Special Delivery For: themadmermaid Title: To Save The World Author: curia_regis Recipient's IJ/LJ name: themadmermaid Rating: R Pairing(s): Lucius/Ginny, past Harry/Ginny Word Count: 5764
Summary: Ginny’s marriage falls apart and she ends up embroiled in a political plot. Lucius is willing to trade her information, but at a price. Author's notes: I did a bit of a peek through your journal and figured out some of the things you don’t like. I hope you like this! I did originally mean for this to be a romantic piece, but it turned out slightly differently!
-
Ever since the age of eleven, Ginny had known that she was going to marry Harry Potter. When it finally happened, she expected to finally get her happily-ever-after.
She knew that people were going to be jealous of her. She knew that she was going to get unwanted attention.
But she hadn’t counted on the number of rumours that circulated.
Ginny was sick of the rumours. For the first few years, she just ignored them. Once the kids were born, the newspapers quietened slightly, but now that they were at Hogwarts, the rumours started up again.
There were whispers of infidelity. Apparently Harry was supposed to have five mistresses hidden all over the United Kingdom. She was said to have slept with her boss at the Ministry. Some said that she was secretly in league with the remaining Death Eaters and would undermine the entire peace of the wizarding world. Others argued that it was Harry who they should be scared of. And those were the normal ones!
The most bizarre one she had heard so far was at the toilets at work. Two ladies were whispering that perhaps Mrs Potter was a werewolf.
Ginny couldn’t help snorting and the hushed whispers stopped immediately. Just because she rarely turned up to Ministry functions any more, didn’t mean that she was a werewolf!
The rumours had gotten so bad that Ginny had stopped reading the Daily Prophet.
“Good,” Harry had said when she told him. “It’s trash anyway.”
Ginny bit her lip. “But you’re missing the point!”
Harry had simply patted her arm. “They’re just rumours, Gin. They can’t hurt us. We know they’re false.”
Ginny couldn’t help but wondering how he knew with such certainty. Harry was rarely home nowadays. He was always so busy with Ministry events. He barely had time to send the children off on the Hogwarts train each semester.
Despite her mother’s protests, they had hired a nanny for their children during the holidays. Ginny regretted having to do so, but she was working full time. Harry was working more than full time. It was necessary.
Sure Molly Weasley had never done anything like that, but times had changed.
Ginny couldn’t help but feel sad.
She loved Harry, but it wasn’t her dream life. She had expected her husband home every night for tea, much like her dad was. She had expected a nice, cosy, warm, home environment, much like the Burrow. Instead, their residence reminded her more of a hotel. It was pristine and beautiful, but had never felt like home.
She missed the tiny two bedroom apartment they had when she had first graduated from Hogwarts. Harry was only making a pittance at the Ministry because he refused to accept jobs that he argued he wasn’t qualified for.
She had loved him so much then.
-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Harry told her as he held her hands. “But I need to be at this event.” He hesitated. “You could come too.”
Ginny shook her head, biting her lip to stop the tears. “But you promised!” she protested, hating the pleading tone in her voice. “You promised you’d be at home for our anniversary.”
Harry gave her an apologetic smile, let go of her hands and walked towards the door. “We’ll have champagne when I get back, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”
Ginny stared at his retreating behind as the door slowly closed behind Harry with a click.
She still loved Harry. But something was missing. It wasn’t something as ridiculous as not being “in love” with him any more. She was still in love with him.
But, Ginny reflected, sometimes being in love wasn’t enough. Love didn’t equal happiness. They were on different life tracks now. All their kids were at Hogwarts. There didn’t seem to be anything holding them together as a couple any more.
It was with this in mind that she filed for divorce.
-
It was an uncontested divorce.
Despite this, the Daily Prophet trotted out images of their children crying.
Ginny couldn’t see the point of informing them that the photos were years old and of the children at the funeral of their grandfather.
Every time she was seen in public with a man, Ginny saw photographers surreptitiously snapping photos. She wasn’t dating yet and as far as she knew, Harry wasn’t either, but according to the papers they were both having torrid romances with multiple people.
Ginny hoped it would all end soon. At least for her. Surely after a few months of not being Harry Potter’s wife, she would be left alone.
-
She went back to her maiden name and asked for a transfer at work.
Ginny Weasley was starting over. She wanted a new life for herself. A life away from Harry Potter and Quidditch.
-
Azkaban was just as depressing without the Dementors. Ginny stepped off the tiny rocking boat onto the island and took a deep breath. She never liked travelling by sea. The salty ocean breeze flicked her hair against her face.
“Mrs … Ms Weasley,” the guard said politely as he came towards her. “Please come with me.”
Ginny nodded and followed him. She tried not to look at what seemed to be dried red spots on the walls as they entered Azkaban. She sniffed. It smelt better than she expected. In fact, it didn’t smell much like anything except the ocean.
“We try to have good hygiene with the prisoners,” the guard explained.
Ginny was glad. As it was, she wasn’t looking forward to her interviews with them but at least they weren’t going to smell. She clutched tightly at her folder held in her right hand. The Minister had personally sent her to evaluate Azkaban after 20 years of being Dementor-free. There were political elements supporting the re-instatement of Dementors on Azkaban.
Ginny shuddered. She hoped that would never happen.
-
“So,” Ginny said, trying to sound professional as she opened her folder and propped it up on her lap, “your name is Horatio Kingston.”
The prisoner, wearing an Azkaban-issue orange jumpsuit, nodded curtly.
Ginny couldn’t help studying him out of the corner of her eye. His beard was roughly cut and he had a glazed look in his eyes. Otherwise, he looked reasonably well-fed. Whether he was sane… well that was yet to be determined.
She looked down at her first question. It was going to be a long day.
-
It was her fifth interview and Ginny was beginning to feel that they were all going to be the same. The guards had generated a randomly selection of the general prisoner population and so far, while the reports of Azkaban weren’t glowing, no prisoner had any serious injuries and none reported guard abuse.
The interview started like all the others. She went down her list of questions and the prisoner answered them readily enough. And then she got to the question about Dementors. Ginny had always wondered why that question was put in there. Not a single prisoner so far was a proponent of putting Dementors back in Azkaban and it certainly wasn’t a surprise to her. No sane person would want Dementors over human guards.
“What’s your opinion on the movement to put Dementors back in charge of Azkaban?” she asked, her pen hovering over the “negative” box.
The prisoner smiled slowly and Ginny felt a shiver slide down her back. It was a creepy smile. It was the kind of smile she used to receive from the Slytherins back at school.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “You can put them back here. It doesn’t matter. It’ll all change soon.”
“What do you mean?” she’d inquired but he didn’t reply. The rest of his answers were perfectly normal.
-
Getting back to the office, Ginny mentioned the strange answer to her boss.
“I doubt it means anything,” he said finally. “You know those prisoners. They’ll say anything to get on the Daily Prophet.”
Ginny frowned. She couldn’t see why anybody would want to get on the Daily Prophet. It was a rag and just about everybody in the wizarding world agreed. Sure it was an interesting rag, and that was why it was widely read but still a rag!
“Forget it,” he said and handed her a file. “You did a good job with the Azkaban interviews. Peterson will write them up. Meanwhile, you work on this.”
-
Ginny bit her lip as she soaked in her bathtub. She toyed with her rubber duck. Harry had always laughed whenever he saw her take a bath. He always said that she looked like a child, like one of their children. She couldn’t seem to take a bath without a rubber duck. They amused her.
Her heart twisted slightly at the memory. She hadn’t spoken to Harry properly for months. They had short curt conversations regarding the children. And that was all.
Still, she thought, she hadn’t truly spoken to Harry for years even when they were married.
Her mind wandered to what the prisoner – she couldn’t even remember his name now, just that he had piercing blue eyes – in Azkaban had said. It had sounded vaguely like a threat.
Very vague threat though, she admitted.
Still, she reasoned as she squeezed the duck, who squeaked, it wasn’t something normal. And there was the look in his eyes.
She shivered and turned on the hot water tap.
-
Ginny tried to go to Harry with her suspicions. She wasn’t expecting him to understand but he had a remarkable amount of influence within the Ministry nowadays and she had to try.
Harry had looked at her with an amused expression on his face and suddenly Ginny felt like she was eleven again, staring up at the wonderful Harry Potter. “Ginny, are you sure you’re alright?”
She fumed inwardly. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange?” she said through gritted teeth.
“He’s a prisoner in Azkaban,” Harry said mildly. “He was in for, what did you say? Murder?”
“Double murder. Of his wife and daughter.”
“Precisely,” Harry said. “He couldn’t be expected to make sense after that.”
“I think,” Ginny said slowly, “that I know the difference between insanity and a threat.”
“But Ginny,” Harry said and she could just hear the patience in his voice, “he didn’t threaten you. He didn’t threaten our children. He didn’t even threaten me. He just made some vague statements.”
Ginny gave up. It was obvious that she was never going to make Harry understand.
“And one more thing,” Harry said, “you’ve been rather distant lately.”
She gaped at him. “We’re divorced, Harry. It makes sense that we should be distant!”
He looked sadly at her and she felt her heart ache. “Weren’t we ever friends, Gin? I’d love to have that back. It’s not the same without you in my life.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. Ever since the divorce, Ginny had felt like she was getting her life back, slowly but surely. She hadn’t realised it but she hadn’t liked being Mrs Potter much. And she was just getting used to being just Ginny again. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to lose it. “I’ll try,” she said slowly, “for the sake of our children.”
-
Ginny wasn’t sure what it was that made her continue to pursue the idea that the prisoner had been making a threat. All she knew was that deep down, she just knew it and knew that it was important. She had never felt such conviction in her life.
And it was that which led her to Wiltshire.
Standing outside Malfoy Manor – she still wasn’t sure what sort of malevolent spirits allowed the Malfoys to keep their wealth and stay out of Azkaban – Ginny took a deep breath. She lifted a hand and rapped sharply on the door, ignoring the snake-head knocker. She would be dead before she used one of those things. She could still remember her second year at Hogwarts and the Chamber. Vividly.
A tall attractive woman, with slightly greying hair answered the door. “Yes?” she said. “How may I help you?”
Ginny suddenly realised that this must be Draco Malfoy’s wife. She was unsure what the woman’s name was but it was rumoured that she had been a good influence on the younger Malfoy.
The woman smiled at her in puzzlement when Ginny didn’t answer. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“Oh!” Ginny said, and flushed red with embarrassment as she realised that she was studying the other woman. “I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “I’m here to speak to Draco Malfoy. Your husband.” A fleeting frown passed over the other woman’s features and Ginny suddenly realised what her request sounded like. “I’m here on Ministry business,” she added, trying to sound official.
The woman pursed her lips and her previously open-looking and friendly face suddenly closed up. “I supposed it was about time,” she said tightly. “They haven’t sent around anybody for a few years. What is it this time? You suspect my husband of helping anti-Muggle insurgents? You suspect him of orchestrating Muggle-born deaths?”
Ginny’s mouth opened slightly. “Nothing like that,” she said quickly.
The woman raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just here to ask him a few questions.”
“Ah yes,” the woman said bitterly. “Ask him a few questions. Take him for a brief visit to Azkaban. You think that it’s all so much more humane now that there aren’t any Dementors.”
Ginny held up her hands. “I promise. I’m not an Auror. I’m not here to arrest your husband. I’m just here to talk. I wanted to know if he had any information on something.”
The woman held the door open for her. “I suppose I have no choice,” she said. “I promise you though. My Draco would never do anything like that now. He’s not that sort of man.”
Ginny walked through the door and then, hesitated. Turning around, she held out her hand to the woman. “My name’s Ginny Weasley.”
The woman gave the briefest jump at the name and then her features composed themselves once more. “I’m Astoria Malfoy.”
-
They entered the study. A figure unfolded himself from where he was sitting on the armchair. As he came closer, Ginny realised that it was Draco Malfoy. She hadn’t seen him for years. He had dealings with Harry at times, but she never wanted to see him. He and his father had starred in her nightmares when she was a kid and she had no urges to repeat those nightmares.
“Well, well, well,” Draco said slowly as he saw her. Astoria had quietly left the room by then. Ginny shifted uncomfortably as he looked her up and down. “If it isn’t Mrs Potter. Funny how I never saw you at Ministry functions.”
“I disliked them,” she said icily. “And please don’t call me by that name.”
Draco shrugged. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to ask you a few questions,” Ginny said determinedly.
He raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t an Auror. Last I heard, you were assigned to something to do with Azkaban. You have no authority. Astoria should never have let you into our house.”
Ginny took a deep breath. She had already gone so far, she might as well continue. “I have reason to believe that there is a plot involving Azkaban in action.”
To her surprise, Draco laughed. “And you expect me to do what? Help you? Tell you all about it out of the goodness of my heart?”
“Well, yes,” she admitted.
He shook his head, with the remnants of a smile still on his face. To her surprise, it didn’t look malicious. “You don’t know me now, Weasley. I don’t meddle in that kind of stuff. If there was a plot – I’m not saying there is – then I’m the last person who would know.”
Oh. Ginny frowned. She wasn’t sure whether she believed him, but she was beginning to realise just how ridiculous her quest was. She was all the way here at Malfoy Manor all because some prisoner – some probably insane prisoner – had said some vague threat-like comments.
“I’ll let myself out then,” she said wearily. She turned around and walked back towards the door.
“Weasley,” Draco said.
She stopped and turned around.
“I’m sorry about your divorce,” he said.
She stared at him. He looked genuinely sorry. “It was my choice,” she said quietly and shut the door behind her.
-
In the corridor, Ginny looked around. There was nobody around. Obviously Astoria had gone to attend to other matters. She was positive that the front entrance was to her left but she hesitated. She was already here. In Malfoy Manor. She still wasn’t sure whether Draco Malfoy had something to do with it, if there was anything to begin with. This was her chance to find out.
It’s snooping, her conscience warned her, but she ignored it.
Ginny tiptoed to a door and opened it. It seemed to lead into a bookshelf-lined study. She closed the door behind her, leaving only a crack. She walked over and peered at the books. They all looked reasonably normal.
Well, she thought, nothing that jumped out as being terribly Dark Arts anyway. She was about to dismiss it as a ridiculous idea and turn around to leave, when she heard a footstep behind her.
She froze.
“Well, well, well,” a smooth voice said. “Who do we have here?”
She turned around slowly and her breath caught in her throat. This was worse than she thought. Standing in front of her was Lucius Malfoy, eyebrow raised. He looked better than the last time she had seen him, which had been over ten years ago. His hair was mostly white now, but he still stood up straight. Right now, he was glaring at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll leave now.”
He blocked her way. “Not so fast, Weasley.”
Her heart dropped. He remembered who she was!
“I heard that little conversation you had with my son,” Lucius commented. “You were wasting your time. He doesn’t dabble in that sort of stuff any more.”
“He told me,” she snapped. “Now get out of my way!” Ginny hoped that the false bravado would work. She was a grown woman but in front of Lucius Malfoy, she felt like a terrified first year at Hogwarts.
“Not so fast,” he drawled. “You wanted information, didn’t you? On a possible plot regarding Azkaban?”
She stopped.
“I may have the information,” he said slowly. “I still have channels of information.”
Or more likely, she thought cynically, that he was involved with it. She looked up at him. “Well, then,” she said abruptly, “what information do you have?”
There was a silence. And then Lucius smiled. A smile that sent shivers down her spine. “There’s definitely a plot. It involves the entire Ministry. A coup, as they say.”
“So,” she snapped, “why didn’t you go to the Ministry?”
He laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do something like that? No. Information is far more valuable when few people know about it.”
“Well I’ll go to the Ministry.”
He smirked. “You don’t know anything. I know you don’t have any recording charms on you. You’ve already been labelled by your boss as a woman prone to hysterics. He won’t believe you.”
With a sinking feeling, Ginny suspected that he might be right. Her boss had treated her almost like a child when she had confessed her fears. Harry had treated her the same way. Both of them seemed to believe that the divorce was affecting her adversely. “I’ll tell them what you said,” she said firmly.
“Without any other evidence?” Lucius asked. “They won’t believe you.”
“They’ll believe me over you,” she snapped.
“Or,” he said, “they’ll just label me as a traitor. Ship me off to Azkaban and you’ll get a cosy cell at St Mungo’s.”
“You know more,” she said accusingly. “You could stop this. Why don’t you?”
He smiled at her lazily. “I could tell you what I know.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Then tell me.”
“Not so fast, my dear,” Lucius said. “I don’t give away information for free. I believe in a fair exchange.”
Ginny couldn’t help but start shaking slightly. She stuck her hands in her pockets to stop them from visibly trembling. “What sort of exchange? I could put in a good word for you in at the Ministry.”
He laughed. “Don’t be silly. Why would I want that? No, my dear, I’m sure you realise that Narcissa died two years ago.”
Ginny could feel sweat beading up on her forehead. She was beginning to get an inkling of where this was going. “Yes,” she said.
“I’ve been somewhat… starved of companionship since then.”
She strode towards the door. “I’m not doing that,” she spat. “Not now. Not ever.”
He laughed again, the sound churning her stomach. “You might change your mind when the Ministry’s in ashes, burning. When your Harry Potter is murdered and his corpse scattered to the wind.”
“That won’t happen,” Ginny said tightly and left.
-
She tried yet again to tell people at the Ministry. But nobody would listen. She even tried to go to the Daily Prophet but to no avail.
Harry began to talk about sending her to St Mungo’s.
To Ginny’s horror, it seemed like what Lucius said was coming true. She wondered if she was just going crazy. But Ginny knew she couldn’t take the risk of what Lucius said being true. She felt in her gut that it was true and that was good enough for her.
She couldn’t let the Ministry burn.
-
“No sex,” she said abruptly.
He smiled at her. They were in a small cottage on Malfoy Manor grounds. Apparently Lucius spent most of his time here. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I like my women willing.”
Ginny shuddered. She really didn’t want to think about it. It wasn’t like she was some shy virgin. After all, she had children and the damn stretch marks to show it. But the thought of sex with Lucius Malfoy – hell the thought of anything with him – scared her. “Then what?”
He brought out a shimmering red dress. She stared at it, uncomprehending.
“I’d like you to put this on. And then I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“In public?” she asked, a current of fear going through her.
“In Muggle London,” he said.
She was surprised. “And what do I get in return? Papers? Evidence? What plot?”
Lucius chuckled and his grey eyes gleamed. “Patience is a virtue. For tonight, you get some of what I know. I’ll give you evidence later.”
Thinking it over for a few minutes, Ginny nodded. She could live with that. Dinner and a fine dress. She hadn’t been out to dinner properly for ages. Harry was always so busy with his Ministry functions now that he was so very important in the Auror department. He just never had time to take her out. And since their divorce, she hadn’t been out for dinner.
Ginny realised with bemusement that she would enjoy dressing up.
-
She slid the dress up over her hips and zipped it up. To her surprise it fit her perfectly, hugging her curves like it was made for it. Somehow she would have preferred that it didn’t fit. This somehow implied that Lucius Malfoy knew her well. Even after twenty years of marriage, Harry had never managed to guess her size that perfectly.
“You look beautiful,” Lucius said as she exited the bedroom wearing the red sheath of a dress and the jewellery and shoes that were laid out for her.
Ginny looked at him. He looked quite good as well but she wasn’t going to mention it.
Lucius held out an arm for her. “Shall we go?”
-
“There’s a plan,” Lucius explained over the fancy dinner, “to overthrow the current administration.”
“You already told me this,” she said, annoyed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a waiter hurrying towards them, looking concerned. Obviously he thought the cause of her expression was the quality of the foot. She forced a smile on her face and spooned some more of the caviar into her mouth. “Delicious,” she said as the waiter walked past.
Lucius smirked and she knew that he realised what she just did.
Ginny couldn’t help it. She hated embarrassment in a public restaurant. “Shut up,” she hissed.
“There’s a traitor close to the Minister,” Lucius said. “Before you ask, I don’t know who it is.”
“Then, pray,” Ginny said, trying to do her best impression of an icy voice, “what is the point of this dinner?”
“Well obviously,” Lucius drawled, “that’s not the information all I have. But we’ll have many more nights to ourselves, won’t we?”
With reluctance, Ginny nodded.
-
“You want to do what?” Ginny gasped, horrified.
“Give you a massage,” Lucius said patiently. He hesitated slightly. “I used to do it for Narcissa. I … miss it.”
Against her wishes, Ginny suddenly felt a stab of sympathy for the man. Despite the fact he was making her do this for important information, she suddenly realised that he must have loved his wife very much. To her annoyance, she suddenly realised that Harry had never done anything like that for her.
“If you must,” she said tightly.
“A rousing endorsement,” he remarked.
Ginny tensed up when she felt his hands on her back. This was Lucius Malfoy. The man who had handed her over to Tom Riddle when she was just a kid. Yet, as she felt his skilled fingers working out the knots in her muscles, she couldn’t help a tiny moan escaping her lips.
Immediately after, she clamped her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to show any enjoyment regardless of how good his massages were. It didn’t matter that somehow it felt like her shoulders had a direct connection to her groin. It didn’t matter that his chuckle and his hot breath against her neck somehow felt good instead of disgusting.
She just wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
-
Several weekends and three trysts later, Ginny couldn’t help but realise that she didn’t know terribly much more information than she had at the beginning. She realised that there was a plot against the current ministry, that the Minister had no idea. Obviously Harry had no idea either. One top Ministry official, at least, was a traitor. The plan had been in motion for months at least.
Other than that though, she didn’t know anything else. And somehow, completely bizarrely, she had managed to develop an almost friendship with Lucius Malfoy.
At least she didn’t cringe at his touch now.
Not that he really seemed to want to touch her. Other than give her massages. He really seemed to enjoy doing that. She had suggested tartly that he go and become a masseur and was rewarded with a chuckle.
To be surprise, it seemed like Lucius Malfoy didn’t want to have sex with her.
Ginny wasn’t sure why that annoyed her. Surely she should be glad. After all, she most definitely didn’t want to have sex with Lucius Malfoy.
After the first few years of their marriage, her and Harry had settled down into a comfortable routine of sex once a week. Twice a week if they were feeling adventurous. Ginny hadn’t been terribly happy about that at first, but she had gotten used to it.
But ever since their divorce, she hadn’t had sex once. She was terrified that anybody she did proposition would go running to the Prophet. She couldn’t handle that. Especially since the Prophet had finally stopped publishing stories about her.
But she seemed to be perpetually horny nowadays. Especially when Lucius’s hands were all over her back.
Ginny couldn’t help wondering if he found her unattractive. After all, she’d had three children and wasn’t at the first bloom of youth any longer. Still, Narcissa had been a lot older when she had died. From some of what Lucius had said, they had still been having regular sexual relations. Far more regularly than her and Harry.
She couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
Lucius’s hands stopped. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said and winced at how grumpy she sounded. “You haven’t told me anything useful.”
She thought she heard him sigh. She sat up and looked at him. “Well if I didn’t know better, I’d say I’ve hurt your feelings.”
Lucius regarded her coolly. “Don’t be ridiculous. But I know you’re coming here for more than just information now.”
Ginny gasped. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, while inwardly panicking. She wasn’t attracted to the man. It was preposterous. It was just she hadn’t had sex in a while. A long while. She’d be attracted to anybody at the moment. And damn it, Lucius Malfoy did give damn good massages.
He smirked at her and then to Ginny’s surprise, he leaned in. She gasped as she felt his lips over hers. A tingle went all throughout her body. She felt like she was melting into his arms. And she suddenly realised that Harry had never made her feel like this.
She pulled back, horrified. “You agreed,” she snapped. “No sex.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow at her. “That wasn’t sex.”
Ginny bit her lip. Technically he was correct. She could have kicked herself for not being specific.
“Look,” Lucius said bluntly, “this isn’t a relationship. I know you’re worried about the Prophet. I can promise you I won’t go running to them. I’m sure you won’t. We’re both adults.”
Ginny hesitated.
She wanted to. As ridiculous and horrifying as it was, she wanted to continue. She wanted to see what it was like to have sex with Lucius Malfoy. She hadn’t had sex with anybody other than Harry before and sometimes she regretted it. They had married young. Too young. She didn’t have a chance to experience the world and she regretted it now.
“Okay,” she whispered.
-
Lucius was a surprisingly gentle lover.
Ginny had expected him to fuck her into the bed, expected him to take her up against the wall, expected to be pounded until she was gasping and begging for more. Hell, she was anticipating that. She would have relished the change.
Harry had always been a hesitant lover. Even after twenty years of marriage, he seemed reluctant to touch her. He seemed to prefer to watch as she took her clothes off. It had turned her on at first, but after a while, Ginny just wanted him to push her onto the bed and fuck her within an inch of her life.
But it never happened.
She had enjoyed it when he had gone down on her but it was nothing like when Lucius did it. When Lucius took one long lick, she felt herself clenching the sheets as she gasped. Lucius seemed to be able to make her come with just a few licks or a few caressed whereas it took Harry hours at times.
She reasoned that it was just the thrill of the unknown. Surely after a few sessions with Lucius the thrill would leave. And then she wondered why she thought that this would continue. It was ridiculous. She was just horny. It was a convenience. For both of them. It wasn’t going to continue.
Ginny gasped as Lucius ran his tongue over her nipple. It sent sparks all the way down her body. It was so wrong, yet so right as he took her nipple into his mouth.
She shivered as he positioned himself.
He entered her slowly, almost gently, but with none of the hesitation of Harry. When Harry had fucked her, she had always felt delicate. Felt like he was terrified of having to explain to her brothers that he had somehow broken her.
When Lucius fucked her, she felt whole.
-
“Well,” she said as she sat up in bed afterwards, “I expect you have a lot to tell me after that. Some evidence even.” She raised an eyebrow, a mannerism she had copied from him.
Lucius laughed. “Typical,” he said, but his tone wasn’t angry. “I see you still haven’t learned patience.”
She glared at him. “You promised me that you’d tell me.”
“Patience, my dear,” he said, “is a virtue. All in good time.”
Ginny leaned back and played with a small tassel on the bedspread. “And in the meantime?” she said quietly knowing that she was playing with fire and that she could get burnt at any second. This was stupid, stupid, stupid. She was propositioning Lucius Malfoy, but she’d just had sex with him so nothing seemed that ridiculous any longer.
He chuckled and leant over her.
Ginny gasped as he nibbled on her neck. She could feel him hardening against her and to her surprise, she felt herself getting wet again. She wondered whether he was taking anything for extra stimulus, but the thought was driven out of her mind as he firmly pressed her back onto the bed.
-
Ginny knew she was doing something stupid. Yet, she reasoned, she was getting everything she hadn’t gotten from Harry. Somehow, Lucius had become everything that Harry wasn’t during their marriage.
He was still Lucius Malfoy, but he was different when he was with her. Ginny thought she could grow to like him.
Plus, she had a far more noble reason.
She was saving the world. She needed to do this. It was important. She was saving Harry’s life and the Ministry and everybody.
And wasn’t that more important?
-
Epilogue
“I’m worried about her,” Harry admitted. “She hasn’t been the same since the divorce.”
Ron frowned and Hermione looked sympathetic. “She’s been mentioning something about a plot.”
“Yes,” Harry said. “She seems to believe there’s some sort of political plot to take over the Ministry. Insurgents. It’s ridiculous, of course, but she believes it. She hasn’t been coming to work for the past few weeks but she floos once every few days to ask me if I believe her.”
“What if she’s right?” Hermione said bluntly. “It’s a possibility. Shouldn’t we listen to her?”
“She isn’t,” Harry insisted. “There’s been no chatter. Nothing. She just hasn’t been the same since the divorce. You’ve checked too, Hermione.”
She nodded slowly. “But just because we’ve come up with nothing…” she started but then stopped.
Ron bit his lip. “Perhaps,” he said softly. “Perhaps St Mungo’s is best.”