Sweet Bondage

Chapter 6: Discoveries

"Gin, I'm missing one shoe. Could you help me find it, please?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as she stepped into a pair of black high heels. It was always the same with Colin whenever they had to go out, she always ended up helping him locate either an item of clothing or an accessory. Why he couldn't seem to remember that he was a full-grown and trained wizard with a wand was beyond her understanding.

Picking up her purse and wand, she took one final sideways look at her reflection and nodded in satisfaction before stepping out of her room to help out her hapless friend. She found him in his room, arse sticking up in the air, head lost under his unmade bed as he groped around under it for the errant shoe.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Ginny stuck her wand out. "Accio Colin's missing shoe!" She caught three flying objects adeptly as it shot out of the mess that was his closet, dropping her purse in the process. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Colin to emerge. She smiled ruefully when she heard a muffled curse issue from under the bed, followed by a disgruntled looking Colin.

"Damn stupid bed," he mumbled, gingerly rubbing his abused head, looking balefully at the offending furniture. "Curse whoever thought of making bed frames so hard."

Ginny gaped at him. That was by far the silliest comment she had ever heard come from anybody's mouth.

"By any chance, did your mum drop you on your head one too many times when you were a baby, Colin? Coz you're nuts! You seriously need your head examined." She looked at his once pristine black suit which was now wrinkled and dusty and shook her head in disgust. She did a quick cleaning charm, once again marveling at the amount of mess he could get into with so very little effort.

"Thanks!" He beamed at her once he was clean again and chose the correct shoe from the choices Ginny held and proceeded to put it on.

"Honestly Colin! How many times do I have to tell you to clean your room? Even a snake would be terrified to venture into this uncharted terrain you call a bedroom. And look at your closet!" She walked over and threw open the doors of the appliance. "No wonder you couldn't find anything in here! I myself would have a hard time looking for Hogsmeade with all the mess you've collected here. Look!" She held up a moldy looking plastic with questionable contents. "What did you intend on doing with this? Culture a new strain of fungus?"

Colin smiled sheepishly at her. "That was actually my lunch. A week ago." He stifled a laugh when Ginny dropped the bag with a horrified 'ewww!'. "I just haven't had the time to start cleaning. I'll get on it once my load lightens a bit, I promise."

Ginny knew she was being a nag, but she didn't care. "Are you a wizard or not?" she demanded. "Did you not study seven years of magic for the express purpose of using it for any activity you are too lazy to do manually? Just banish all of this junk and be done with it. I know you're too lazy to do it the long way."

"I can't," he answered, "I might accidentally throw away some things I might still be able to use. I have to sort all of that out first before I can start getting rid of anything."

"Sometimes, I question how you can be an artist. You're a mess. Literally."

"Mess is art," he stated righteously, raising his brows at her challengingly. "It's called artistic clutter."

Ginny's own brow countered his challenge. "A week old lunch is art? In what dimension would that be?"

"No," he answered seriously, "that's called artistic oversight. It means the artist had too much creative thoughts in his head, he forgot to eat his lunch. Look it up. It's in a manual every good artist should possess."

Ginny snorted and marched out of his room after picking up her purse, carefully navigating around his clutter. "Next you'll be telling me I have to brave through your closet to find this manual. Nutters! That's what you are!" she declared. "And get your sorry arse ready already, we're running late. I'll sic mum on you if you make me late."

Colin was right on her heel before she could finish her threat of setting Mrs. Weasley on him. Evil bint! She knew he was terrified of her mother and she delighted in hanging that indelicate fact over his head.

"That got you moving, didn't it?" Ginny goaded, amused at Colin's speed.

"I should have left you with the sackcloth, maybe you won't be such a harpy when you know you don't look good." He pointedly glared at the dress he had chosen for her to wear tonight, a black strapless affair with a diagonal spaghetti strap cutting across one shoulder. He had swooned when he saw it displayed at Martinique and knew right away that Ginny would be perfect in it. The price had been a staggering 1500 galleons, but it was worth every sickle he had spent on it. His friend was looking spectacular.

Ginny smiled prettily at him, pirouetting before him slowly, letting him see the full effect of the gown. "You like?"

"You know I like," he pouted. "You also know that if I could get away with it, I'd be wearing that dress and not you so quit trying to dazzle me, I'm not interested."

Ginny laughed gleefully. "Don't I know it," she said in between laughs. "Too bad you can't or we'd be swapping wardrobes by now." Still laughing, she raised her wand. "Ready?"

Colin nodded and Ginny disapparated. He followed immediately, and appeared by her side in a sparsely populated hallway. She immediately took his arms and they walked side by side, smiling and nodding at people they knew as they neared the double doors behind which lay the future of the Weasley patriarch.

The attendant quickly checked their name from the guest list and with a flourish, indicated for them to go on in.

Ginny was amused by all the pomp and ceremony; if this was how the upper crust of the wizarding society was being treated, no wonder they tended to look down on those that were not swimming in excess galleons.

Once they were through the doors, she discreetly moved her eyes over the crowd already half filling the gigantic ballroom, looking for the familiar heads of red hair. When she found her quarry, she tugged on Colin's arm and dragged him over to where her brothers were gathered together, trying to fit in with their smart custom suits and bow ties. She mentally chased away the thought that they looked like overdressed penguins, the same thought that made her want to laugh her head off at their discomfort. They were her brothers after all and there was plenty of time for that afterwards.

She beamed at each of them when she reached their sides, giving each brother a thorough once over, making them squirm on their feet. Mission accomplished, she thought wickedly.

"My, don't we look quite dashing tonight? Who would've thought my brothers would clean up so nicely?" Her eyes lingered on Ron, who was so red in the face he was in danger of spontaneously combusting.

Bill laughed at his little sister's teasing. "You don't look half bad yourself, squirt. If you'd been with anyone rather than Colin, the fellow better start worrying." He gave Colin a menacing grin. "She IS with you, right?"

Colin nodded frantically. Among all of Ginny's brothers, it was Bill that gave him the creeps. He was tall, very tall. AND very wide. The personification of a bad boy, he was every girls fantasy between the ages of 10 and 80. The very first of the Weasley's to ever become Head Boy, he had heard whispered innuendos that he took his responsibility seriously. And literally. The literal part was dubious to Colin; how could this red headed giant Adonis play the valiant protector if he was a villain himself that had ruined many a lady's virtue? And only fright could make you wax lyrical, snap out of it Creevey! he scolded himself silently.

"Yes, Bill, er, William, er - Ginny and I came together and I'm not letting her out of my sight." Colin knew he was babbling but he could not stop himself.

Ginny smacked her brother on the arm. "You stop that, Bill, before Colin has an accident and wets his pants. Or swallows his tongue. I've seen it happen and it's not a pretty sight." Colin glared at Ginny as all six brothers turned to look at him, then at his pants, with raised brows, waiting for the aforementioned event. The pretty red head only smiled at him innocently.

"Thanks a lot, Gin, you're such a boost for my confidence," he gritted, his teeth grinding in annoyance. "I think I'll just go drown my shame in firewhiskey."

"Do be a good boy and stick to plain whiskey, Colin. I do so hate having you so drunk that I have to undress you myself." She beamed at him. "I almost broke my back last time, you know."

Colin moved so fast Ginny blinked in surprise; he was already across the room and away from the physical threat in the form of six male Weasleys before she could say she was kidding.

"Heh. Would you look at him scurry away like that? Faster than a speeding snitch, that is." She turned to look back at her brothers and flashed them her beguiling, little girl smile, the one that always got her off the hook without fail. It wasn't working this time.

"Undress him, did you?" Ron said dangerously, his eyes flashing malevolently.

"Oh, that," she dismissed airily, "it was just that one time, when he had one too many glasses of firewhiskey. I couldn't very well leave him fully clothed, seeing as he was wearing half the bottle of the firewhiskey he was drinking. It was no big deal. I didn't even see his bits."

Ron sputtered as his mouth flapped open then close again like a fish. Charlie took pity on him and smacked him upside the head, cutting off his undignified look.

"Oh look, there's Luna." Ginny was grateful for the appearance of the other woman, at least she was spared from trying to come up with an explanation that would not leave her chained to her brother's sides.

As Ron turned to greet his girlfriend who, for once, decided to forego with the traditional butterbeer cap necklace, she linked arms with Bill and subtly maneuvered him away from their other brothers.

"How's Dad, Bill?"

The question was so loaded with meaning that Bill didn't know where to begin. "Fine, I guess, at least now he's more or less accepted the preeminent appointment. Mum hasn't said a word about the whole thing; I think she's waiting for Dad to decide before she gives him her opinion. She probably realizes Dad already has enough stress to deal with at work without her adding into all his pile of shit."

Ginny nodded in understanding. "So it's official then?"

Bill shook his head. "Not yet, no, but the wind is blowing mightily in that direction. From what I could gather, there's no one else being groomed for the position. You might have to practice how to be a Minister's daughter any day now. Champagne?"

Ginny shook her head. They had reached the open bar as they were talking, and Bill asked the bar attendant for his order. "Just gin and tonic, please," she ordered. She shrugged when Bill threw her a strange look. "My history with alcohol is not something I'm particularly proud of, so don't ask."

Bill let her comment pass; he had been away for far too long that there were bound to be some things he would not be privy to. They proceeded to a secluded corner of the ballroom once they had their drinks and quietly contemplated the crowd around them.

The guest list for tonight's soiree was impressive to say the least. From the wealthiest pureblood families with galleons that would make your head spin, to the heroes of the recent war be they muggle-borns, half-bloods or half-breeds. For the first time in wizarding history, the basis of invitation to a heavily political gathering was not based solely on the influence of money but on the magnitude of every individual's contribution to the cause for the new regime. There were still divisions among purebloods and the rest of the wizarding population, but it was not as fiercely debated as before.

Bill tipped his head towards a couple across the room from them. "It's funny how everything comes full circle. If someone were to tell me three years ago that my family would be in the same room with them with no hexes flying, I would have told the fellow to go take a flying leap from a feroplane."

Ginny smiled. "Airplane, Bill, not feroplane," she corrected him then sipped at her drink before turning to look at who he was talking about, then promptly started choking.

Bill gently tapped her on the back, moving to cover her as she tried to get control of her coughing fit. Ginny gratefully accepted the handkerchief her brother handed her, dabbing at the tears in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Bill asked, looking at her with concern.

"I'm fine, I was just surprised." She looked over her brother's shoulder then docked quickly.

"What are you doing?" Bill asked, amused by her antics. "Why are you hiding? Or should I say who from?" He looked over his shoulders to try to locate the source of his sister's odd behavior. The only one he could see looking in their direction was Lucius Malfoy.

Ginny knew her brother was a very smart man, and if she wasn't careful, he'd be able to piece together the pieces of a puzzle to a picture she didn't want him seeing.

"You know I've never really learned to get over my fear of Lucius Malfoy," Ginny lied, willing her eyes to look innocent. "After the events of my first year, you can't blame me for being wary of him." She knew she was laying it on a bit thick, but she couldn't take a chance on Bill doubting her honesty right now. She knew she had gotten away with it when understanding dawned in his eyes, and her relief was immediate.

"I understand why you fear him, Gin, but it would do you a world of good if you try to put what happened in the past behind you." Bill looked over his shoulders again. "Much as it pains me to say this, he's not quite the monster we thought he was." He gave his sister a teasing look. "But don't get too chummy with him either, he's still a Malfoy."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "As if." She carefully avoided looking in the direction of the elder Malfoy's; she had a feeling that Lucius was still looking at her. "I have to go ask Colin about something," she said, nodding in the direction of the blond who was animatedly talking to Neville Longbottom, "and rescue Neville before he accidentally gouges an eye out. See you later?" She kissed him affectionately on the cheek before she started for her friend, taking the long way to get there in her effort to avoid the Malfoys.

As she neared the two wizards, she could not help but smile at the trapped look in Neville's eyes. The poor man probably had no clue what he was getting into talking to Colin, she thought. She took pity on him and tapped Colin on the shoulders, effectively cutting off his monologue.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she interrupted smoothly, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes to Neville before looking at Colin meaningfully. When she was sure that he understood that she wanted to have a serious talk, she looked back at Neville. "Do be a sweetheart and get me a refill, will you, Nev? I'm feeling quite parched."

Neville knew he had just been given a reprieve; since the glass Ginny was holding out to him was more than three quarters full, he knew Ginny had just given him the excuse to hightail it out of there.

"Sure thing, Gin," and he was off, holding her glass as reverently as he would the Holy Grail.

As soon as Ginny was sure they were alone, or as alone as they could be inside a packed ballroom, she quickly maneuvered Colin to stand partially concealing her.

"What's the matter, Gin? Why are you looking so frantic?"

"Don't be obvious, but Malfoy alert at 7 o'clock," she said quietly, barely moving her lips.

Colin nonchalantly turned and looked in passing at the direction she had indicated. When he saw that it was the wrong Malfoy standing there, he raised a brow at her questioningly.

"Unless I have suddenly lost my perfect vision, I see Lucius Malfoy standing there, Lucius. Wrong man, Gin," he stated quietly.

"I know it's Lucius, Colin, I'm not blind!" she hissed in frustration. "Which is why I'm wholly creeped out!"

"Why?" he asked, confused. She had never been afraid of Lucius, even after the diary incident; she went through a whole passel of emotion, but fear was never one of them. Now, she looked like she was ready to jump out of her skin. "He's just looking at you."

"Exactly!" she said, grabbing his arms anxiously. "He's been looking at me all evening! Every time I turn, I see his eyes trained on me. Why is he looking at me? It can't be because there's something on my face or Bill would have alerted me to it by now." She sneaked a glance at the offending wizard and proved her point: he was still staring at her and he wasn't even trying to be discreet about it. An entirely unpleasant thought flashed in her mind and her eyes rounded in dismay at Colin. "You don't think he knows, do you?"

"Knows what?" Colin asked, confused by Ginny's question.

"About what happened between me and his son, idiot!" She slapped his arm for emphasis. "Focus, will you?"

Colin shook his head. The idea was ludicrous. "I don't think father and son stay up late at night discussing their sexual exploits, Gin, at least that particular father and son."

"How do you know they don't? Don't you and your father talk about such things?"

"No!" he denied vehemently, and rather loudly too. "You have a sick, sick mind Ginevra Weasley!" He shuddered delicately. "You don't talk about sex with your parents. EVER. Unless you're ready to hear them talk about theirs, which you don't, believe me."

"Then if it's not that, why is the sight of me so fascinating to him then? I don't even look at myself that closely," she said nervously.

"I don't know," he shrugged helplessly. "Who knows what's going on inside a Malfoy's head. I'm not ready to venture into that man's psyche, thank you very much, nor will I ever be."

Ginny had just opened her mouth to continue her raving when she noticed that Colin's attention had been captured elsewhere.

"Maybe he was not really looking at you, Gin," he said softly, "but at something behind you."

Her brows drew together in confusion before she turned to look at who he was looking at. And her heart promptly dropped to her stomach.

Beside her, Colin placed his hands on her hips. To another, the gesture looked nothing out of the ordinary, but between the two persons involved, it was a clear indication of moral support. Ginny unconsciously sought out the hand resting on her hip and laced her fingers briefly with the other before dropping them to her side again. She always wondered how she would react to seeing Draco again, and now she was being given the chance to find out. She just didn't expect that when she did see him again, he would be with another woman.

"Don't worry, I'll be here," Colin whispered to her, squeezing her hips for emphasis.

Ginny closed her eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath before opening them again. Colin knew, even before he felt her back straighten, that Ginny of the post-diary period was now in control. And he was proven right when she faced him and he could see nothing in her eyes. It was eerie, looking at fathomless honey colored eyes, as though the person was not quite there and what was in front of you was just a shell. Even the smile she bestowed on him was not one he recognized nor particularly liked.

"You okay?" he asked anxiously, looking at her carefully.

"I've been better," she answered honestly. "I just hope he doesn't take it into his head to come near me or I won't be responsible for my actions."

Colin looked up momentarily. "Looks like you won't have to deal with him coming near you; his date, and I use the term loosely, is taking the initiative for him," he said to her quickly before their solitude was interrupted by the annoying voice of Ginny's personal nemesis, Pansy Parkinson.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Ginny Weasley. How quaint. You're the last person I expected to see tonight."

Ginny turned around and looked down her nose at the offending sight before her.

"Parkinson." She said the name so disdainfully that Colin had to stifle a snicker. "Still having problems with your sinuses, I see. All of your Daddy's money not enough to pay to have your nose fixed?" Ginny hated being catty, but Parkinson had always been able to raise her hackles just by breathing.

Pansy sniffed, which didn't help add to her attraction factor when she sounded like she had accidentally sucked something up her nose. Colin was not even bothering covering his chuckles as he watched Pansy grow angrier by the minute.

"And I see you Weasleys still haven't bothered teaching yourselves how to conduct yourselves in public."

As a comeback, it was rather lame, and Ginny's chin rose even higher. "You're being redundant, Parkinson; you could have just said we Weasley's have no manners. You might save yourself from having to talk more than you should and me from having to listen to your voice." She looked briefly at the silent Draco before she allowed the slight smirk to appear on her lips. "But then again, who am I to curtail one of your pleasures in life? You have very few of them as it is. Personally, I've never really understood the fascination of hearing one's self talk, but to each her own, I guess."

Pansy threatened to spill herself out of her dress, her chest was so puffed up in indignation.

"You should be careful, Weaslette," Pansy hissed, hatred making her voice quiver, "your father's not Minister yet. Don't act like you're one of us when you can't back it up."

When Ginny didn't immediately answer, Pansy started to internally jump up and down in jubilation for besting the red headed bint. Her celebration was cut short, however, when she became the recipient of a look of such disdain she was envious for not having mastered that art of facial expression yet. Which begs the question of how a lowly Weasley could accomplish such a feat?

"Who said I wanted to be one of you?" Ginny said haughtily. "The day I willingly become a simpering fool is the day I become your friend, Parkinson. And we both know that'll only happen over your dead body." She looked her up from top to bottom, "And from what I can see, it's not something that anybody will be sorry to see the last of. Really, Parkinson, a knock off Claudia Mendez? Shame on you."

Pansy's mouth dropped open in shock. There was no way this impoverished hag could know that!

"That's a lie!" she said shrilly, fists clenched at her sides.

Ginny just rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Parkinson." She made to leave but was stopped when Pansy threw her own dig.

"And what about you? Did you have your mother sew that tasteless excuse for a dress, or did you make it yourself? Do you honestly expect me to believe that a Weasley could afford a Martinique?" Pansy sounded so triumphant, she even stomped her foot to declare herself the winner of their spat.

Ginny really looked at Pansy for maybe the first time in her life. It was inconceivable to her just how completely ignorant she was and Ginny was starting to have a firm belief that Pansy was not as wealthy as she wanted everybody to believe her to be. It was slowly starting to make sense to her.

She looked at Draco again, who was avoiding looking at her. She wanted to smack him for blatantly ignoring the obvious, but smacking meant touching and she didn't think she was up to that yet.

"Maybe you should have Malfoy here teach you about which is which, Parkinson, you are apparently either just plain stupid, or you're just another social climbing monkey hankering for some stupid idiot with deep pockets to fulfill your sense of self-importance. Either way, you're both a total waste of space and air. And you're giving me a headache." She turned around and linked arms with a prideful looking Colin, who could not stop grinning.

"If that's the case, then why couldn't you stop looking at Draco?"

Ginny stiffened. Her hold on Colin's arm tightened as she tried to keep her temper under control.

"And since you brought the subject of social climbing up, it takes one to know one. Does that mean you're also here to try and find yourself a moneyed idiot as well? Or were you here for Draco?"

Ginny could not believe the stupidity of this girl. Did she really just admit that she was what she had been accused of? And what was wrong with Malfoy? Why was he just standing there, letting his banshee of a date make a fool of herself? As she turned to deliver her coup de grace, she saw that Draco was finally looking at her. But he might as well have looked elsewhere for all the feeling she could see coming from his eyes; it was as though he didn't even recognize her, as though she was something so unimportant she didn't deserve the courtesy of acknowledgment. The disinterested look in those gray eyes firmed her resolve. So be it then.

"Actually Parkinson," she said smoothly, "it takes one who couldn't care less to spot one who cares too much. And as for me being here for Draco? Please. He's been with you. I wouldn't want to catch whatever you've given him." She sneered at the red faced Parkinson. "There's something to be said for safe sex, I know, but no amount of condoms would make me want to take up where you left off. I wouldn't touch any part of you with a pair of tongs; what makes you think I'd let anything that's been dipped in you touch any part of me?"

Ginny blinked when Pansy shrieked and moved to scratch her eye out. The hand with gaudily painted red nails stopped a few inches short of making contact with her face.

"That's enough, Pansy!" Draco's voice brooked no argument as he firmly took hold of his date's flailing limbs. "You're embarrassing yourself, stop your caterwauling right now," he admonished disdainfully. His eyes suddenly locked with Ginny's and she resisted the urge to flinch at the coldness in them. "Engaging in a muggle fight with somebody beneath you is not the best way to ingratiate yourself to my parents. You wouldn't want them having second thoughts about your suitability as my wife, would you?"

It took all of Ginny's inherent self-preservation from breaking down in front of Draco. He had said it, and Ginny knew he also meant it. She would never be good enough for him and it hurt to finally hear it said out loud. All of a sudden she felt lightheaded, and with a last hateful look thrown at the still struggling woman, she walked away, Colin behind her, his arms steadying her every step.

"Just take a deep breath, put your foot in front of the other and don't look back," Colin whispered to her, his hold not letting up. He kept on encouraging her until they were out of the strident ballroom, the noise drowned out by the closing of the doors behind them.

As soon as they were out of sight of anybody, Ginny leaned on the wall of the lobby for support, her whole body shaking. She wanted to retch, but there was only enough pressure for her to feel bile in her mouth. She took deep calming breaths, and when that didn't do it, she closed her eyes. As soon as she had her eyes closed, however, she felt the earth start turning under her feet and she immediately snapped her eyes open.

"I don't feel so good, Colin," she stated weakly, right before she fell into his arms in a dead faint.

When she woke again, the familiarity of the area, and the bed she was lying on at the moment, hit her right away. She rose from the bed, swinging her legs over the side, wondering how long she had been out.

"Ah, good, you're up," a Medi-Witch said cheerfully, as she came into the room. "Your friend has been awfully worried about you and I could not tell him what was rightly wrong with you until I knew for certain he was family. Can you sit up straight for me, please?" she instructed as she pulled out her wand.

Ginny did as instructed and the Medi-Witch proceeded to run her wand over her body. "What's wrong with me? I don't understand why I just fainted like that; that's never happened to me before," she explained as the other woman started noting down her findings.

"Ah, but then I don't think you've ever had this particular condition before," she stated, smiling at her.

Ginny paled. "Why? What's wrong with me? Am I sick? I've been feeling tired for a few days now, but I didn't think much of it. Is it serious?"

The Medi-Witch laughed. "No, you're not sick, and depending on how you look at it, this might be serious."

Ginny frowned in confusion. "If I'm not sick, then why would you call my condition serious? Will I recover from it?

"Oh, I'd say you'll recover from it in eight months time," the Medi-Witch answered, the smile still on her face.

Ginny's frown didn't abate at the obvious glee the Medi-Witch was feeling towards her illness. "It has a time frame?" What sort of illness gets cured at approximately eight months time?

The Medi-Witch smiled beatifically at her. "Congratulations, Ms. Weasley. You're pregnant."

And for the second time that day, Ginny fainted dead-away.