A Discerning Palate

Draco woke up alone.

Usually that was a good thing, but he’d expected to wake up with one Ginevra Weasley next to him. And he’d expected that certain young miss to be available to him again. Merlin, he’d left her alone all night so she could heal. He was, by no means, finished with her.

So where the hell had she gotten off to?

He looked around the room, his eyesight a bit blurry, but from what he could tell, none of her things lay strewn about the floor. No shoes, no hair fripperies, no dainty white knickers. Nothing of her seemed to be anywhere in the room.

She’d gone.

Women did not leave Draco Malfoy in the dead of the night. They clung, whimpering and begging, offering him whatever he would have of them, if only he did not go.

He was the one that slipped away in the predawn hours, gently disentangling his limbs, leaving a note or some other such gentlemanly nonsense.

Draco sat up, blinking, clearing the slumber from his eyes and took another look.

Nope.

Still no Ginny. No knickers. No note.

Who the fuck did she think she was? Was this some ploy to get him to remember her?

Well, it was bloody well working. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

In all honesty, that took some spine to leave his bed. She was a fireball, his Ginny.

And as he drug himself from the bed and headed to the shower, he chose to ignore the fact that he thought of her as “his”.

Though later, he would console himself with the rationale that she was, indeed, his. Like a new pet, or toy. It didn’t mean anything else.

Especially when he saw her in a deep and heated, but somehow intimate conversation with Harry Potter.

****************

“So what happened Harry?” Gin asked with concern.

“I don’t know what to do. I want to be with her, but the world is stacked against us. When war comes, and it will, she will be safer with her family.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

“Merlin, I don’t know. If I keep her with me, Voldemort will kill her.”

“If he has any inkling, she’s already a target.” Ginny said sadly. She paused to consider. “Have you wondered if this is a trick? To get close to you, I mean.”

“Do you really think that about her?”

“No, but I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong. And it almost cost us both our lives.” She replied, remembering her first year.

“It doesn’t matter at this point. I love her.” His voice was stern and soft.

“In her own way, I think she loves you too.” Ginny put her arm around Harry to let him know that she would be whatever strength that she could be. Just that she was there for him.

He returned the gesture in an embrace and Ginny leaned into him.

“Isn’t this cozy?” A deep voice drawled.

“It is. Quite. Thank you.” Ginny snapped as she pulled away to look at the intruder, who happened to be none other than Malfoy.

“I don’t recall inviting you.” Harry returned.

“I don’t recall asking. But Ginny and I have some unfinished business.”

“I believe it was all finished last night. That was what you wanted right? Well, you got it. Game Over. I’ll see you around.” She turned back to Harry.

“Since you asked, it wasn’t what I wanted. I’m not finished with you.”

Ginny dug down deep within herself and let her insecurities pour forth, molded into a verbal dagger, her only weapon against him. Because in the cold darkness, when she’d watched him sleep, she realized that he was it for her. There would be no one else. And in that moment, came the fear. What could she ever hope for with him? That he would keep her in a really nice flat and that he would still come see her on weekends after he’d married appropriate to his station?

No, Ginny wanted it all, or nothing. And with Draco Malfoy, it would have to be nothing.

“Yes you are, because I’m finished with you. I lost my virginity to the great Slytherin Sex God. It was fun. Time to get back to our real lives, you know, the one where you think I’m shite because I’m a Weasley?”

“Perhaps I’m finished with you after all. One could forget that shock of atrocious hair, ragged robes and chewed fingernails when faced with a tight, virgin cunt. But after the chase…” Draco bit out and stalked down the halls, his robes flowing out behind him.

Ginny waited until he was gone before collapsing into wrenching sobs.

Harry stroked her back softly, not speaking. He knew there were no words that would make it all okay. He could just hold her.

********

Hermione rolled over, a languorous feeling stretching through her limbs.

Ron was on his face, snoring rather loudly, his mouth half open and a small bit of drool on the pillow.

He was quite the picture in the morning, but her amusement quickly faded as she felt his large, strong hand on her breast.

Remembering the night before, the cadence of her breath and the direction of her thoughts was instantly diverted. To actually be able to study his hands in the bright light of morning, to see them, how they worked. The way his veins were visible as he flexed, the abject contrast in the broad, hard digits laying against the softness of her skin. The contraction of the muscles as they worked, the very pleasure that lay in that touch- to see the strength that held there, but the absolute tenderness with which he touched her.

She needed him to touch her again.

Hermione strained to touch her lips to his.

“Mione,” he mumbled.

She paused to look at him.

He was still asleep.

She reached her hand beneath the covers, searching.

Men were such wonderful creatures. The things that they could do on instinct…

************

Draco was still not sure if that had really happened.

The whole thing with the Weaselette.

Had she really turned him down?

Draco was sure that this was all just a dream, and in reality, he was still in bed sleeping. And when he woke up, Ginny would still be there and he would have himself a good shag before class.

Maybe two.

A hand clamped on his shoulder. “So, did she really taste like a strawberry?”

“Yes.”

Blaise smirked. “You know, I’ve decided it’s a good thing that you shag them all first.”

Draco turned to look at the other Slytherin. “Oh? And why is that? Besides the fact that I always get them first, whether it pleases you or no.”

Blaise was unaffected. “Test drive.”

“You’re a cocksucker, Zabini.” Pansy interjected as she caught up to them.

“I could be, for the right woman.” Blaise winked at Pansy.

“Don’t waste that tired charm on me,” then she added snidely, “Boy-O.”

“Want to go look for some strawberries?” He threw back at her.

“No. I know where they grow the sweetest, don’t I, Draco?” She blew him a decidedly fake kiss and outpaced them.

“What’s up her arse?” Blaise looked genuinely confused.

“Who knows? You know how she is.”

But that wasn’t to be the end of their encounters. Ginny was trying to catch up to Pansy when she ran smack into Blaise.

“Watch it, you git.” She snarled.

Blaise, ever the gentleman, offered his hand and helped her up. “My apologies, fair lady.”

“Sod off, you whoring bastards.” She scrambled to her feet and rushed off.

“What did you do?” Blaise looked as if he was about burst with mirth.

“Fuck you, Zabini.” Draco said quietly and strode toward class.

And Blaise, all he could do was laugh, much to everyone’s chagrin.