The Radiant

-


It was three weeks before Lucius and Ginny saw each other again.

She had been tetchy. She knew that. She had been a real bitch lately and Draco had weathered it stoically, bravely, giving her enough space when she got so bad that she wanted to scream.

The fights were bad. The make-up sex was better.

The invitation had come courtesy of Xerxes. Ginny had absentmindedly ran her fingers through the bird’s ear feathers as she read the letter she held in her hand.

“What is it?”

Draco was settled in an armchair, his reading glasses pushed down on his nose, the paper folded in his lap. He looked older than his years. Ginny smiled at him, lightly tugging on Xerxes’ ear tufts.

“You look lovely.” Draco smiled back at her. “Your father wants us to come for dinner and drinks tonight. Are you up for it?” He closed the paper and stood languidly.

“Sure. Formal?”

“I think so. He didn’t specify but if I remember his poncy waistcoats correctly–”

“Which you do –“

“Right. So formal, I think.”

Draco bit lightly at her neck.

“Wear the red tonight, Gin. Please.” She sighed. “Please!”

“Draco, I don’t want to bait your father with any inflammatory colours…”

“Oh, he won’t care. Please. Please!”

She laughed, tugging at his hair, and acquiesced.

“Fine, you.”


---


Ginny stretched out, the hot water sloshing a little over the side of the tub as she moved. Draco was humming tunelessly on the other side of the bathroom door, picking out ties, or maybe reading again, or maybe just aimlessly walking.

She batted a tendril of hair out of her eyes and sank into the water up to her neck before starting to scrub at her legs, spreading the soap in swirled bubbles.

“Gin!”

His voice rang through the door.

“Yes?”

“Where is the purple cravat?”

She thought for a second.

“Check my jewellery box.”

She heard him walk off.

Ginny slid her right hand underneath the surface of the water and lifted her right leg out, resting it on the side of the bath. She found her clitoris quickly, sliding her fingertips over it again and again. Using her left hand, she teased at both of her nipples.

She heard Draco move back to the bedroom.

“Where is the iron?”

Ginny moved her fingers faster.

“The – the … my desk.”

“Okay.”

He moved away again and she breathed heavily, spreading her legs farther and tilting her head back.

Oh god –

As if the fingers touching her were rougher and larger, slipping inside of her and

“Jacket?”

“Closet!”

teasing her relentlessly, bringing those fingers up to a smiling mouth, square chin and jaw, sharp angled face coming into focus, blond –

Ginny came silently, her mouth opening and closing, her right leg jerking mercilessly.


---


“How lovely you look.”

Ginny slipped her cloak off of her shoulders and handed it Lucius.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.” She smiled briefly at him and then turned to Draco, slowly adjusting the silky purple cravat tied at his throat, letting her fingers brush over his adam’s apple.

Draco grabbed her hand and kissed the palm.

Lucius cleared his throat.

“Draco.”

“Evening, father. What’s for supper tonight?” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Trout.” The answer was short.

“Wonderful.”

Ginny turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She did look lovely. The red dress that Draco had so lovingly extolled was a wonderful satin confection, a deep crimson bordering on burgundy, and it sat very well on her. She shifted her hips a little as if to look at her bottom in the mirror but caught herself in time. When she looked up, she noticed Lucius looking at her through the reflection. Ginny turned from the mirror to face him.

“I wore my house colours.”

She wasn’t sure if she was baiting him or not.

“I had noticed, Miss Weasley.”

He wasn’t sure if she was baiting him or not.

Lucius nodded once, and Ginny noticed that he seemed terse. She quickly told herself that it was not because he had watched her stroking Draco’s throat as she had adjusted his necktie.


---


Ginny sullenly twirled her spoon in her chocolate mousse. Dinner had been, obviously, fantastic, but she was feeling warm and itchy and was bored of the dinner conversation. She wanted to kick off her shoes and drink whisky on a couch, not swan about in a chilly old dining room. She felt like she was eight years old again. She felt whiny and immature but she was raring for an argument.

“Ginny, are you going to just play with your food?” She looked up and Draco was smiling at her.

“Maybe.” She dipped a finger in it and then quickly licked the dessert off, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Apparently Lucius was in a tetchy mood too, because the words flew from his mouth before he could stop them. Ginny and Draco both looked at him. He shifted in his seat and then furrowed his brow. “Where are your manners, Miss Weasley?”

Her brow furrowed to match his, and Lucius realized, belatedly, that she seemed to be angling for an argument, as if she had been waiting, hoping to provoke him.

“Was your upbringing truly so hideous that you have to revert to using your fingers as utensils?”

Draco turned pale and closed his eyes as Ginny’s back straightened. She flushed, and glared at Lucius.

“You sanctimonious old prig!” Lucius’ mouth fell open. Draco groaned. How quickly this was all degenerating. “You have no right to talk about upbringing!”

“Ginny!” Draco looked affronted, but then switched to mollifying. “Just take a deep breath. Let’s not ruin the evening.” He shot a look at Lucius. “You too, father. You two are more similar than you might care to admit, and I guarantee that’ll result in a fight if measures aren’t taken.”

Ginny ignored him and glared at Lucius, raising her finger to shake it in his face.

“You leave my bloody family alone.”

He grabbed her finger.

“Don’t you dare point at me in my own home.”

“Then why don’t you try being a more gracious host!”

“Gracious company deserves gracious hosting. You, my dear, are not gracious.”

Ginny’s brow furrowed further and she clicked her teeth in frustration.

“Oh ho – Lucius Malfoy, paragon! Picture of graciousness, even when he is bespoiling young children –” her eyes flashed and he knew immediately what she meant, even if his son was still unaware “– the perfect fucking picture of courteousness!” Ginny threw her napkin on the table and stood so fast she nearly knocked her chair over. “Excuse me for this terribly trite outbreak, but I have had enough for tonight.” She strode out of the room.

Lucius exhaled and raised his eyebrows.

“Father! Look what you’ve done.” Draco was furious, standing to his feet with his hands planted on the dining room table.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Draco. It’s not just one person who starts an argument, you know. That girl had something to do with it too.” He leaned back in his chair, staring at his son, his hands clasped loosely across his stomach.

“You couldn’t just behave yourself, could you? Could you?” Draco shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. “You were perfectly fine the other night. Was that just to lure us into your life?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Draco opened his eyes.

“Where did she go?”

“Somewhere, by the looks of it, in the vicinity of the library. Or my study. And you’d better pray she didn’t go in there because then I will be forced to hide her.”

Draco blanched.

“Don’t even joke about things like that!” He stood completely. “I have to go find her. Don’t bother following.”

---

Damn.

Draco had been gone twenty minutes now, and Lucius had a feeling he wasn’t coming back. She had truly made him frustrated, but he was regretting baiting her now and wanted to seek her out to see if she would consider a truce. He did like having company at the Manor, and he did like seeing his son more often.

He sighed and got up, starting in the direction of his library.

When he didn’t find them there, he tersely made his way to the study.

---

Lucius opened the door to his study and, despite years of learning how to school his expressions and reactions, skills that were reminding remnants of his violent past, his jaw nearly dropped as he surveyed what was in front of him.

Ginny Weasley was spread out on his desk, her head resting on the edge closest to the doorway, her hips pulled down to the edge where he rested his elbows while he wrote – while he wrote – her body like a metronome, sliding hotly across the desk with every frenzied drive. Lucius looked down at the floor around the scene and noticed his writing papers and his ink pot scattered haphazardly. Goddamn. Continuing his appraisal, he noticed the high heeled shoe that was lying, dead on its side, under his armchair by the fire, and the pair of female underpants that was hanging – hanging! – off of his desk lamp. Ginny’s dress was partially pulled down, exposing one white breast while so cruelly keeping the other cupped and hidden. The skirt of her dress, however, was bunched up around her hips, and settled between her legs was his son. Draco had his arms clamped around the outsides of her pale thighs, and Lucius could see how his son’s knuckles were white and pink. He was holding on hard. She would probably be bruised come morning.

Her hair was hanging down, unbound, and the red curtain was swaying, rippling thickly with every thrust. Lucius tilted his head to the side on a miniscule angle and stared into the rolling sheen of that hair, noticing the subtle variations of red that were gleaming across it as a result of the movement of both of their bodies. Such lovely hair, really. Long. It was not quite brushing the floor of his study, but it was close.

He watched her move, watched the way his son was gripping at her, driving into her, and for a ridiculous, quick moment he pictured Ginny beneath himself, spread out on the desk like that, his son gone from the picture and not missed. What it would be like then, then, if he was fucking her? He would wrap a hand around that slender throat, would be sure to pull her dress down all the way to her waist to expose both breasts, watch them as they moved with his pace, place her ankles on his shoulders, bend her body down into itself, go deeper, go harder.

Lucius shook his head.

His appraisal had been only a few seconds at most. Due to their furious rutting, they had not heard him open the door. He clicked his throat and spoke.

“There are locks on doors for a reason.”

The effect was magnificent, to say the least.

Draco’s head snapped up and the expressions on his face shuffled quickly from embarrassment to amusement to anger to resignation and then a sort of defiance. Lucius wasn’t sure if his son was going to finish or continue his crazed fucking, and he wasn’t sure which option he wanted to occur –

Before he could ruminate any further, the choice was made for Draco.

Ginny, upon looking, upside-down, at the figure in the doorway, opened her mouth, as if to berate or maybe scream, or maybe tell Draco to stop.

Rather, she came.

Both Lucius and Draco stared at the young woman in mild shock as Ginny’s back slid up into a sweet, sharp arc, her hands flying down to claw at the smooth wood of the desk beneath her body, the mouth widening as she began to trumpet her release in the most animalistic sounds that either of them had ever heard. Her voice started out low and growling and escalated into a near-cry as she brayed and as her body bucked. Draco had to snap his hands down onto her hips to keep her from thrashing off of the desk and possibly hurting herself as she came in rolling furrows of heat and pleasure.

She kept her eyes on Lucius the entire time.

For his part, Draco came quietly, holding his face blank and unmoving as his hips stuttered jerkily. He fell to his elbows overtop of Ginny and both faces turned to look at the man leaning in the doorjamb. Draco had the grace to look partially mortified and yet also defiant. Ginny, however, wasn’t looking directly at Lucius anymore and was instead gazing somewhere around the area of his knees, her cheeks flushed and her mouth open as she grabbed heavy breaths, her chest rounding and flattening erratically. She looked surprised. Embarrassed, maybe.

“Hello, father.” Draco bit back a smile.

“Libertines.” Lucius raised both eyebrows, arms crossed over his chest, as he continued to stare.

Draco laughed out loud.

“You’ve probably already done this on your desk. You’ve probably done worse!” Lucius didn’t deign to answer – he had had sex on his desk before and he had done worse, many times over, far before Draco was around. Instead, he chose to cluck his tongue at them, smirking slightly, as he unfolded his arms and turned to leave.

As he walked away, purposely leaving the door open, he looked back over his shoulder, meeting Ginny’s eyes.

“I hope, Miss Weasley, that you are feeling… better. Please do clean up after yourselves.”

Her eyes shut tightly and she pulled her skirt down from where it was perched up on her hips.

-