♥ "Vertigo" for AntrumAngelus ♥
Title: Vertigo
Author: lyndsiefenele
Rating: High/Extremely Naughty/R to NC-17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None, other than the rating
Author's Notes: Many thanks to all my supportive, wonderful friends, and especially to the mods of the exchange for all your hard work.
I approached this as a series of vignettes, and so it skips large chunks of time, as well as appears a bit out of sequence.
Summary: A story of falling.
Vertigo
What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.
Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being
On the Edge
Her hands fisted in his hair as she pulled herself against him. In the instant before she slammed her lips to his, she experienced a sense of wonder at how the course of her life had directed her here, to this moment, with him. And then the thought flashed away, replaced by the taste of him, the feel of his stubble scraping against her skin, and, winding its way into her brain, his scent, twining with the overwhelming need to be close, to touch every part of him.
She moaned as his hands settled on her hips, and then lower, as he pulled her close against him. She felt the warmth of him seeping into her skin, and the hardness of him as she ground her hips against him. Something like madness seized her, and she brought her hands down, to his neck, running along his shoulders, down his chest. Down toward his waist they went, and then up again, pulling at the buttons on his shirt. Then she was nipping at the bared skin there as his fingers traced along the waistband of her skirt.
There were a few disorienting seconds of sensory deprivation as he stepped back and yanked her jumper over her head, and she felt weak when his warmth flooded her again as he pulled her back and his mouth found just the right spot on her neck. Her bra soon joined the jumper on the floor, and then she was falling, falling into the softness of the sofa cushions.
His mouth was making a slow, tingling trail from her neck, and when he teased her nipple with his tongue she arched her back and cried out. She felt the curve of his smile against her breast and laughed, a throaty sound that turned breathy as the hand that had been teasing her thigh moved higher and higher to push aside her knickers.
She cried out again at the feeling of fire that rocketed through her, burning through her nerve endings, leaving them sensitized. She arched against him again, and he yanked her knickers down her legs for better access.
She needed to touch all of him, feel all of him. Fumbling at his belt with nerveless fingers, she released it and was gratified by the way he twitched when she shoved her hand down his trousers. With a sound of frustration she pulled it out again after brushing her hand along his length, cursing that his tailored wardrobe was fitted too well for more. She managed the top button and then his mouth was on hers again as he rolled a nipple between two fingers, and then she was pushing down his clothing as he was pushing up her skirt, and then he was inside her, hot and hard and right.
They moved together for what seemed like forever and no time at all before his thrusts became more rapid and then, trembling, he stopped and she could feel him pulsing inside her.
She ran her hands down his back and through his hair as his breathing slowly evened, hot and harsh against her neck. After a few moments he raised his head. There was something indefinably beautiful about him in that moment, and as she reached up to touch his face, he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and languorous, making the world spin. When she could think, and not just feel, again, he was pulling out, slow and excruciating. She wanted to protest the emptiness, but then his fingers were there, and in an embarrassingly short amount of time she was clutching at him as her vision went black around the edges.
***
Moving Toward the Precipice
It had all started, innocently enough, with a cup of tea. After several years gallivanting on the continent, the prodigal son had returned, and his mother-wise woman that she was-had decided that he should learn the company business from the ground up. Which is why, on this sunny Monday morning, Ginny Weasley found Draco Malfoy sitting in her office, and worst off all-demanding that she get him tea!
"Get your own," she responded as she set her purse down on her desk rather more forcefully than necessary. "And this is my desk."
"Obviously," he replied with a sneer, eying the pictures of her various family members that lined one edge. "But I've decided I like the light here better, so you'll have to move over there." He pointed to the empty desk on the other side of the room.
A subtle rage tingled along her skin, coalescing in a frown. "Look here, Malfoy, I've sat at this desk for a year and a half, you can't just take it. It isn't done!"
He stood, and for a second she thought perhaps she'd won. "No, you listen, Weasley. My mother might have got the brilliant idea that I need to 'learn the business,'" he began, a nasty edge to the last words, "but one day I'll own this company. So if you think you're going to have any future here, you'd better remember that." He looked down at her, and she had the sudden urge to smash her fist into his face. "Now. Tea? Two sugars, please."
As she stormed down to the lounge and back to their now-shared office, she vowed that Draco Malfoy would never get the best of her.
"Your tea," she spat, nearing slamming it down in front him. In her short absence he'd moved all of her belongings into a scattered pile on the other desk. "Malfoy!" she shrieked. "You can't just- It's all mixed about! You've combined incoming expense reports with outgoing payment authorizations, and-" She jumped and turned at the atrocious noise from behind her.
"What the fuck did you do to my tea?" he nearly shouted, the sourest look she'd ever seen on his face. A smile stole across her lips.
"Whatever do you mean, Malfoy? It's just plain old tea, two sugars." As the look on his face did not improve, she mentally patted herself on the back. "Oh..." she added, trailing off, as if in thought. "Did I confuse the sugar and the salt again? Silly me. I'm always doing things like that. So sorry!"
She ignored the murderous look he gave her and turned back to the mess he'd made of her carefully-ordered paperwork.
***
"You're just cross she likes me better," she taunted several months later, as they walked back down the hall toward their office. When his pinched expression didn't change, she giggled. "Admit it. Your mum likes me better."
"Just because she said she liked your idea for a new refund procedure doesn't mean-"
"Your mum likes me better," she interrupted in a sing-song voice. It was a supremely triumphant moment. He hadn't even wanted to believe that she'd been taking tea with his mother for months before he returned, that they actually got on quite well. Then Narcissa had invited them both to tea in her office and had been resoundingly enthusiastic about an idea of Ginny's while brushing by Draco's.
Of course, he did have to ruin her triumph by being so decidedly pitiful about the whole affair. "Hey listen," she said, more soberly, "I think you've come up with a quite good plan for benefits, but you need to think on the seniority aspect a bit more."
He didn't say anything, but started packing up his briefcase. There was something so downcast about his posture that she wondered if she'd crossed some invisible line, and then wondered why she cared.
"You know," she tried again, willing to make peace, "we didn't really get anything much to eat in there, and I'm quite hungry. If you want, we could go down to that shop on the corner with those scones you like, grab a bite."
He studied her, inscrutable, and she knew he was going to refuse. What had possessed her to ask him to do something so personal with her? It wasn't like they were friends.
"Sure," he responded finally, and she felt the release of a tension she hadn't known. "Your treat?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned away to grab her bag. "Of course, Malfoy, since I'm the one with a massive inheritance and all."
She thought she saw the edge of a grin as she turned back.
They walked down to the corner cafe through the crisp fall air in a silence that was more companionable than anything, but Ginny found herself to be unsurprised. They did spend most of their days together in silence, each engrossed in their own work, until one stopped to ask a question of the other.
As she sat down across from him, it suddenly struck her that he'd been off all day. As they made small talk and ate their pastries, she saw the effort it took him to keep himself in the conversation, and the darkness behind his eyes.
A lull came, and she looked him over, feeling concerned. After a quick mental battle, she decided she'd rather speak out. "What's wrong?" she asked, painfully aware that the question could very well ruin the rapport they'd built.
Surprise flashed across his features momentarily, before it was replaced by a shock of something raw and open. He looked away, and she thought she'd for sure crossed the line this time. "It's.... Today's the anniversary of my father's death."
"Oh," she said, now surprised herself. She felt momentarily awkward. What condolences should she offer for a man she'd utterly despised? Looking over at the son, though, she knew that how she felt about a dead man had no relevance now. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He shrugged. "That's the idea. I don't even know why it should still bother me. It's been so long...."
She wondered what she could say or do. She'd never been particularly good at offering comfort. "He was your father. You're allowed to remember him, especially today." She wondered at Narcissa's behaviour. Surely she hadn't forgotten either; yet she had been awfully cold to her son when it was put in proper context.
Draco sighed. After a moment he seemed to gather himself together, and offered her the last of his scones. As she reached across the table, toward his plate, a part of her felt like she was carefully stepping across a chasm of infinite depth.
But he didn't yank the plate away at the last second or anything, so she dismissed the idea as silly as she smiled at him.
***
Several days later and Draco was still treating her with a politeness that bordered on rude, after the cordiality that had developed over their months of sharing an office. Ginny wondered what had gotten into him, or what she might do to salvage the situation. She'd have to work with him for what she hoped would be a long career with the company, so trying to fix the situation was a must. But he had been hard to pin down. Every time she tried to speak with him he seemed to have pressing business elsewhere.
Of course, she forgot about all that after she returned from Narcissa's office. Buoyant, she grinned at him as she returned to their shared space, unmindful of anything but her current excitement.
He didn't seem to quite catch her mood at first, but he did have something to say to her, finally. "Here," he said, dangling a pair of keys in front of her.
"What?" she asked, confused. They looked like the keys to the filing cabinet.
"For the desk drawers." She furrowed her brow, noticing for the first time that her things weren't quite where she had left them. "I thought you might like your old desk back. It was rather rude of me to take it like that."
"Oh bugger the desks!" she cried. "I've just been promoted, so I'll have my own office upstairs!"
He congratulated her, and at the back of her mind she wondered if the cold Draco was gone for good. It wasn't until he'd gone off somewhere or other that her mind finally caught up to everything that had just happened. She looked at her old but new desk, noticing the careful way he'd moved everything over just the way she'd had it. She ran her hand along the edge of a beautiful blotter that hadn't been before. Suddenly, she didn't quite so much feel like celebrating. She wondered what the gesture had cost him, and realized it was really quite kind-and she had completely brushed it aside.
***
"That's the problem with these big corporations," her dad was saying. "They're just in it for the bottom line. They don't feel responsible to their customers."
Ginny, startled out of her private thoughts, looked up, wondering at the change in conversation. They'd previously been discussing possible baby names for Bill and Fleur's next on the way.
"Right you are, Dad," George responded. "Been two months and Wallog's can't even fix an 'accounting error'." There was a clear note of derision in his voice. "And me, without all the capital all this time. It's not like it was their money in the first place since they owe me a refund."
"You should write them. I'm sure it could all be fixed up straightaway," Molly put in. "Maybe a reminder note or two would hurry things along."
George sighed. "I've tried that, Mum. All I got was a letter something like, 'Thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, due to the ongoing transfer of our financial documents, we are unable to access your records at the current time, but rest assured that we will be contacting you with resolution as soon as possible.' It was signed by Draco Malfoy, of all people, so I shouldn't wonder at the delay."
Ginny winced, recognizing the form letter she and Draco had designed after they'd been put in charge of the financial records for the buyout of the potions supply business. It had been a huge mess that was just now starting to get under control. They'd marvelled at Wallog's ability to make their steady profits when they'd not been able to find proper invoices for half of the customers.
"Actually, I doubt he ever saw your account at all, as it's I who've got most of that documentation under review." She liked to believe that they had a good enough working relationship now that Draco wouldn't be purposefully vindictive to one of her brothers. She did eat lunch with the man, after all. "You should have said something sooner. I could have cleared it up for you weeks ago."
"Oh, right," he replied, looking slightly chagrined. "I always forget you work for the Malfoys."
"I rather think I'm better off forgetting it," Ron chipped in, still harbouring some habitual resentment for Draco after all these years.
"Well, there you are, George! Ginny will fix it for you. Would anyone like some homemade chocolate ice cream?" Molly, correctly interpreting the look in Ginny's eyes, deftly changed the subject to something she knew the other members of the family couldn't fail to latch on to.
***
She should have knocked, but it had been one of those mornings. Everyone she needed to speak to about urgent matters was in pointless meetings, there were a couple of emergencies that had suddenly fallen into her lap, and to top it off, she'd spilled coffee down the front of her blouse and her cleaning charm had set more of the stain than it had got out.
"Draco, I've got some papers for you to sign," she began, trying to wiggle the documents out of the stack she carried without the rest sliding everywhere. "My brother's shop actually, there's a-" She'd finally looked up, to see that Draco was definitely not alone in his office. A girl from marketing-Sheila or Sharon or something-was seated on his desk with her skirt hiked up and Draco was looking over her shoulder in surprise and guilt. Ginny looked away. "Er- I'll come back."
She was certain she was burning bright red, and for some reason she couldn't get the image of Draco's hand on Shelley's thigh out of her mind. It wasn't like- Well, it was certainly inappropriate behaviour for the office.
"Weasley, wait!" she heard from behind her as she was halfway out the door. And she actually did. She barely registered Sidney slipping out the door as she turned to face the man in question. He stopped in front of her, opening his mouth and then closing it again. "Er... I'm sorry about that," he said finally.
"Oh, that?" She was definitely sure that she was at least a nice pink colour by now. "Yeah, it's.... Don't worry about it. I should have knocked."
He seemed to be studying her for a moment, and she felt a sudden surge of embarrassment. She shifted the stack of papers, trying to cover the stain on her blouse, and only succeeded in nearly toppling the lot of them. He reached out to grab at the pile, and as his hand brushed hers she suddenly wondered when the day had taken this surreal turn, and why she was so fascinated by the undone buttons on his shirt. She wondered if she might be going mad, that such a small thing could take up so much of her vision.
He was looking at her in a rather confused manner now, and she felt like a complete nutter. "I'll just... I'll just... go."
"Hey." He reached out and touched her sleeve, and his eyes met hers. There was a question there that she couldn't quite interpret. After a minute, she realized she was staring, but his expression didn't change. "The papers?" he asked finally, and she was left with the sensation that she'd just missed something important.
"Oh, right."
Walking back after straightening out the business with George's accounts, she wondered what on Earth had made everything so awkward, and what she could do to fix it.
***
He looked different today. She couldn't quite pick out why. Perhaps it was that she still felt awkward after the tart-in-the-office incident? Apparently they were ignoring it, because he'd stopped by her office for their usual Friday working lunch as though nothing had happened.
Narcissa had started it. One day during another long week during some takeover or another she'd declared they worked too much and that for their own health they'd better get out of the office. She'd told them to take a long lunch break, take work if they must, but to get out for a bit on her Sickle. So ever since then, though there had been a marked decline in actual productivity, they still went nearly every Friday to a nearby cafe.
"Have you had your hair trimmed?" she blurted out, sometime after their drinks order was placed.
"Not recently," he replied, looking at her quizzically. "Is it getting scruffy?"
"No, no. It's fine." She considered him for a moment. "I don't think I've seen you wear that shade of blue before. Maybe that's it."
"Maybe it's what?" Now he was definitely frowning, looking down at his shirt. "Is something wrong with this colour?"
"No." Now she was really wishing she'd kept her speculations to herself. "You just look different than usual."
"I see." He pondered that for a moment, and she could tell that he was still curious. "Good different or bad different?"
Definitely a good different. Too good, really. Rolling her eyes, she quickly put a lid on that direction of thought. "I don't think I've ever seen you look bad, Draco."
He laughed, and the smile in his eyes made her smile in response. "You know, flattery will get you everywhere, especially since we all know you're trying to sleep your way to the top."
It was a cheeky remark, but referenced an incident that at the time had been uncomfortable but had later turned humorous. A disgruntled former employee had been let go, and blustered about blaming just about everyone else for his incompetence, including insinuating that Ginny hadn't got to her position on merits alone. It was ridiculous, since Narcissa herself did most of the selecting for promotion, but apparently the man hadn't known that.
Of course, the attempt at humour fell a bit flat when images of him with his shirt unbuttoned filled her head. Luckily the waitress came then to take their order, so she was sure he didn't notice.
They chatted off and on about inconsequentials for the rest of the meal, and Ginny lingered a little on their way back to the office, enjoying the feeling of autumn in the air. They were just about back to their building when he stopped her, and the vague feeling of relief that had come over her vanished.
"Look, about the other day." His hands were in his pockets and she could see the tension across his shoulders.
"It's alright, really, you don't-"
"I just wanted you to know that-"
They'd both started talking at the same time. Not wanting to have this particular conversation in the first place, Ginny forged on. "Listen, it's no big deal. It's none of my business, and you don't need to explain anything to me."
He frowned. "I know I don't need to explain anything, but I want to." She considered this for a moment, and he must have seen her resignation reflected in her posture or expression, because he continued, "Briana and I were involved for a short time about a year ago. She'd just come to tell me she'd accepted a position with a firm in South America, and, well, what you saw just sort of happened. It wasn't- I don't normally do that sort of thing."
Well of course he didn't. She knew that; that's what had made it so surprising. "Perhaps you still have feelings for her," she heard herself saying, to her own astonishment.
"That's just it. I don't. It was more habit than anything else." He still held lines of tension, and she wondered why it was so important to him to make this point.
"Alright." She squeezed his arm briefly before adding, "I won't tell Narcissa. You needn't worry."
"Right," he said in a tone that sounded the opposite. "Yes. Thank you."
And she knew, with a frisson of cold knowledge, that it wasn't alright, that she'd somehow misread him once again. But if he hadn't been trying to ask her not to report him, then what had he been trying to get at?
***
"They've been talking about Ministry reform for years now." Arthur was sitting in his favourite chair by the fireplace after another of Molly's excellent meals. She always did tend to go a bit overboard during the holidays and Ginny always ate until she couldn't fit in one more bite.
"I think they're more serious about it now than they've ever been, particularly with some of the tax collection problems lately." Harry's eyes flicked over to Ginny ever-so-quickly, and she narrowly avoided rolling hers in return. It didn't surprise her that he had apparently been digging around in the Malfoys' business. He was still wildly overprotective of her despite their breakup and had never liked her working for Narcissa.
"I think reform's a great idea," she chimed in. "The only tax collection issues I've seen are where the Ministry loses all the paperwork you fill out on time." Harry's lips compressed ever so slightly, and she resisted a sigh. He persisted in thinking that she was having the wool pulled over her eyes. Although, she supposed it was better than the alternative-him thinking she was in on the conspiracy of the day.
"Now dears, let's have no more of the shop talk." Molly, as usual, sensed an argument from ten paces and stopped it in its tracks.
***
Something was different. She didn't want to believe it so. It was easier not to.
She was scared. If it wasn't in her head (it wasn't, it wasn't), then everything would change. What did it mean?
She could deny her feelings and her intuition as much as she liked, but the truth was that she knew exactly what all of it meant. What it really came down to was whether or not she was willing to take the next step. She was standing on the edge of an impossibly deep chasm. In stepping forward she could fall; fall, fall on down into the dark, if he didn't catch her.
She knocked on his office door and he looked up. He smiled and she returned it. She hoped it wasn't too bright. She was terrified he would read her emotions on her face, so she tried to hold back. She wondered if he would notice her opposite reaction and wonder if something was wrong because of her reticence. It was too difficult. How was one supposed to act exactly the same when everything was different?
The bright spring sunshine was flooding his office with a yellow light that flamed his hair, and she wondered that nature itself wasn't trying to tell her something. He looked so good, and she wanted to move forward, to touch him.
She stepped forward and handed him the folders she'd been carrying. His eyes lingered, and once again she had the feeling he was going to say something, but he didn't speak.
***
She should have been drinking more. Maybe it would have helped to numb her against the helplessness that was swamping her as she watched him laugh and joke with their co-workers, who'd thrown this impromptu celebration for him.
Except that in her current mood more alcohol would have only made her maudlin and she didn't want to make a spectacle, or reveal that which she'd spent futile months suppressing.
None of it mattered anymore, as he was leaving. For all these years they had always been promoted within weeks of each other, always equal. Yet now Narcissa had finally given him a promotion that put him above her, with no other openings. It wasn't so much that which was causing her current state of upset as it was that now he'd have to travel, quite a bit. Their lunches would end, their daily banter would be gone, and she didn't know why it should matter. After months of ruthlessly shoving away her infatuation and convincing herself that he didn't care for her, it shouldn't matter that he was going away. It should be a good thing, really. Only she knew she'd miss him terribly.
A flash of blond out of the corner of her eye made her turn, but to her surprise it was Narcissa who took a seat next to her.
"Good evening, Ginevra." There was always something about the older woman that put her slightly on edge. Something about the way she always seemed to be assessing her.
"Good evening to you, Narcissa. Are you enjoying yourself?" Ginny's attempt to perk herself up sounded flat to her ears.
Narcissa laughed, a refined, incongruous sound to their surroundings. "Much more than my son, I daresay. Everyone seems to be a bit intimidated by my presence." She turned her piercing eyes on the girl next to her. "Except for you, of course."
Ginny attempted a smile. "I've always been grateful for the particular interest you've taken in me." She wasn't sure what else she could say that wouldn't make her sound like a complete brown noser.
"Well, my dear, I knew from the moment I hired you that you could go far. Hard working, smart, and no pushover." Narcissa sipped her wine delicately. "Not to mention you weren't likely to be intimidated by my son."
Ginny frowned. "I suppose after all of the trouble at Hogwarts it would be difficult for me to think him intimidating any longer."
Narcissa's look was sharp but sympathetic. "You know that I don't like discussing the past. But you should know that it's why I've always tried to put you two near each other. After he first returned I quickly realised that you were one of the only people who could keep him in line, stop him from becoming too... well. I thought that you were a good influence."
Ginny was stunned. She hadn't realised how purposeful and calculating Narcissa's actions had been.
Seeing the look on the younger woman's face, Narcissa put in quickly, "I should make it clear that I would never have promoted you as I have if I didn't truly believe you deserved it. It just so happens that there was a fringe benefit to be found." Narcissa set down her glass and patted Ginny's hand. "The truth be told, I had hoped-" Leaning in, she lowered her voice. "It is my hope that one day you and Draco will be heading up the company, when I retire."
"I-" Ginny didn't know what to say. "Thank you. I'll try to prove myself worthy of your trust."
Narcissa's smile was enigmatic. "You already have." Looking back over to where her son was talking to one of the sales managers, his expression increasingly frustrated, she said, "Now. I think it's time someone rescue him, before he does something drastic. Off you go."
"Oh! Of course. Yes." Still somewhat dazed, she walked over to Draco, making up an excuse to pull him away from the clearly sozzled coworker.
Sunday he was leaving on an extended trip to the branches in other parts of the world. She wouldn't see him for weeks. He looked at her and said something, which her brain hardly interpreted but her mouth formed a reply. Her heart was racing. Now. Now or never, it was saying. And so when he turned his intense gaze on her and asked if she wanted to leave, it was easy to say yes, to ignore the cliff's edge she was walking.
Neither of them saw Narcissa's self-satisfied contemplation as they left the bar. They only saw each other.
***
Falling
Ginny stirred, her breaths now even. Other senses were coming back to her now, and she could feel his zipper digging into her thigh. She welcomed the pain, because with it came his weight, the feel of his skin against hers and the joy that they'd finally crossed that invisible line.
Now, she wondered, would they step back across it again? If they moved from the sofa, straightened out their clothing, went their separate ways, would that be it? Was this an isolated moment in time, inevitable and right, but never repeatable? The weight of the unspoken words pushed at her, but she feared that in speaking them the moment would shatter.
He stirred, his hand coming to brush against her face, through her hair. Down and down it moved, causing her to shiver. He kissed her lightly, softly, and then shifted onto his side. She heard his zipper sliding closed, and then he was pulling her skirt back into place. His hand lingered on her thigh and he pulled her to her side, close enough that their noses brushed.
She knew then as she brought her lips to his and the universe narrowed to only him that none of her doubts mattered, because they were here, now.
She stretched, turning on her side to look at him. He looked peaceful in sleep. The little voice in the back of her head telling her that he would have to leave soon was getting stronger now that the sun was going down. She knew that one of them would have to bring it up sooner later.
His arm snaked out and pulled her against him. "You're thinking too loudly. Stop that."
She grinned. "I don't think I can. You might have to help me with that."
She gasped out a moan as he attacked her neck with his teeth and tongue, and knew that he would very shortly be successful.
Later that day as he prepared to walk out the door, she had to use a significant portion of willpower to force her hands to let go of his shirt.
After he'd gone, as she tried to remember all the things she normally did on a Sunday evening and was coming up blank, she realized that no matter what, there was no going back, not for her. She'd opened the door, taken the step over the edge, and she would have to live with consequences.
Vaguely she wondered what would happen the next time she saw him, but she forced the thought away.
***
Two weeks later, she was certain she was losing her mind, at least a little bit. She'd lie in bed and feel the ghost of his arms around her, or she'd be talking to co-workers and imagine exactly what he'd say, which wasn't always very nice but made her laugh.
She wanted him to come back so she would know one way or the other what she was supposed to do about her newfound obsession with him.
When she heard his voice-she'd recognize it anywhere-she wasn't prepared, and her heart began to race. Willing her self calm, she followed the sound to its source.
She saw him. He looked well. As his gaze shifted to her, her breath caught. Suddenly nothing else mattered.
Later he called her into his office and pushed her up against the wall and kissed her like the world was ending, and it was perfect.
***
Time had a way of sneaking up on a person and running right by, passing along without hardly being noticed. At least that's how Ginny felt as she flipped her calendar to the December page.
She was ridiculously content. That was the only way to describe it. Things with Draco, while admittedly clandestine, where actually going along quite well. He seemed to have an instinctive understanding of her like few had before. Most of all was the way he made her feel. Never before had something felt so right, and she knew deep down into her most secret places that she wanted him in the forever kind of way.
***
It was the last day before the week that Narcissa gave everyone off for the holidays, and Ginny was feeling particularly cheerful. She'd found gifts that were absolutely perfect for most of her family, but was still on the lookout for something that would please Draco. He was difficult to shop for because he never seem to want anything material. She was considering the merits of making a special meal or planning some sort of activity.
"Ginny, there you are!" she heard a voice saying from behind her, just as she passed Gringotts. Turning about, she saw that it was Harry, and with him Ron.
"Hey you two," she started, before she saw the grim looks on their faces. "Whatever is the matter?"
Ron's lips compressed into a thin line and he looked at Harry briefly before he spoke. "We need you to come with us. To the Ministry."
"What's happened?" she asked, fearful now for her family. It must be something terrible, if they'd taken the time to search her out in the middle of her long lunch.
"It'll be easier to explain it there," Ron replied, not meeting her eyes.
"Okay," she replied, trying not to panic.
The Atrium was bustling with activity, but the guard on duty just nodded to Harry and didn't even confiscate Ginny's wand. She was lead to a conference room, where another older wizard in Auror robes was scratching quickly on a parchment.
Her brother and Harry took their seats, and Ginny was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding. They were all seated facing her and it felt vaguely hostile.
"Hello Miss Weasley. I'm Auror MacIntyre. We'd like to ask you some questions about Pegasus International." The older man's voice was rough but stern.
"What?" Looking helplessly at Ron, Ginny nearly flinched when he looked away. "I don't understand."
"Pegasus International," Auror MacIntyre repeated. "A division of Phoenix Industries, the company that employs you."
"Yes," she responded, her mind racing. "Pegasus International is a recent acquisition. Why are you asking about it?"
Shuffling around the papers, he didn't answer right away. "Miss Weasley, it has recently come to our attention that there has been some trade in illegal potions supplies that is being filtered through Pegasus International."
"What?" she cried. "That's not possible."
"I'm afraid the evidence is quite concrete. We would appreciate your cooperation in our investigation."
She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as she looked at her brother. He'd set her up, brought her here. "I don't think there's anything I can tell you. I have no knowledge of any illegal transactions, and I seriously doubt that it ever occurred."
Auror MacIntyre set down his quill. Slowly he pushed a bit of parchment across the table to her. It was a purchase order with her signature at the bottom. "What is this supposed to prove? These items are all perfectly legal."
"Except that when the crates were searched at port they contained various Class A and B goods. The contents differed from the import documentation."
"That's... that's..." She wanted to say that it was impossible, but she knew that it wasn't. It would have had to have been an inside job; someone who knew the system and could have identified the weak points would have had to have been behind it. "You think someone in the company is trading in the black market?"
"I understand that with Phoenix Industries keeps a very close watch on the more recent acquisitions," the man continued, as though nothing out of the ordinary was occurring.
"Yes, that's true," she said, trying to fathom who would have committed these acts. Sometimes the takeovers created resentment, and she had not been very involved with this one. Any of the original employees they kept on could be the culprit. They could have been doing it for quite some time before the acquisition, even. "It's one of Narcissa Malfoy's primary directives. We try to make the process as smooth as possible."
"So someone from Phoenix Industries has been managing Pegasus International. Would it be accurate to say that it would be very difficult for illegal activities to be occurring under the watchful eye of a corporate manager?"
With a sudden burst of clarity Ginny knew exactly what this was all about. "It would be difficult, but not impossible, particularly if the culprit was practiced."
"Miss Weasley, who has been managing Pegasus International for Phoenix Industries?" Harry was looking at her enigmatically, and she wanted to scream. Draco was managing it, of course. She was certain they already knew that.
"I don't think I want to answer any more questions without my solicitor present." Her voice was much shakier than she'd thought. She avoided Ron's startled gaze.
"Miss Weasley, you do realise that you're only here as a courtesy, because of your brother. We have your signature on some of the documentation. It would be best if you would cooperate now."
Ron and Harry were silent after the senior Auror's declaration, and she felt a subtle rage come over her. They had to have been involved in this investigation for quite some time. It felt like a betrayal of the worst kind.
"Am I being officially detained?" she asked, voice quiet.
MacIntyre sighed. "No."
She stood. "Then I'll be leaving now. Good day."
Ron caught up to her as she was marching back to the Atrium. "Ginny, I want to explain. I swear I didn't know what they-"
He was silenced by her glare. Seeming to realise he'd be better off waiting for her to be calmer, he backed away.
The anger their confrontation had caused stuck with her all the way back to the office. As she set her bag down on her desk, she wondered what she should do. Should she tell Draco? Narcissa? Maybe they already knew. If she told them, what would Ron do?
Then she thought of Draco and a tight fear gripped her. She had to warn him.
After a thorough search, neither he nor Narcissa were anywhere to be found. Willing herself calm, she knew that they'd turn up eventually-they had to, as the company holiday party was that night.
She was sitting in her office in the late afternoon when Narcissa's personal assistant came to find her. To Ginny's surprise, both she and Draco were waiting in Narcissa's elegantly decorated office. Neither looked very festive, despite the holly and evergreen surrounding them.
"Please have a seat, Ginevra." Narcissa's voice was cool. Draco looked blank, which was more alarming than if he'd have looked upset.
There were a tense few seconds and Narcissa walked back around her desk and was seated.
"It has come to my attention that you spoke to the Ministry earlier today," Narcissa said finally.
Ginny looked between the two. It was clear they were unhappy, and she wished she knew exactly what they'd heard. "Yes, that's true."
"I also heard that it was in regards to this company," Narcissa added.
"Yes. They wanted to know about Pegasus and illegal potions supply trafficking." It was clear they knew at least part of the story, so they might as well know all of it, no matter the trouble it might cause for her with the Ministry. "It seems they have a rather large investigation already going."
"'It seems', does it?" Draco broke in. His venom startled her. She didn't respond. "It also seems that they're investigating me. I wonder how they learned that I was managing the Pegasus takeover."
"Draco, I&mdash"
"Draco, displays of temper are rather a waste of energy." Narcissa was far too cool, Ginny thought. "Ginevra, I have always liked you. I have thought of you as my protégé, someone that enjoyed this work as much as I do, and who might one day even fill my shoes. I was very disturbed to hear that you had been speaking to the Ministry on this issue. I would like to know exactly what they asked you and what you said."
Ginny's hands were clenched tightly, resting on her lap. "He asked about Pegasus and if I knew anything. I said I hadn't any idea. I told them that if they wanted to ask more questions then they'd have to speak with my solicitor."
Narcissa looked pensive, and Ginny was afraid of what that meant. Hadn't she just been saying that she trusted her?
"I must confess that I find myself a bit blindsided by all of this. I had never considered what it might mean for you to go to the Ministry."
Ginny was floored. "But I didn't say anything! My brother mislead me and took me there, and I didn't tell them anything!"
"Yes, but the fact remains that you have family who work for the Ministry, and who don't think particularly favourably upon my family. If it came down to it, I wonder where your loyalty would truly lie. You must admit it is a valid concern." The way Narcissa said it calmed some of Ginny's ire, though it hurt more than she would have liked to admit because it struck too close to home.
It was a valid concern, and bore some consideration.
"I am sorry, Ginevra, that these events have occurred. I will let you know my decision before the first of the year."
"Decision?" she asked weakly.
Narcissa paused. "On the status of your employment."
Afterwards, Ginny never could remember exactly how she made it back to her office, but one thing stuck out crystal clear as she sat in her apartment much later that night.
Draco had barely even looked at her.
***
It was very difficult to be joyous about the holiday season when she was forced to sit directly across from Ron and Harry and pretend that they hadn't just caused her life to fall to pieces. It was also with a sense of inevitability that the topic of the investigation came up.
"I hear you boys have something big going on down in your department," Arthur had said, and from the looks on Harry and Ron's faces Ginny, if not Arthur himself, knew exactly what it was.
"Yeah," Harry put in, after trading a meaningful look with Ron, who had, in a rather immature move, shoved a large forkful of potatoes in his mouth.
It was at this point that Ginny, seated at the end, pushed back her chair and moved upstairs, returning in time to hear Ron saying, "Some illegal stuff. Can't really talk about it."
"I did hear it was some really nasty stuff, that there was a murder involved. That there could be connections to some of these neo Death Eaters." Apparently the office rumours hadn't yet included the identity of the supposed criminals.
"No murders," Harry responded carefully. "But we plan to make an arrest tomorrow." Harry looked over to where Ginny had been sitting and appeared startled to find her standing next to him.
"Who?" she asked.
"Ginny-" Ron began.
"Who?" she repeated, icy calm. "You're going to arrest Draco, aren't you?"
The entire table went quiet. Neither Harry or Ron spoke, confirming her suspicions.
"You know," she said, "it's bad enough that you practically tricked me into that interrogation and might have got me sacked, but I do know a little about criminal investigation from listening to you lot of the years. It strikes me that you've gone about this a very backhanded way. You haven't even tried an official search of the company records. Why is that, I wonder?"
Neither responded.
"Is it because it's easier to just assume guilt? Because the Wizengamot would push for a conviction? It's certain the Malfoys still aren't well-looked on."
"Ginny, you of all people know that Lucius Malfoy was involved in some illegal and immoral business. I don't understand why you're always so eager to defend his wife and son!"
Ginny's gaze snapped to Harry's. "And I don't understand why you're always so eager to attack them! Draco is not Lucius, and Narcissa is one of the most upstanding people I know."
"Ginny, please, sit down. Let's have a peaceful dinner." Molly's attempts and calming the situation failed.
"Like father like son, Ginny. Have you forgotten what they did to you? It makes me absolutely mad to see how you let them into your life, how naive you are. Even now you're defending them without one shred of proof that they're innocent."
She wasn't sure how she managed to avoid slugging him. "There was a wise man who once told me to always look for the good in people." She slammed the folder she was carrying, full of evidence that she knew would effectively exonerate Draco, down onto his lap. "Happy Christmas, Harry. I was going to take this to your office once it reopened after the holidays, but it looks like you've saved me the trip."
Later, she would be very bitter indeed that none of them tried to stop her as she left.
***
It hadn't been until that second, right before she'd stood up from the table to retrieve her research, that she'd finally been able to listen to what her heart had been saying all along. She regretted not recognizing it sooner, as she regretted letting her temper get out of hand at the dinner and for walking out of Narcissa's office without a fight.
It didn't matter that her family probably wouldn't understand, and even though she hated herself for it she now knew what she would choose, if it came down to it.
It was frightening and she was nearly lightheaded as she stood on his stoop in the cold, trying to work up the nerve to knock. She'd thought she'd understood their relationship before, but she hadn't, not really. She didn't know what she would say. 'Hello, I've just had a huge row with my family and it made me realize how utterly and irretrievably in love with you I am, and if I'm not mistaken I think you love me madly too.'
Any second now she would lift up her hand to the door. It was such a normal, easy thing to do, but her body was frozen. Any second....
The door opened, and there he stood. There was a small flash of realization that it was just another incident in a string of his having anticipated her, but it was quickly covered over by the drowning sensation she felt as she looked at him. All the things she wanted to say pressed up against each other, crowding to get out and jamming.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he responded back.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic
The tone/mood of the fic: Bittersweet, yet hopeful
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: Ginny chooses Draco over her family
Preferred rating of the fic you want: Naughty (any degree)
Canon or AU? Slightly AU
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): An abusive Lucius and Narcissa
Author: lyndsiefenele
Rating: High/Extremely Naughty/R to NC-17
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None, other than the rating
Author's Notes: Many thanks to all my supportive, wonderful friends, and especially to the mods of the exchange for all your hard work.
I approached this as a series of vignettes, and so it skips large chunks of time, as well as appears a bit out of sequence.
Summary: A story of falling.
Vertigo
What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.
Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being
On the Edge
Her hands fisted in his hair as she pulled herself against him. In the instant before she slammed her lips to his, she experienced a sense of wonder at how the course of her life had directed her here, to this moment, with him. And then the thought flashed away, replaced by the taste of him, the feel of his stubble scraping against her skin, and, winding its way into her brain, his scent, twining with the overwhelming need to be close, to touch every part of him.
She moaned as his hands settled on her hips, and then lower, as he pulled her close against him. She felt the warmth of him seeping into her skin, and the hardness of him as she ground her hips against him. Something like madness seized her, and she brought her hands down, to his neck, running along his shoulders, down his chest. Down toward his waist they went, and then up again, pulling at the buttons on his shirt. Then she was nipping at the bared skin there as his fingers traced along the waistband of her skirt.
There were a few disorienting seconds of sensory deprivation as he stepped back and yanked her jumper over her head, and she felt weak when his warmth flooded her again as he pulled her back and his mouth found just the right spot on her neck. Her bra soon joined the jumper on the floor, and then she was falling, falling into the softness of the sofa cushions.
His mouth was making a slow, tingling trail from her neck, and when he teased her nipple with his tongue she arched her back and cried out. She felt the curve of his smile against her breast and laughed, a throaty sound that turned breathy as the hand that had been teasing her thigh moved higher and higher to push aside her knickers.
She cried out again at the feeling of fire that rocketed through her, burning through her nerve endings, leaving them sensitized. She arched against him again, and he yanked her knickers down her legs for better access.
She needed to touch all of him, feel all of him. Fumbling at his belt with nerveless fingers, she released it and was gratified by the way he twitched when she shoved her hand down his trousers. With a sound of frustration she pulled it out again after brushing her hand along his length, cursing that his tailored wardrobe was fitted too well for more. She managed the top button and then his mouth was on hers again as he rolled a nipple between two fingers, and then she was pushing down his clothing as he was pushing up her skirt, and then he was inside her, hot and hard and right.
They moved together for what seemed like forever and no time at all before his thrusts became more rapid and then, trembling, he stopped and she could feel him pulsing inside her.
She ran her hands down his back and through his hair as his breathing slowly evened, hot and harsh against her neck. After a few moments he raised his head. There was something indefinably beautiful about him in that moment, and as she reached up to touch his face, he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and languorous, making the world spin. When she could think, and not just feel, again, he was pulling out, slow and excruciating. She wanted to protest the emptiness, but then his fingers were there, and in an embarrassingly short amount of time she was clutching at him as her vision went black around the edges.
***
Moving Toward the Precipice
It had all started, innocently enough, with a cup of tea. After several years gallivanting on the continent, the prodigal son had returned, and his mother-wise woman that she was-had decided that he should learn the company business from the ground up. Which is why, on this sunny Monday morning, Ginny Weasley found Draco Malfoy sitting in her office, and worst off all-demanding that she get him tea!
"Get your own," she responded as she set her purse down on her desk rather more forcefully than necessary. "And this is my desk."
"Obviously," he replied with a sneer, eying the pictures of her various family members that lined one edge. "But I've decided I like the light here better, so you'll have to move over there." He pointed to the empty desk on the other side of the room.
A subtle rage tingled along her skin, coalescing in a frown. "Look here, Malfoy, I've sat at this desk for a year and a half, you can't just take it. It isn't done!"
He stood, and for a second she thought perhaps she'd won. "No, you listen, Weasley. My mother might have got the brilliant idea that I need to 'learn the business,'" he began, a nasty edge to the last words, "but one day I'll own this company. So if you think you're going to have any future here, you'd better remember that." He looked down at her, and she had the sudden urge to smash her fist into his face. "Now. Tea? Two sugars, please."
As she stormed down to the lounge and back to their now-shared office, she vowed that Draco Malfoy would never get the best of her.
"Your tea," she spat, nearing slamming it down in front him. In her short absence he'd moved all of her belongings into a scattered pile on the other desk. "Malfoy!" she shrieked. "You can't just- It's all mixed about! You've combined incoming expense reports with outgoing payment authorizations, and-" She jumped and turned at the atrocious noise from behind her.
"What the fuck did you do to my tea?" he nearly shouted, the sourest look she'd ever seen on his face. A smile stole across her lips.
"Whatever do you mean, Malfoy? It's just plain old tea, two sugars." As the look on his face did not improve, she mentally patted herself on the back. "Oh..." she added, trailing off, as if in thought. "Did I confuse the sugar and the salt again? Silly me. I'm always doing things like that. So sorry!"
She ignored the murderous look he gave her and turned back to the mess he'd made of her carefully-ordered paperwork.
***
"You're just cross she likes me better," she taunted several months later, as they walked back down the hall toward their office. When his pinched expression didn't change, she giggled. "Admit it. Your mum likes me better."
"Just because she said she liked your idea for a new refund procedure doesn't mean-"
"Your mum likes me better," she interrupted in a sing-song voice. It was a supremely triumphant moment. He hadn't even wanted to believe that she'd been taking tea with his mother for months before he returned, that they actually got on quite well. Then Narcissa had invited them both to tea in her office and had been resoundingly enthusiastic about an idea of Ginny's while brushing by Draco's.
Of course, he did have to ruin her triumph by being so decidedly pitiful about the whole affair. "Hey listen," she said, more soberly, "I think you've come up with a quite good plan for benefits, but you need to think on the seniority aspect a bit more."
He didn't say anything, but started packing up his briefcase. There was something so downcast about his posture that she wondered if she'd crossed some invisible line, and then wondered why she cared.
"You know," she tried again, willing to make peace, "we didn't really get anything much to eat in there, and I'm quite hungry. If you want, we could go down to that shop on the corner with those scones you like, grab a bite."
He studied her, inscrutable, and she knew he was going to refuse. What had possessed her to ask him to do something so personal with her? It wasn't like they were friends.
"Sure," he responded finally, and she felt the release of a tension she hadn't known. "Your treat?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned away to grab her bag. "Of course, Malfoy, since I'm the one with a massive inheritance and all."
She thought she saw the edge of a grin as she turned back.
They walked down to the corner cafe through the crisp fall air in a silence that was more companionable than anything, but Ginny found herself to be unsurprised. They did spend most of their days together in silence, each engrossed in their own work, until one stopped to ask a question of the other.
As she sat down across from him, it suddenly struck her that he'd been off all day. As they made small talk and ate their pastries, she saw the effort it took him to keep himself in the conversation, and the darkness behind his eyes.
A lull came, and she looked him over, feeling concerned. After a quick mental battle, she decided she'd rather speak out. "What's wrong?" she asked, painfully aware that the question could very well ruin the rapport they'd built.
Surprise flashed across his features momentarily, before it was replaced by a shock of something raw and open. He looked away, and she thought she'd for sure crossed the line this time. "It's.... Today's the anniversary of my father's death."
"Oh," she said, now surprised herself. She felt momentarily awkward. What condolences should she offer for a man she'd utterly despised? Looking over at the son, though, she knew that how she felt about a dead man had no relevance now. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He shrugged. "That's the idea. I don't even know why it should still bother me. It's been so long...."
She wondered what she could say or do. She'd never been particularly good at offering comfort. "He was your father. You're allowed to remember him, especially today." She wondered at Narcissa's behaviour. Surely she hadn't forgotten either; yet she had been awfully cold to her son when it was put in proper context.
Draco sighed. After a moment he seemed to gather himself together, and offered her the last of his scones. As she reached across the table, toward his plate, a part of her felt like she was carefully stepping across a chasm of infinite depth.
But he didn't yank the plate away at the last second or anything, so she dismissed the idea as silly as she smiled at him.
***
Several days later and Draco was still treating her with a politeness that bordered on rude, after the cordiality that had developed over their months of sharing an office. Ginny wondered what had gotten into him, or what she might do to salvage the situation. She'd have to work with him for what she hoped would be a long career with the company, so trying to fix the situation was a must. But he had been hard to pin down. Every time she tried to speak with him he seemed to have pressing business elsewhere.
Of course, she forgot about all that after she returned from Narcissa's office. Buoyant, she grinned at him as she returned to their shared space, unmindful of anything but her current excitement.
He didn't seem to quite catch her mood at first, but he did have something to say to her, finally. "Here," he said, dangling a pair of keys in front of her.
"What?" she asked, confused. They looked like the keys to the filing cabinet.
"For the desk drawers." She furrowed her brow, noticing for the first time that her things weren't quite where she had left them. "I thought you might like your old desk back. It was rather rude of me to take it like that."
"Oh bugger the desks!" she cried. "I've just been promoted, so I'll have my own office upstairs!"
He congratulated her, and at the back of her mind she wondered if the cold Draco was gone for good. It wasn't until he'd gone off somewhere or other that her mind finally caught up to everything that had just happened. She looked at her old but new desk, noticing the careful way he'd moved everything over just the way she'd had it. She ran her hand along the edge of a beautiful blotter that hadn't been before. Suddenly, she didn't quite so much feel like celebrating. She wondered what the gesture had cost him, and realized it was really quite kind-and she had completely brushed it aside.
***
"That's the problem with these big corporations," her dad was saying. "They're just in it for the bottom line. They don't feel responsible to their customers."
Ginny, startled out of her private thoughts, looked up, wondering at the change in conversation. They'd previously been discussing possible baby names for Bill and Fleur's next on the way.
"Right you are, Dad," George responded. "Been two months and Wallog's can't even fix an 'accounting error'." There was a clear note of derision in his voice. "And me, without all the capital all this time. It's not like it was their money in the first place since they owe me a refund."
"You should write them. I'm sure it could all be fixed up straightaway," Molly put in. "Maybe a reminder note or two would hurry things along."
George sighed. "I've tried that, Mum. All I got was a letter something like, 'Thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, due to the ongoing transfer of our financial documents, we are unable to access your records at the current time, but rest assured that we will be contacting you with resolution as soon as possible.' It was signed by Draco Malfoy, of all people, so I shouldn't wonder at the delay."
Ginny winced, recognizing the form letter she and Draco had designed after they'd been put in charge of the financial records for the buyout of the potions supply business. It had been a huge mess that was just now starting to get under control. They'd marvelled at Wallog's ability to make their steady profits when they'd not been able to find proper invoices for half of the customers.
"Actually, I doubt he ever saw your account at all, as it's I who've got most of that documentation under review." She liked to believe that they had a good enough working relationship now that Draco wouldn't be purposefully vindictive to one of her brothers. She did eat lunch with the man, after all. "You should have said something sooner. I could have cleared it up for you weeks ago."
"Oh, right," he replied, looking slightly chagrined. "I always forget you work for the Malfoys."
"I rather think I'm better off forgetting it," Ron chipped in, still harbouring some habitual resentment for Draco after all these years.
"Well, there you are, George! Ginny will fix it for you. Would anyone like some homemade chocolate ice cream?" Molly, correctly interpreting the look in Ginny's eyes, deftly changed the subject to something she knew the other members of the family couldn't fail to latch on to.
***
She should have knocked, but it had been one of those mornings. Everyone she needed to speak to about urgent matters was in pointless meetings, there were a couple of emergencies that had suddenly fallen into her lap, and to top it off, she'd spilled coffee down the front of her blouse and her cleaning charm had set more of the stain than it had got out.
"Draco, I've got some papers for you to sign," she began, trying to wiggle the documents out of the stack she carried without the rest sliding everywhere. "My brother's shop actually, there's a-" She'd finally looked up, to see that Draco was definitely not alone in his office. A girl from marketing-Sheila or Sharon or something-was seated on his desk with her skirt hiked up and Draco was looking over her shoulder in surprise and guilt. Ginny looked away. "Er- I'll come back."
She was certain she was burning bright red, and for some reason she couldn't get the image of Draco's hand on Shelley's thigh out of her mind. It wasn't like- Well, it was certainly inappropriate behaviour for the office.
"Weasley, wait!" she heard from behind her as she was halfway out the door. And she actually did. She barely registered Sidney slipping out the door as she turned to face the man in question. He stopped in front of her, opening his mouth and then closing it again. "Er... I'm sorry about that," he said finally.
"Oh, that?" She was definitely sure that she was at least a nice pink colour by now. "Yeah, it's.... Don't worry about it. I should have knocked."
He seemed to be studying her for a moment, and she felt a sudden surge of embarrassment. She shifted the stack of papers, trying to cover the stain on her blouse, and only succeeded in nearly toppling the lot of them. He reached out to grab at the pile, and as his hand brushed hers she suddenly wondered when the day had taken this surreal turn, and why she was so fascinated by the undone buttons on his shirt. She wondered if she might be going mad, that such a small thing could take up so much of her vision.
He was looking at her in a rather confused manner now, and she felt like a complete nutter. "I'll just... I'll just... go."
"Hey." He reached out and touched her sleeve, and his eyes met hers. There was a question there that she couldn't quite interpret. After a minute, she realized she was staring, but his expression didn't change. "The papers?" he asked finally, and she was left with the sensation that she'd just missed something important.
"Oh, right."
Walking back after straightening out the business with George's accounts, she wondered what on Earth had made everything so awkward, and what she could do to fix it.
***
He looked different today. She couldn't quite pick out why. Perhaps it was that she still felt awkward after the tart-in-the-office incident? Apparently they were ignoring it, because he'd stopped by her office for their usual Friday working lunch as though nothing had happened.
Narcissa had started it. One day during another long week during some takeover or another she'd declared they worked too much and that for their own health they'd better get out of the office. She'd told them to take a long lunch break, take work if they must, but to get out for a bit on her Sickle. So ever since then, though there had been a marked decline in actual productivity, they still went nearly every Friday to a nearby cafe.
"Have you had your hair trimmed?" she blurted out, sometime after their drinks order was placed.
"Not recently," he replied, looking at her quizzically. "Is it getting scruffy?"
"No, no. It's fine." She considered him for a moment. "I don't think I've seen you wear that shade of blue before. Maybe that's it."
"Maybe it's what?" Now he was definitely frowning, looking down at his shirt. "Is something wrong with this colour?"
"No." Now she was really wishing she'd kept her speculations to herself. "You just look different than usual."
"I see." He pondered that for a moment, and she could tell that he was still curious. "Good different or bad different?"
Definitely a good different. Too good, really. Rolling her eyes, she quickly put a lid on that direction of thought. "I don't think I've ever seen you look bad, Draco."
He laughed, and the smile in his eyes made her smile in response. "You know, flattery will get you everywhere, especially since we all know you're trying to sleep your way to the top."
It was a cheeky remark, but referenced an incident that at the time had been uncomfortable but had later turned humorous. A disgruntled former employee had been let go, and blustered about blaming just about everyone else for his incompetence, including insinuating that Ginny hadn't got to her position on merits alone. It was ridiculous, since Narcissa herself did most of the selecting for promotion, but apparently the man hadn't known that.
Of course, the attempt at humour fell a bit flat when images of him with his shirt unbuttoned filled her head. Luckily the waitress came then to take their order, so she was sure he didn't notice.
They chatted off and on about inconsequentials for the rest of the meal, and Ginny lingered a little on their way back to the office, enjoying the feeling of autumn in the air. They were just about back to their building when he stopped her, and the vague feeling of relief that had come over her vanished.
"Look, about the other day." His hands were in his pockets and she could see the tension across his shoulders.
"It's alright, really, you don't-"
"I just wanted you to know that-"
They'd both started talking at the same time. Not wanting to have this particular conversation in the first place, Ginny forged on. "Listen, it's no big deal. It's none of my business, and you don't need to explain anything to me."
He frowned. "I know I don't need to explain anything, but I want to." She considered this for a moment, and he must have seen her resignation reflected in her posture or expression, because he continued, "Briana and I were involved for a short time about a year ago. She'd just come to tell me she'd accepted a position with a firm in South America, and, well, what you saw just sort of happened. It wasn't- I don't normally do that sort of thing."
Well of course he didn't. She knew that; that's what had made it so surprising. "Perhaps you still have feelings for her," she heard herself saying, to her own astonishment.
"That's just it. I don't. It was more habit than anything else." He still held lines of tension, and she wondered why it was so important to him to make this point.
"Alright." She squeezed his arm briefly before adding, "I won't tell Narcissa. You needn't worry."
"Right," he said in a tone that sounded the opposite. "Yes. Thank you."
And she knew, with a frisson of cold knowledge, that it wasn't alright, that she'd somehow misread him once again. But if he hadn't been trying to ask her not to report him, then what had he been trying to get at?
***
"They've been talking about Ministry reform for years now." Arthur was sitting in his favourite chair by the fireplace after another of Molly's excellent meals. She always did tend to go a bit overboard during the holidays and Ginny always ate until she couldn't fit in one more bite.
"I think they're more serious about it now than they've ever been, particularly with some of the tax collection problems lately." Harry's eyes flicked over to Ginny ever-so-quickly, and she narrowly avoided rolling hers in return. It didn't surprise her that he had apparently been digging around in the Malfoys' business. He was still wildly overprotective of her despite their breakup and had never liked her working for Narcissa.
"I think reform's a great idea," she chimed in. "The only tax collection issues I've seen are where the Ministry loses all the paperwork you fill out on time." Harry's lips compressed ever so slightly, and she resisted a sigh. He persisted in thinking that she was having the wool pulled over her eyes. Although, she supposed it was better than the alternative-him thinking she was in on the conspiracy of the day.
"Now dears, let's have no more of the shop talk." Molly, as usual, sensed an argument from ten paces and stopped it in its tracks.
***
Something was different. She didn't want to believe it so. It was easier not to.
She was scared. If it wasn't in her head (it wasn't, it wasn't), then everything would change. What did it mean?
She could deny her feelings and her intuition as much as she liked, but the truth was that she knew exactly what all of it meant. What it really came down to was whether or not she was willing to take the next step. She was standing on the edge of an impossibly deep chasm. In stepping forward she could fall; fall, fall on down into the dark, if he didn't catch her.
She knocked on his office door and he looked up. He smiled and she returned it. She hoped it wasn't too bright. She was terrified he would read her emotions on her face, so she tried to hold back. She wondered if he would notice her opposite reaction and wonder if something was wrong because of her reticence. It was too difficult. How was one supposed to act exactly the same when everything was different?
The bright spring sunshine was flooding his office with a yellow light that flamed his hair, and she wondered that nature itself wasn't trying to tell her something. He looked so good, and she wanted to move forward, to touch him.
She stepped forward and handed him the folders she'd been carrying. His eyes lingered, and once again she had the feeling he was going to say something, but he didn't speak.
***
She should have been drinking more. Maybe it would have helped to numb her against the helplessness that was swamping her as she watched him laugh and joke with their co-workers, who'd thrown this impromptu celebration for him.
Except that in her current mood more alcohol would have only made her maudlin and she didn't want to make a spectacle, or reveal that which she'd spent futile months suppressing.
None of it mattered anymore, as he was leaving. For all these years they had always been promoted within weeks of each other, always equal. Yet now Narcissa had finally given him a promotion that put him above her, with no other openings. It wasn't so much that which was causing her current state of upset as it was that now he'd have to travel, quite a bit. Their lunches would end, their daily banter would be gone, and she didn't know why it should matter. After months of ruthlessly shoving away her infatuation and convincing herself that he didn't care for her, it shouldn't matter that he was going away. It should be a good thing, really. Only she knew she'd miss him terribly.
A flash of blond out of the corner of her eye made her turn, but to her surprise it was Narcissa who took a seat next to her.
"Good evening, Ginevra." There was always something about the older woman that put her slightly on edge. Something about the way she always seemed to be assessing her.
"Good evening to you, Narcissa. Are you enjoying yourself?" Ginny's attempt to perk herself up sounded flat to her ears.
Narcissa laughed, a refined, incongruous sound to their surroundings. "Much more than my son, I daresay. Everyone seems to be a bit intimidated by my presence." She turned her piercing eyes on the girl next to her. "Except for you, of course."
Ginny attempted a smile. "I've always been grateful for the particular interest you've taken in me." She wasn't sure what else she could say that wouldn't make her sound like a complete brown noser.
"Well, my dear, I knew from the moment I hired you that you could go far. Hard working, smart, and no pushover." Narcissa sipped her wine delicately. "Not to mention you weren't likely to be intimidated by my son."
Ginny frowned. "I suppose after all of the trouble at Hogwarts it would be difficult for me to think him intimidating any longer."
Narcissa's look was sharp but sympathetic. "You know that I don't like discussing the past. But you should know that it's why I've always tried to put you two near each other. After he first returned I quickly realised that you were one of the only people who could keep him in line, stop him from becoming too... well. I thought that you were a good influence."
Ginny was stunned. She hadn't realised how purposeful and calculating Narcissa's actions had been.
Seeing the look on the younger woman's face, Narcissa put in quickly, "I should make it clear that I would never have promoted you as I have if I didn't truly believe you deserved it. It just so happens that there was a fringe benefit to be found." Narcissa set down her glass and patted Ginny's hand. "The truth be told, I had hoped-" Leaning in, she lowered her voice. "It is my hope that one day you and Draco will be heading up the company, when I retire."
"I-" Ginny didn't know what to say. "Thank you. I'll try to prove myself worthy of your trust."
Narcissa's smile was enigmatic. "You already have." Looking back over to where her son was talking to one of the sales managers, his expression increasingly frustrated, she said, "Now. I think it's time someone rescue him, before he does something drastic. Off you go."
"Oh! Of course. Yes." Still somewhat dazed, she walked over to Draco, making up an excuse to pull him away from the clearly sozzled coworker.
Sunday he was leaving on an extended trip to the branches in other parts of the world. She wouldn't see him for weeks. He looked at her and said something, which her brain hardly interpreted but her mouth formed a reply. Her heart was racing. Now. Now or never, it was saying. And so when he turned his intense gaze on her and asked if she wanted to leave, it was easy to say yes, to ignore the cliff's edge she was walking.
Neither of them saw Narcissa's self-satisfied contemplation as they left the bar. They only saw each other.
***
Falling
Ginny stirred, her breaths now even. Other senses were coming back to her now, and she could feel his zipper digging into her thigh. She welcomed the pain, because with it came his weight, the feel of his skin against hers and the joy that they'd finally crossed that invisible line.
Now, she wondered, would they step back across it again? If they moved from the sofa, straightened out their clothing, went their separate ways, would that be it? Was this an isolated moment in time, inevitable and right, but never repeatable? The weight of the unspoken words pushed at her, but she feared that in speaking them the moment would shatter.
He stirred, his hand coming to brush against her face, through her hair. Down and down it moved, causing her to shiver. He kissed her lightly, softly, and then shifted onto his side. She heard his zipper sliding closed, and then he was pulling her skirt back into place. His hand lingered on her thigh and he pulled her to her side, close enough that their noses brushed.
She knew then as she brought her lips to his and the universe narrowed to only him that none of her doubts mattered, because they were here, now.
She stretched, turning on her side to look at him. He looked peaceful in sleep. The little voice in the back of her head telling her that he would have to leave soon was getting stronger now that the sun was going down. She knew that one of them would have to bring it up sooner later.
His arm snaked out and pulled her against him. "You're thinking too loudly. Stop that."
She grinned. "I don't think I can. You might have to help me with that."
She gasped out a moan as he attacked her neck with his teeth and tongue, and knew that he would very shortly be successful.
Later that day as he prepared to walk out the door, she had to use a significant portion of willpower to force her hands to let go of his shirt.
After he'd gone, as she tried to remember all the things she normally did on a Sunday evening and was coming up blank, she realized that no matter what, there was no going back, not for her. She'd opened the door, taken the step over the edge, and she would have to live with consequences.
Vaguely she wondered what would happen the next time she saw him, but she forced the thought away.
***
Two weeks later, she was certain she was losing her mind, at least a little bit. She'd lie in bed and feel the ghost of his arms around her, or she'd be talking to co-workers and imagine exactly what he'd say, which wasn't always very nice but made her laugh.
She wanted him to come back so she would know one way or the other what she was supposed to do about her newfound obsession with him.
When she heard his voice-she'd recognize it anywhere-she wasn't prepared, and her heart began to race. Willing her self calm, she followed the sound to its source.
She saw him. He looked well. As his gaze shifted to her, her breath caught. Suddenly nothing else mattered.
Later he called her into his office and pushed her up against the wall and kissed her like the world was ending, and it was perfect.
***
Time had a way of sneaking up on a person and running right by, passing along without hardly being noticed. At least that's how Ginny felt as she flipped her calendar to the December page.
She was ridiculously content. That was the only way to describe it. Things with Draco, while admittedly clandestine, where actually going along quite well. He seemed to have an instinctive understanding of her like few had before. Most of all was the way he made her feel. Never before had something felt so right, and she knew deep down into her most secret places that she wanted him in the forever kind of way.
***
It was the last day before the week that Narcissa gave everyone off for the holidays, and Ginny was feeling particularly cheerful. She'd found gifts that were absolutely perfect for most of her family, but was still on the lookout for something that would please Draco. He was difficult to shop for because he never seem to want anything material. She was considering the merits of making a special meal or planning some sort of activity.
"Ginny, there you are!" she heard a voice saying from behind her, just as she passed Gringotts. Turning about, she saw that it was Harry, and with him Ron.
"Hey you two," she started, before she saw the grim looks on their faces. "Whatever is the matter?"
Ron's lips compressed into a thin line and he looked at Harry briefly before he spoke. "We need you to come with us. To the Ministry."
"What's happened?" she asked, fearful now for her family. It must be something terrible, if they'd taken the time to search her out in the middle of her long lunch.
"It'll be easier to explain it there," Ron replied, not meeting her eyes.
"Okay," she replied, trying not to panic.
The Atrium was bustling with activity, but the guard on duty just nodded to Harry and didn't even confiscate Ginny's wand. She was lead to a conference room, where another older wizard in Auror robes was scratching quickly on a parchment.
Her brother and Harry took their seats, and Ginny was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding. They were all seated facing her and it felt vaguely hostile.
"Hello Miss Weasley. I'm Auror MacIntyre. We'd like to ask you some questions about Pegasus International." The older man's voice was rough but stern.
"What?" Looking helplessly at Ron, Ginny nearly flinched when he looked away. "I don't understand."
"Pegasus International," Auror MacIntyre repeated. "A division of Phoenix Industries, the company that employs you."
"Yes," she responded, her mind racing. "Pegasus International is a recent acquisition. Why are you asking about it?"
Shuffling around the papers, he didn't answer right away. "Miss Weasley, it has recently come to our attention that there has been some trade in illegal potions supplies that is being filtered through Pegasus International."
"What?" she cried. "That's not possible."
"I'm afraid the evidence is quite concrete. We would appreciate your cooperation in our investigation."
She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as she looked at her brother. He'd set her up, brought her here. "I don't think there's anything I can tell you. I have no knowledge of any illegal transactions, and I seriously doubt that it ever occurred."
Auror MacIntyre set down his quill. Slowly he pushed a bit of parchment across the table to her. It was a purchase order with her signature at the bottom. "What is this supposed to prove? These items are all perfectly legal."
"Except that when the crates were searched at port they contained various Class A and B goods. The contents differed from the import documentation."
"That's... that's..." She wanted to say that it was impossible, but she knew that it wasn't. It would have had to have been an inside job; someone who knew the system and could have identified the weak points would have had to have been behind it. "You think someone in the company is trading in the black market?"
"I understand that with Phoenix Industries keeps a very close watch on the more recent acquisitions," the man continued, as though nothing out of the ordinary was occurring.
"Yes, that's true," she said, trying to fathom who would have committed these acts. Sometimes the takeovers created resentment, and she had not been very involved with this one. Any of the original employees they kept on could be the culprit. They could have been doing it for quite some time before the acquisition, even. "It's one of Narcissa Malfoy's primary directives. We try to make the process as smooth as possible."
"So someone from Phoenix Industries has been managing Pegasus International. Would it be accurate to say that it would be very difficult for illegal activities to be occurring under the watchful eye of a corporate manager?"
With a sudden burst of clarity Ginny knew exactly what this was all about. "It would be difficult, but not impossible, particularly if the culprit was practiced."
"Miss Weasley, who has been managing Pegasus International for Phoenix Industries?" Harry was looking at her enigmatically, and she wanted to scream. Draco was managing it, of course. She was certain they already knew that.
"I don't think I want to answer any more questions without my solicitor present." Her voice was much shakier than she'd thought. She avoided Ron's startled gaze.
"Miss Weasley, you do realise that you're only here as a courtesy, because of your brother. We have your signature on some of the documentation. It would be best if you would cooperate now."
Ron and Harry were silent after the senior Auror's declaration, and she felt a subtle rage come over her. They had to have been involved in this investigation for quite some time. It felt like a betrayal of the worst kind.
"Am I being officially detained?" she asked, voice quiet.
MacIntyre sighed. "No."
She stood. "Then I'll be leaving now. Good day."
Ron caught up to her as she was marching back to the Atrium. "Ginny, I want to explain. I swear I didn't know what they-"
He was silenced by her glare. Seeming to realise he'd be better off waiting for her to be calmer, he backed away.
The anger their confrontation had caused stuck with her all the way back to the office. As she set her bag down on her desk, she wondered what she should do. Should she tell Draco? Narcissa? Maybe they already knew. If she told them, what would Ron do?
Then she thought of Draco and a tight fear gripped her. She had to warn him.
After a thorough search, neither he nor Narcissa were anywhere to be found. Willing herself calm, she knew that they'd turn up eventually-they had to, as the company holiday party was that night.
She was sitting in her office in the late afternoon when Narcissa's personal assistant came to find her. To Ginny's surprise, both she and Draco were waiting in Narcissa's elegantly decorated office. Neither looked very festive, despite the holly and evergreen surrounding them.
"Please have a seat, Ginevra." Narcissa's voice was cool. Draco looked blank, which was more alarming than if he'd have looked upset.
There were a tense few seconds and Narcissa walked back around her desk and was seated.
"It has come to my attention that you spoke to the Ministry earlier today," Narcissa said finally.
Ginny looked between the two. It was clear they were unhappy, and she wished she knew exactly what they'd heard. "Yes, that's true."
"I also heard that it was in regards to this company," Narcissa added.
"Yes. They wanted to know about Pegasus and illegal potions supply trafficking." It was clear they knew at least part of the story, so they might as well know all of it, no matter the trouble it might cause for her with the Ministry. "It seems they have a rather large investigation already going."
"'It seems', does it?" Draco broke in. His venom startled her. She didn't respond. "It also seems that they're investigating me. I wonder how they learned that I was managing the Pegasus takeover."
"Draco, I&mdash"
"Draco, displays of temper are rather a waste of energy." Narcissa was far too cool, Ginny thought. "Ginevra, I have always liked you. I have thought of you as my protégé, someone that enjoyed this work as much as I do, and who might one day even fill my shoes. I was very disturbed to hear that you had been speaking to the Ministry on this issue. I would like to know exactly what they asked you and what you said."
Ginny's hands were clenched tightly, resting on her lap. "He asked about Pegasus and if I knew anything. I said I hadn't any idea. I told them that if they wanted to ask more questions then they'd have to speak with my solicitor."
Narcissa looked pensive, and Ginny was afraid of what that meant. Hadn't she just been saying that she trusted her?
"I must confess that I find myself a bit blindsided by all of this. I had never considered what it might mean for you to go to the Ministry."
Ginny was floored. "But I didn't say anything! My brother mislead me and took me there, and I didn't tell them anything!"
"Yes, but the fact remains that you have family who work for the Ministry, and who don't think particularly favourably upon my family. If it came down to it, I wonder where your loyalty would truly lie. You must admit it is a valid concern." The way Narcissa said it calmed some of Ginny's ire, though it hurt more than she would have liked to admit because it struck too close to home.
It was a valid concern, and bore some consideration.
"I am sorry, Ginevra, that these events have occurred. I will let you know my decision before the first of the year."
"Decision?" she asked weakly.
Narcissa paused. "On the status of your employment."
Afterwards, Ginny never could remember exactly how she made it back to her office, but one thing stuck out crystal clear as she sat in her apartment much later that night.
Draco had barely even looked at her.
***
It was very difficult to be joyous about the holiday season when she was forced to sit directly across from Ron and Harry and pretend that they hadn't just caused her life to fall to pieces. It was also with a sense of inevitability that the topic of the investigation came up.
"I hear you boys have something big going on down in your department," Arthur had said, and from the looks on Harry and Ron's faces Ginny, if not Arthur himself, knew exactly what it was.
"Yeah," Harry put in, after trading a meaningful look with Ron, who had, in a rather immature move, shoved a large forkful of potatoes in his mouth.
It was at this point that Ginny, seated at the end, pushed back her chair and moved upstairs, returning in time to hear Ron saying, "Some illegal stuff. Can't really talk about it."
"I did hear it was some really nasty stuff, that there was a murder involved. That there could be connections to some of these neo Death Eaters." Apparently the office rumours hadn't yet included the identity of the supposed criminals.
"No murders," Harry responded carefully. "But we plan to make an arrest tomorrow." Harry looked over to where Ginny had been sitting and appeared startled to find her standing next to him.
"Who?" she asked.
"Ginny-" Ron began.
"Who?" she repeated, icy calm. "You're going to arrest Draco, aren't you?"
The entire table went quiet. Neither Harry or Ron spoke, confirming her suspicions.
"You know," she said, "it's bad enough that you practically tricked me into that interrogation and might have got me sacked, but I do know a little about criminal investigation from listening to you lot of the years. It strikes me that you've gone about this a very backhanded way. You haven't even tried an official search of the company records. Why is that, I wonder?"
Neither responded.
"Is it because it's easier to just assume guilt? Because the Wizengamot would push for a conviction? It's certain the Malfoys still aren't well-looked on."
"Ginny, you of all people know that Lucius Malfoy was involved in some illegal and immoral business. I don't understand why you're always so eager to defend his wife and son!"
Ginny's gaze snapped to Harry's. "And I don't understand why you're always so eager to attack them! Draco is not Lucius, and Narcissa is one of the most upstanding people I know."
"Ginny, please, sit down. Let's have a peaceful dinner." Molly's attempts and calming the situation failed.
"Like father like son, Ginny. Have you forgotten what they did to you? It makes me absolutely mad to see how you let them into your life, how naive you are. Even now you're defending them without one shred of proof that they're innocent."
She wasn't sure how she managed to avoid slugging him. "There was a wise man who once told me to always look for the good in people." She slammed the folder she was carrying, full of evidence that she knew would effectively exonerate Draco, down onto his lap. "Happy Christmas, Harry. I was going to take this to your office once it reopened after the holidays, but it looks like you've saved me the trip."
Later, she would be very bitter indeed that none of them tried to stop her as she left.
***
It hadn't been until that second, right before she'd stood up from the table to retrieve her research, that she'd finally been able to listen to what her heart had been saying all along. She regretted not recognizing it sooner, as she regretted letting her temper get out of hand at the dinner and for walking out of Narcissa's office without a fight.
It didn't matter that her family probably wouldn't understand, and even though she hated herself for it she now knew what she would choose, if it came down to it.
It was frightening and she was nearly lightheaded as she stood on his stoop in the cold, trying to work up the nerve to knock. She'd thought she'd understood their relationship before, but she hadn't, not really. She didn't know what she would say. 'Hello, I've just had a huge row with my family and it made me realize how utterly and irretrievably in love with you I am, and if I'm not mistaken I think you love me madly too.'
Any second now she would lift up her hand to the door. It was such a normal, easy thing to do, but her body was frozen. Any second....
The door opened, and there he stood. There was a small flash of realization that it was just another incident in a string of his having anticipated her, but it was quickly covered over by the drowning sensation she felt as she looked at him. All the things she wanted to say pressed up against each other, crowding to get out and jamming.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he responded back.
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic
The tone/mood of the fic: Bittersweet, yet hopeful
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: Ginny chooses Draco over her family
Preferred rating of the fic you want: Naughty (any degree)
Canon or AU? Slightly AU
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): An abusive Lucius and Narcissa