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How Could This Happen?	By : Wolvertique Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-How Could This Happen?
- 2-A Date?!
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Ginny relaxed with a glass of white wine and watched the other customers of Chez Oui. It was a cozy, intimate place that she went to on rare occasions, when she wanted to feel rich. It put a hole in her bank account for several months, but oh, it was worth it! The restaurant was dim, the tables were spaced far apart, the waiters were formal to a fault, and the maitre d� always remembered her name.

The couple at the next table were being served their meal. It looked and smelled wonderful. She puzzled over what they�d ordered before turning to the menu to make her dinner selection.

A polite cough took her attention away from the coq au vin. She�d almost decided to get it despite the price, but her mind flew away as she saw a smugly smiling Draco Malfoy behind the tuxedoed waiter. "Your party, Miss Weasley," the waiter intoned, as she felt her jaw drop in surprise.

"Thank you," Draco purred to the waiter, who departed, and he took the seat opposite hers. "Darling," he grinned, a hint of anger bleeding through his tone, "I thought we were meeting elsewhere at seven?"

"You followed me?" She�d still believed he might be joking when she left her flat. That must have been why her eyes could not leave his face.

His tense facial muscles relaxed. "Oh, I�d follow you anywhere. I said I would. Remember?" He ended his parody of romance, pulling his chair around the circular table so that his right leg was only a few inches from her left as his voice and face became stern. "And you still need to be taught a lesson."

Oh, boy. She had put down the glass at his approach and now tried to edge her chair away from his. He smiled and took her wrist in his hand, holding it in place on the table, not painfully, but firmly. "I don�t think this is the time or place," she whispered.

He took her hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. She sat, mesmerized by the feel and look of his lips against her hand, the soft brush of his hair against her wrist, and he released her hand with a pat. "No, the time and place was at seven, in your home. But you changed the rules."

"Let�s change them again," she said hastily.

He studied the wine list, then looked directly at her, all teasing gone. "Oh, I don�t know if I should let you." Pause. Stillness. "What do I get if I do?" His right hand dropped to his right thigh, the one so close to hers that she could almost feel the heat rising from him.

She shook her head, staring down at her plate. "What do you want?"

Before he could say it, she interrupted him. She hadn�t survived in a home with six older brothers without learning a few things, after all. "To keep you from doing something here. What do you want?"

"Ah." He relaxed against his chair, his left hand on the menu, his right still loose on his leg, moving back and forth a little. She watched him stroke his muscular thigh, then cursed herself for watching and forced her eyes up to his face. "I believe I will have the onion soup, the garlic snails, and the coq au vin."

Looking up herself, she saw the impassive waiter note down Draco�s choices, and sighed. She would at least make a token protest by not ordering the same things as he. "The boeuf au poivre and tiramisu, please."

The waiter turned and left as silently as he�d come, and she glared at Draco, who blinked innocently, then gave a lazy smile. "Now. What I want." He leaned over her and whispered into her ear again. "We�re on a date."

"What?" She turned to look at him, just a breath away.

He grinned. "Act like we�re on a date."

"And that�s it?"

He nodded. "You�d probably kiss me right now if we were dating."

She suddenly remembered this night was NOT about doing whatever Mr. Ruddy Draco Malfoy wanted. "Well, we�re not. And I�m not going to." She felt righteous and self-assured for the five seconds after she�d said that and before Draco plunged his fingers between her legs.

She couldn�t contain a squeak of surprise and squeezed his hand tight, closing her legs, as he rubbed the black silk of her panties against her sensitive genitals. "Draco!" She couldn�t get more than that out, amazed at how very good his hand felt, wanting more but wanting him to stop.

"That is my name, GinEVRA," he said, staring into her eyes as he pressed his long, strong fingers against her aching body.

"All right, all right," she gasped, parting her thighs minutely and taking his hand from between them, gripping it firmly in hers as she placed them on the table. "We�re on a date. Bastard."

He sat back, letting her hold his hand. "I�m still waiting for my kiss. Beloved."

Damn him and his eyes, glinting with mischief! She flung herself at him, shattering the smirk on his face, and gave him a quick, deep, bite of a kiss before sitting down and arranging her skirt. Why was this dress so short?

He considered her for a brief moment, then stood and pulled her up with him. "I think we should go on to the show now. Darling." He bent his head to hers and she permitted it, almost welcomed it, wondering what he would feel like.

He was � gentler than she expected. Oh, he did not let her turn away and end the kiss, holding her head firmly between his strong hands, but he teased her lips open and only flicked his tongue against them. He didn�t shove or hurt her. His fingers did not pinch when he moved his right hand down from her chin and trailed it gently over her left breast, and she quivered at the sensation. It had been so long, and Draco was so warm.

A polite cough interrupted them, and Draco politely moved back from her and smiled at the waiter. "Sorry, Damien, but I�m afraid we�ll have to go on to the opera. Suddenly, it seems my love has lost her appetite."

The waiter gave a polite nod. "Understood. Should I make you another reservation?"

He bowed and tugged on her hand. Unbalanced after that kiss, disoriented by the throbbing between her thighs, Ginny nearly fell against him as Draco told the waiter calmly, "Yes. My fiancée and I will return next week, same time."

She let him steady her, escort her out, and put her into the elegant Malfoy carriage without protest. After all, he was behaving for now. If she acted up, he�d only get worse.

Of anyone, Ginny was well aware of how much worse Draco Malfoy could be.

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It was something to find her at such an elegant place. I wasn�t sure that Weasleys even knew such places existed. She almost looked like she belonged, with the glow of warm gold against her skin, the pale white of her skin shining against the black of her dress. I was almost � well, I was pleased I�d found her in such a suitable place.

Well, of course I wasn�t going to do anything to her at the restaurant! I�m a good customer and I wanted to be able to return! Their chef refused to leave with all the incentives I offered, and given what the man can do with a little sauvignon blanc and prime veal, I wouldn�t dare offend him and risk having him refuse to serve me.

Besides, I liked the idea of telling them she was mine. She was, after all. She�d agreed.

Stake my claim? What in Blessed Bethelda�s name are you talking about, man?

Oh, never mind. Your damned long explanations are just going to have to wait.

I liked how her eyes blazed when I told the waiter that we were engaged. It was worth the deception. In fact, I almost regretted �

I almost regretted having to leave! I was hungry.

Yes, that was all I was going to say.

Don�t look at me like that. I know what I�m doing. I got her out of there so that we could be alone in a far better place for a seduction. And that�s all. With that short dress of hers, her breasts barely covered, those long legs just inviting � trouble, her lips curved into a luscious smile, she should have thanked me. Without me, she�d have been attacked by rutting Muggles within two seconds of leaving.

Oh, fine. Laugh all you want. I�ll just stop talking.

Why I bother, sometimes, I wonder.
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How Could This Happen?