Water?"

It was not the barman, however, who smirked at her. It was Draco Bloody Malfoy.

"I asked for another cocktail."

Malfoy shrugged one shoulder and placed his hands on the bar, leaning closer with a confidential air. "You've had quite enough to drink, Weasley."

Ginny scowled. Who did he think he was, anyway? Bloody prat. "I want to have another drink. Alcohol. I want more alcohol."

Draco raised an eyebrow, as if to challenge her statement. His eyes gleamed a strange, unearthly colour in the flashing club lights. "Well, I don't think you should."

"Well I don't recall asking what you think." The words snapped out of her mouth before Ginny could stop them.

Malfoy's mouth stretched into a toothy grin. "Unfortunately for you, Weasley, I own this club, and if I tell my barman not to serve you anything but water, you won't get anything but water."

"It's none of your fucking business what I do or do not drink, Malfoy," Ginny hissed, infuriated.

Malfoy leaned just a little closer to her. They were almost nose to nose and Ginny was momentarily distracted by the light, barely noticeable sprinkle of freckles on his nose. Who knew that flawless Malfoy skin was not quite so perfect up close? Her eyes snapped up to his and she couldn't look away. Had his eyes always been so entrancing? His mouth moved but she was so lost in his gaze that she didn't register what he said.

"What?"

"I said, Weasley, that it may not be any of my business what you do or do not drink, but it is my business that some unsavoury types have been circling you all night, eyeing you like candy. They tried to bribe the barman to spike your drink. That's why you're getting water now."

Ginny flushed bright red when his words began to make sense. She swallowed with difficulty, her embarrassment quickly turning to anger. "I don't need you to save me, Malfoy."

There seemed to be a momentary flash of hurt passing through his features, but it was gone before she could pinpoint it, his face melting into a mask of disinterest. He merely raised his eyebrows, as if in salute, then moved away from her.

Ginny hated how her hand trembled when she took another sip of the water. It was anger, she told herself. She was trembling with fury. Of course she was. But deep down, she knew it was the relief of having escaped a terrible fate.

It took her a full week to swallow her pride and admit to herself that she should really go back and thank Malfoy for helping her. Helping , not saving, she didn't need saving… She also didn't need to spend hours in her room deciding what to wear for this particular encounter. The silk teal dress really was the only appropriate thing she had in her closet. Even if the cleavage was, perhaps, a little deep.

The club was as busy as the week before, but, try as she might, she couldn't see Malfoy anywhere. She hoovered around the bar, carefully guarding her drink while her eyes searched for the gleam of platinum blond among the masses. Eventually she turned to the bartender to ask where the infuriating git was hiding. "Where's your boss today?"

The bartender looked her over, a flash of recognition in his eyes. Then he smiled. "The office." He gestured at a door marked Private . "Go on up, it's through there."

Ginny hesitated only for a moment. She could just go away, she didn't have to seek him out. But her sense of honour dictated she should thank him, and, as she was here, she might as well get it over with.

The doubt returned twice as forcefully when she stood before his door, her hand raised to knock, but unable to move. She took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Come in."

The deep, mellow voice sent a shiver down her spine. She entered the office and closed the door behind her, leaning against it and examining the room.

It was a large office, a floor to ceiling window overlooking the club on one side, and a similar window on the other side, where the blinds were now closed. Draco Malfoy sat behind a big mahogany desk, bent over a stack of ledgers, hair tousled, glasses slightly askew on his nose, dressed in a casual white shirt that had the top buttons undone and the sleeves folded back over his arms. He looked up when she entered, the vaguely polite smile fading into a barely suppressed gasp of surprise.

"I didn't realise there was a window into the club," Ginny blurted out. The sight of Malfoy's bare arms, the Dark Mark starkly contrasting with his pale skin, had disconcerted her.

"It's supposed to be a one-way window. I like to keep an eye on what's happening on the floor now and then."

Had Malfoy's voice been quite so gravelly last time they spoke? Had it ever been? Ginny didn't remember, and didn't care. Her eyes lingered on the Dark Mark, then snapped up to Malfoy's face. Since when did he wear glasses, anyway?

"Like you kept an eye on me last week?" She scrutinised his expression for any indication of… of what exactly, she didn't know, but she wanted his smooth mask of indifference to crack. She didn't realise she was holding her breath, waiting for his answer, until her lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen.

Malfoy seemed to study her for an extraordinarily long time, slowly taking his glasses off and placing them carefully on the desk before he answered. "You're a special case."

Ginny let her breath escape in a soft hiss. It was now or never. "I wanted to thank you. For what you did then. And also apologise for my behaviour. I was rude and ungrateful. I'm sorry." The words tumbled out of her mouth in an incoherent jumble, nothing like the prettily worded apology she'd prepared beforehand. She flushed a little.

She waited for Malfoy's reaction. His eyes widened, then his lips curled up in a smile. She'd never seen him smile before. She promptly forgot how to breathe.

Malfoy rose from his seat with the grace of a panther and stalked over to her, his eyes intent on hers. She couldn't look away. She wanted him close and she never wanted him to reach her. One hand clutched the door handle, ready to escape. The other clenched around that wrist stopping any movement.

Then he was there, right in front of her, so close she could see that hint of freckles again. His eyes gleamed bright as lightning. She was surrounded by his scent, fresh grass, peppermint, something wooden. His smile was even more brilliant up close. Her heart beat an irregular tattoo in her chest, so violently she was sure he could hear it.

"You're very welcome," he said.

Ginny blinked in confusion. It was suddenly hard to remember what their conversation had been about. She licked her lips unconsciously, only realising what she'd done when his eyes dropped to her mouth and then flicked up again, searching her face. His smile faltered a little, and he bit his lip.

Ginny's breath came shallow and fast. The door was hard against her back, the doorknob cold between her fingers. She knew what was happening. She knew what she wanted to happen.

When she next licked her lips, it was slow, sensuous, deliberate. Her eyes held a challenge she hoped he wouldn't resist.

From Malfoy's sharp intake of breath she knew that he had seen the challenge. He brought his right hand up and flattened it against the door next to her head. His left hand trailed slowly along the edge of her silk dress, from the point of the deep V-neck all the way up to her shoulder. His fingers just about brushed her bare skin, making goosebumps erupt all over her chest. He caged her against the door, leaning in a little closer, his lips soft and open.

But she had made the mistake to look down as his hand travelled up along her dress. She couldn't help but notice the Dark Mark on his arm. She blanched, her eyes widening, not in lust but in fear. She suppressed those feelings immediately, but it was too late. He hadn't moved away from her, but she saw in his face that the desire was gone. His face had shuttered once more, his grey eyes dark as thunder.

"Don't play with fire if you don't want to get burned, Weasley," he said, hints of disappointment and anger in his voice.

Ginny let go of the door and brought her hands up to his shirt, fingering his buttons. Her eyes were riveted on his. She wanted to see that lightning again. "I do want to burn." The moment she said it, she knew it was true.

Malfoy only shook his head. "That's part of me, Weasley," he said, with a nod to the Mark. "If you can't stand the sight of it, you can't stand the sight of me."

And with an air of finality, he pushed himself away from the door and returned to his desk. He took up his quill again and began to make notes, ignoring her presence.

Ginny waited for him to look up, for herself to find the right words, but as neither seemed to happen, she eventually gave up, and, with a sigh, she decided to leave.

"Goodnight, then, Malfoy," she said over her shoulder, before closing the door behind her.