A Very Naughty Love Story

"Number one," Ginny started, holding up her index finger. "Nobody could ever know about this."

Draco smiled lazily up at her as he scooted closer to Ginny. "That's a given," he said, his lips curving a little bit in amusement.

He took the finger that Ginny was holding up and kissed the fingertip lightly. No one had ever been able to hold up a coherent conversation when a Malfoy was hell-bent on seduction. It was written on the introduction of the Malfoy Manual on Seduction, a book his mother kept on threatening to burn but his father only had to mention page twenty-three and she shuts up.

When Draco finally found out what page twenty-three was about, he was never the same after.

"Num... Number three. Two!" Ginny stammered, trying to pry her hand away from Draco. He wouldn't let her, and he turned her hand over, peppering her palms with butterfly kisses, before moving on to her wrists.

"What is number three-two?" he murmured in between kisses.

"Number two is..." Ginny managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, hell and damnation."

She looked heavenward, as if seeking divine intervention, before her eyes fluttered and closed. Draco abandoned her hand in favor of Ginny's lips. Oh boy... She knew what to do with those cherubim lips of hers. Ginny returned his--in his humble opinion and those of the participants of the Slytherin survey three years running--expert kisses with a combination of skill and passion that sent fire directly down to the real Master Malfoy.

"You do understand, of course, that I'm just using you for sex?" Ginny said as she impatiently tugged her pale yellow shirt off. "And that I still love Harry and Harry loves me back?"

"And therein lies the appeal of sleeping with you," Draco said with a sardonic lift of his brow.

Ginny finally managed to fully remove her shirt and she threw it on the floor. Draco's gaze traveled from her face to her exposed top half.

He swallowed. "Ah... therein lies the other appeal," he said, yanking off his shirt as quickly as he could. He wrapped Ginny's legs around his waist and then... and then... there was no more room in his mind for logical thoughts.

---

Draco kissed like he played Quidditch: intense, physical, and bloody good at it. Of course, Harry was much better at Draco at... Quidditch. She gave the thought some consideration but shook it off almost immediately. She couldn't bear to think about Harry right now.

Her body was positively humming with contentment; all the bottled-up frustration and passion that had slowly built up inside her had all evaporated--no, more like exploded--when she and Draco came together.

"Malfoy," she said in panic, suddenly remembering something. "We did use protection charms, didn't we?"

Draco turned to look at her, his movements slow and still a little bit groggy. "Hn? Yes, of course. I never forget."

Ginny heaved a huge sigh of relief, unsettling a few straggly strands of red hair on her forehead. What if they had sex unprotected and she got pregnant, seduced Harry, passed it off as his so he'd marry her, and then given birth to a little silvery-blond baby with gray eyes? Harry's wrath would only be surpassed by Ron's.

"Ginny, I have a little ground rule to add to yours," Draco said. "Although you only got to number one," he added smugly.

"Okay, fine, what is it?" she asked, ignoring his jibe.

Draco turned himself to the side and propped himself on one hand to look down at her. "You should call me Draco. I'm rather fond of my name, you know, and you calling me 'Malfoy' all the time reminds me of Goyle Sr. talking to my father."

"Are you telling me I sound like the elder Goyle?" Ginny asked in mock indignation.

"You'll be surprised at how unnervingly girly his voice is," Draco said in all seriousness. "I think he was place with the sopranos in the Death Eater choir."

Ginny laughed, shaking her head at that. It felt good not to hold back laughter when Draco said something funny. In the hallways at Hogwarts, he admittedly made more than a few funny barbs or sarcastic remarks. But since most of these remarks are either directed at Ginny's family or at Harry, she couldn't exactly show approval. What does it say about her that she thought like this? Or that she could laugh at Death Eater jokes? Her parents couldn't even stand to hear the words 'Death Eater'.

"True story," he said solemnly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I have to go down and check on something." She reached for her discarded clothes and haphazardly put them on, feeling a little shy because she could feel Draco watching her every move.

"I never noticed before that you had... them," Draco said, holding his hands in front of his chest , while looking at Ginny's. "Very nice, Ginny."

Ginny rolled her eyes again. "They're a recent development," she said dryly. "They're going to be a big problem when I play Quidditch."

"Huge problem."

She ignored him and went out of her room and down the stairs. The truth was she didn't need to check anything--her mother won't be home for an hour, if she stuck to her usual schedule--but she needed to get away from Draco for a while. He was becoming too amusing.

When she finally mustered the force to come back, Draco was already up and nosing around her room, wearing only his pants. The crevice on his lower back distracted Ginny as she had a flashback of her running her fingers on the muscled hollow.

"Your taste in music is terrible," Draco commented disapprovingly as he rifled through her meager collection. "Celestina Warbeck, The Weird Sisters, The Howlers... Oh dear."

"Well, excuse moo for it not being up to your standard." She tossed him his stupid shirt, which somehow ended up on her desk chair. "It just happens to be what the general population likes, doesn't that tell you something?"

"Only that you only listen to what is fed to you by the status quo," he said. "Do you really like... Banshee Screech?"

Not really, but it drove her mother crazy, so that was a plus. "It's good for pre-Quidditch workouts," she said. "You better go before my Mum or Ron gets here."

Draco wrinkled his nose, as if coming face to face with Ron was even more distasteful than her music. He put on his shirt and ran his hand through his light blonde hair. The wispy strands fell back into place, as if he hadn't had a tumble in the bed at all.

Ginny walked him to the door, not really knowing what to say next. "Um, I guess I'll give Harry your mother's package when I see him."

Draco nodded distractedly. "Will you be at Slughorn's ball?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I'll be seeing you then," he said in a husky tone. "I really hope I do."

Ginny watched him leave, his hands casually in his pockets. She felt apprehensive and excited at the same time. It wasn't until almost an hour later that it sunk into her that she had a risqué arrangement with Draco Malfoy.