The Final Revenge

Chapter 3 - Moth to a Flame

"That, Ben, is what we call a prat," Ginny said as she carried him to his room. Ben just looked up at her and put his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby. I know it's been a long day, and then that scary man came by. How do you feel about a bath?" Ginny asked, although she really didn't expect a reply.

She grabbed a pair of Ben's pajamas and carried him into the bathroom connecting the two rooms. She turned on the faucet and poured in some baby bath. Ben was half asleep, but she knew that she wouldn't have time to give him a bath in the morning. They were always running late. Tomorrow was Halloween, so the store would be closed, but she had errands to run, and she and Ben were going to have lunch with Harry that afternoon. Ben really wasn't particularly fond of Harry, but Ginny insisted that he just needed time.

Harry was one of her closest friends and she couldn't bear to think that Ben just didn't like him. Harry was the first one to support her when she decided to adopt Ben, and had been the influence she needed to convince the adoption people that she could handle a screaming baby on her own at only eighteen.

Most of wizarding Britain believed that she and Harry would get married one day, but the two just laughed it off. They were good friends, nothing more. It just appeared that they were a couple because neither really dated and they were often seen together.

Despite Ben's intense dislike of Harry, Harry really loved the screaming toddler. Whenever Harry would get back from an assignment, he would always bring a gift for the child. Ben just wasn't the type of child who could be bribed for affection.

Ginny stopped and realized that the child had fallen asleep in her arms while she bathed him. 'He's clean enough,' she thought as she lifted him from the cooling water and wrapped him in his favorite fluffy yellow towel.

'He really does look like an angel when he's asleep,' she thought as she dressed him in his plain blue sleeper and tucked him in his bed.

Ginny had just bought him his first 'big boy bed' last week and he loved it. He really was getting much too big for the crib and she sent it to Ron and Hermione for Cara. She tucked him in and placed the plush quaffle in his tiny arms. She had bought him the toy while he was still in the orphanage and he never slept without it. Sometimes, she would wake to him screaming in the middle of the night only to find the quaffle lying on the floor near the crib and his little arm straining to reach it through the bars.

"Good night my angel," she said as she kissed his forehead and turned out the light. She stood in the doorway for a few minutes watching him sleep. She sighed as she turned to go into the bathroom to take her own bath. She once again turned on the faucet, but this time poured in some rose scented bath oil. She lit a candle sitting on the counter and let her robes pool to her feet. She always lit that candle, even if she was only going to take a quick shower. It had been a gift from Hermione last Christmas and it was enchanted to never burn out. It too, smelled of roses. She stepped into the tub and sunk into the rising warm water as she let out a sigh of relief. This was exactly what she needed after the hectic day she had.

At least Ben was too tired to put up much of a fight when she put him to bed. It was usually a knockdown drag-out just to put his pajamas on.

She felt all of the tension leave her body as she inhaled the subtle beauty of the rose scented air. She released one last sigh and the events of the day came screaming back to her.

Draco Malfoy asked her on a date.

Seriously, who was he kidding? There had to be something he wasn't telling her. He would never ask a Weasley out. Maybe he was drunk. That was it. He had to be under the influence of something, but... aside from the words coming from his mouth and the distinct lack of sneering, he looked perfectly normal. Well, as normal as Draco Malfoy could look.

Ginny wasn't blind. The man was attractive; there was no denying that. Not even his abysmal personality could mask his striking features. His gorgeous moon-kissed hair was much shorter than it had been in school. It no longer looked like he used more hair care products than a French poodle. It wasn't messy by any means, just more neat and trim. The look really suited him. His aristocratic features that had once been considered sharp and too pronounced for a child, now complimented him immensely. He also dressed to kill. He wore black slacks that hung loosely from his hips. They looked like they were made for him. In fact, they probably were. He was also wearing a silver-gray sweater that, while not tight, emphasized his toned upper body. The sweater seemed to match his eyes exactly. Oh, and his eyes... They were the type of eyes that you could drown in. You could actually feel yourself being sucked into them. It reminded Ginny of a moth flying to a flame. His eyes were his bait for anyone who would be unfortunate to be lost in them for too long.

"Oh, what am I thinking?" Ginny asked as she started to pull herself from the tub and her fantasy.

"Draco Malfoy is the spawn of Satan, quite literally, as far as I'm concerned. What does he want from me anyway? I was doing perfectly fine pretending he didn't exist. Maybe this has something to do with his father dying, but that doesn't make any sense. He must just be trying to rattle me. That's the only answer. Well, I wont let him get to me," she ranted as she hastily threw on her floor-length green silk night dress and brushed the knots from her red curls.

She gave herself one last glance in the mirror as she opened the door to her room and strode purposefully to her bed. She ripped back the sheets and slipped into the blue silk, determined not to dream about piercing gray eyes.