Beauty Personified

I am neither surprised nor angry when I feel the matress sag underneath the weight of someone else crawling in beside me. Her warmth is welcome against my back, and even though she has been doing this for weeks, it has not lost its comforting feeling.

Ginevra never says anything as she enters my room, nor does she mention it during the day. When the house is quiet and the only sound is the ‘tick tock’ of the grandfather clock, she slips inside my room, and in my bed. She wedges her arm underneath mine and places her hand on my stomach; her head rests itself in the crook of my neck.

During my first weeks at Grimmauld Place I suffered from insomnia, but now that she is here with me, I sleep like a child. In the cold nights that never seem to go away, I find peace in her presence, even if it is only at night.

*

The rain has been especially hard lately, and is a clear sign that the War is getting bloodier each passing day. Her and I are locked inside this house, while everyone else goes to fight. I am unable to leave because I would attract the Death Eaters with the Dark Mark, and she must stay because of her attatchment to Tom Riddle. Both of us are like beacons in the dark, and the others cannot risk being found out. The wards that they have placed upon the house are heavy and ancient, but they afford us a small sense of safety.

But that safety is nothing compared to what I feel at night when her warm breathe is against the back of my neck.

We are alone in this house now, and she doesn’t wait until dark until she crawls into my bed. I will be changing into bed clothes when she lightly knocks at the door and enters. She waits until I crawl into the bed, and soon she follows, after closing the door behind her. Tonight she crawls in, facing me, and grabs onto my upper arm as the thunder roars outside my window.

“The thunder is frightening,” she whisperes, and her breathe is warm against my face.

“There is nothing I can do to stop it,” I tell her. She seems to ignore me, and for the first time she reaches her mouth up to mine and kisses me. Her lips are as warm as her breathe, and I can’t help but kiss her back.

If I thought her very presence was safety, I now know that it is nothing compared to her kisses. She tastes of candy floss, and kisses like someone who is scared and cautious, but still courageous. Before I can even get a better taste of her, she pulls away and tucks her head down. She grabs ahold of my arm and puts it around herself. She is in need of safety just as much as I am.

It is the first morning that she is still there beside me, and I cannot help but kiss the top of her head before I crawl out of the bed, and head downstairs. No one has come back yet, and they probably won’t for a while. No one said the end of war was going to be short.

The Daily Prophet still has death counts on its front pages, and I can’t help but think how many more will die due to low morale. My coffee remains just as sweet though; being part of the Death Eaters does tend to dull your senses quite a bit.

I didn’t hear Ginny come into the kitchen (was she always this quiet?) but I feel her fingers sneak thmeselves in between my own, and all I can think is that maybe not all my senses have been dulled after all.

I could sit like this all day, even all week. But I can hear Potter’s voice coming from the fire place in the living room, so I leave her sitting there and go to talk startegy with the boy who is supposed to save the world.

Our conversations always start out awkward, with the usual preamble to the actual discussion. I have been away from the Death Eaters for almost a year, but they never change their strategy. Even though I cannot be there on the battlefield, I can lend Potter all the knowledge that I have, so that he can break through their lines, and win this war.

Their current strategy is one that the Order cannot break through, but the key to every victory is finding the opponent’s Achilles heal. Lucky for Potter, Voldemort's army tends to get over confident.

“From what you are telling me, Avery is in charge of the assault this time. Concentrate most of your efforts on him. If they do not have a leader they will be like a bunch of hippogriffs with their heads cut off. If it isn’t Avery, then it would probably be Macnair.” Harry Potter is all buisness, but he is a very good buisness man in that respect. I wish him luck, and his head quickly disappears from the flames.

Ginevra is standing in the doorway, and once she sees that Potter is gone, she goes over to sit in the chair closest to me. I do not know what possesses me, but I close the distance between us on me knees, and lay my head on her knees. She short fingers stroke my hair, and for the first time she talks to me.

“Are you ever relieved that your father is no longer around?” For once, someone has asked me about my father’s death, and I am not angry.

“Not at all,” I tell her. “If he were still alive he would be leading those armies. I would have to tell Potter to kill my father.”

“Did you love you father?”

“I loved him with every fiber in my body.”

“Do you think he loved you?” I never knew she could be so direct, or that she of all people would be the one I opened up to. But her hands were magic, and filled me with little waves of peace, and honesty was the only thing I could think to pay her back with.

“I never thought he did, but after I left the Death Eaters… I think it was my betrayal that killed him.” We are both still and quiet except for her hands that move through my hair.

After what seems like hours, I get up and move to the kitchen. My legs are stiff from kneeling beside her, but the pain is easily forgotten when I notice her following me.

She takes over, and orders me to sit down, as she makes tea for the both of us. For the first time I see her smile, and I feel like an idiot as I smile back. For the first time I see the beauty in her freckles, and the dark red hair. Unlike the rest of her family, her eyes are brown, but they are beautiful all the same and all I want to do at that moment is kiss her. Instead I drink my tea, and try not to wince. She didn’t put in enough sugar.

*

She comes into my room even earlier this time, and doesn’t bother to knock. There is no need anymore, and she knows it just as well as I do. She is slow as she walks toward me, and even slower as she wraps her arms around my waist. I don’t know how she can be so patient, especially with her whole family fighting a war neither of us can take part in.

I am careful as I lift her head towards mine, and slow when I begin to kiss her. I can feel her apprehension melt away, and even begin to smile when her hands snake inside my shirt and slowly climb up my back. I refuse to let her take the lead, and take her shirt off all together.

Her skin I white and flawless, and I can’t help but let my hands roam all over her stomach and chest before I push her towards the bed. She sits down, and looks up and smiles at me as she grabs hold of my tousers and pulls them down. I can tell exactly why she smiling, and blushing so furiously. She scoots back on the bed, and rests her head on the pillows, waiting for me join her. I pull off my shirt, and crawl on top of her, and kiss her all over her face, neck and shoulders while she plays my hair.

*

There I no way that I can remember the rest of that night, except for the feeling of her hot skin pressed right up against mine; the way she would gasp in my ear; and the way she bit her lip in the end, before kissing me. She was anxious, scared, but willing and even a little adventurous. Her courage is the only thing about that suprises me about her, and I tell her so.

“I wish I had the courage you have,” she says me, trying to move even closer as we lay in a sweaty heap on top of my bed sheets. “You have done as much for the Order as Harry, and yet you are the one that gets no recognition.” She kisses my neck, sweet and soft before she kisses my mouth.

“You just gave me all the recognition I needed,” I say to her, and she slaps me on the chest lightly. “All I wanted was comfort and safety, and you have given me both.” I say in all seriousness. She kisses me again, a small peck on the lips, and wraps her arms around me, like she does every time before she falls asleep. She whispers something I cannot hear, then her breathe fills my ears, and I am content enough to sleep soundly through the night.

*

Draco woke up in the middle of the night to pull the sheets up over the two of them, and a cool breeze came in his window. When he looked up, and saw her hair spilled all over pillows and sheets. He could not help but think that someone had crept into his room and shot beauty in the back of her head, letting her blood spill over the white linen. He couldn’t help but feel the back of her head, just in case.

As he lay back in bed, and wrapped himself around her again, he could not help but kick the sheets off himself. He knew he was warm enough with her lying there beside him.