An Addictive Solution

Before the chapter actually begins, I think I have a lot of explaining to do... Everyone's complaining about the way Draco is acting towards Ginny, and... Well, people, can you imagine how he would feel if the girl he loves (and yet does not admit it) goes through their weeding day like a zombie and, worse of all, just express some emotion when talking to her ex-crush and your worst enemy? I don't think anyone, especially Malfoy, could take it lightly...

But that is it. I won't say another word because I want you all to keep reading this story (two more chapters to go, really) and please, tell me what you think! ;-)

Chapter Thirteen

Ginny was exhausted. She couldn't help but feel relieved when she watched her last relative disappear into the fireplace, just so she wouldn't have to smile anymore.

Her fake smile seemed to be imprinted on her face, and she knew she looked awful. Narcissa was nowhere to be found and Draco had disappeared from the room when the goodbyes had started. He, however, had been the perfect host the entire time and had even managed to escape the twins' tricks like a gentleman.

And that reminded her that he didn't like to be taken for a fool. Certainly, that was what he was feeling because of her demonstration of love for Harry. She knew Draco would be very upset, and suddenly her feelings went from relief to fear, and she wished her mother was there to hold her.

But not even her husband was there to hold her.

She saw a house elf coming close to her, looking terrified. She smiled, knowing exactly what that little creature was feeling.

"I'm here to take you to your room, Missus," the elf mumbled, looking down the entire time.

"What's your name?" Ginny asked, while following the creature.

"Willow."

"That's a very nice name, Willow."

The elf glanced at Ginny, surprised by the gentle words, and then finally said, giving the girl what seemed to be a smile, "Thank you."

Willow left her at a large door near the end of a long corridor and said, "If Missus needs anything, just call Willow," and with an eccentric bow, it left quickly.

Ginny opened the door to find the room empty. She looked at the dark corridor, seeing the light coming downstairs, and decided to enter instead of looking for Draco. The room was also dark, with a large oak bed in the middle of it. To its left there was a large window from which she could see the gardens, and a little further, something that reminded her of a small Quidditch pitch.

Well, not that small. Nothing seemed to be small in that place. She felt overwhelmed by the grandiosity of everything and then she saw a large picture of a dark forest that covered part of the wall. She could see things glowing through the trees and wondered if they were pixies. She smiled at how something so dark at first sight was actually enchanting.

She got closer to it and was surprised when it opened suddenly and Draco stepped out of what seemed to be a dressing room.

"You have to blow the red flower on your left to enter," he said, referring to the picture. "All your things are already in there."

His beauty was breathtaking. He was wearing green silk pyjamas that looked perfect on him and went very well with his silver hair. He looked at her impatiently when he realized that she hadn't moved, and said exasperatedly: "Don't you want to take a bath, then? It's in there, too."

She couldn't think of anything to say, and she felt like couldn't move, either.

"Oh, my, Virginia, I thought you were slow because of the ceremony, but now that it's over you don't have to look like a dead fish anymore!" He kept looking at her, bothered by the guilt he felt when he saw the hurt in her eyes. But soon he remembered how she had held Potter hours ago, and the guilt was gone.

"What, now?" he insisted, watching her stare at him blankly. "Trying to find some resemblance to your precious Potter?"

"No," she finally said hoarsely. "There is no resemblance between you and Harry."

"Yeah, well, bad luck!" He sighed dramatically, stepping close to her. "Did he like the flowers?"

"Yes, but Cho will like them even more," she murmured, gazing deeply into his eyes.

She felt like screaming when he walked away from her. "Do you want me to buy this?" he asked, looking lost for a moment.

"I had to let go of the Harry I dreamt about," she tried to explain.

"Well, maybe you should have tried to do that before our marriage!" he finally exploded. "You could have saved everyone the embarrassment! You made me look like a stupid, jealous husband trying to keep hold of his wife!"

She smiled faintly, watching his feelings pass through his eyes, and felt hope growing inside her.

"Come here," he commanded, and she immediately obeyed. "I heard what you said to Potter when you gave him the bouquet."

She swallowed hard when she felt him touching her shoulders with more strength than necessary, feeling the need to make her hurt as much as he did. "I suppose it's over, then?"

She nodded, trying to look into his eyes while he moved closer to her, his hands barely touching her. "I'm sorry I..."

"Shush," he whispered close to her ear, gently holding her face in his hands. "We can talk some other time." And he closed the argument with his kisses.

)( )( )( )( )( )(

Draco didn't mention the discussion, nor did he elect to talk about it again the next day, nor the day after that. Actually, he hardly talked at all.

Sometimes, when she was asleep, he would go to the Quidditch pitch and fly on his broom for hours on end, and she would wake up and watch him, without venturing to leave the room. She had been there two days, and the only person she had seen was Draco. Not even a house elf had appeared so far, and she knew it was by Draco's instructions.

Amazingly, she never felt lonely. She had received owls from her mother, her father, and Hermione, and although she was saddened by the way Draco was treating her, she was pleased he was there.

That was pitiful, and she knew that. She had gotten over a love for a tortured boy who saw her as a sister only to fall in love with a bad boy who hardly saw her at all.

But at least that bad boy was married to her. And she didn't want to think about all the circumstances; if they were married, it was because somehow he cared. And if he cared, she could bring him close to her.

Then she noticed Draco flying on his broom getting closer and closer, until he finally stopped by their window.

"You look like a ghost, sitting here when we can see it from the outside," he teased, watching her grave expression. "Why, Virginia, I know this room is probably bigger than the entire Weasley house, but it's not an excuse for you to stay here. What do you want, to rot and die?"

"Would you care?" she snapped, looking at him.

"Come on, let's fly," he said, ignoring her question on purpose and coming closer to the window so she could jump to the broom, but she didn't move.

Maybe that was a game, she thought. A game he didn't even know he was playing. Maybe, and this thought filled her with hope, he was so hurt for their wedding day that he was trying to hurt her back. Yes, it was immature, but what could you expect from Draco Malfoy?

"You know, I think you're not as bad as you want me to think you are," she said, feeling braver and ready to test her theory.

"Here you go with your nonsense!" He seemed exasperated.

"Admit it, I think you like me!" she shouted, excited.

"Weasley, stop it!" He tried to look angry.

"I'm not a Weasley anymore!" she laughed. "I'm a Malfoy now."

"Yes!" he exclaimed, trying not to smile and failing miserably. "You're my wife." She watched him climb to the window and he was soon standing beside her.

"I'm Mrs. Draco Malfoy now," she mumbled, watching him lean over her right before they kissed.