“Drunk, are we, Ginevra?” The amusement in the voice was tangible, and the warmth of the breath along her neck made her shiver, just the tiniest bit.

She glowered at her friends as they began to slowly edge their way back into the dancing crowd, but they merely smirked a distinctly Slytherin brand of smirk at her, nodding their greetings at the newcomer before disappearing completely.

Sighing, Ginny turned to face the cool voice.

“Hello, Malfoy,” she said, tilting her head up at the much-taller man in front of her. She took in the way his rolled-up sleeves set off the finely corded muscles of his forearms. She’d never seen him dressed so casually. The only thing that indicated money about him tonight was his unconsciously elegant posture – his outfit was a monochromatic palette of black. He wasn’t even wearing a tie.

“What are you doing here, Weasley?” Draco drawled lazily – though there was an underlying note of good-natured humour there that Ronald Weasley certainly never got to hear. “I didn’t notice any bureaus within the immediate vicinity.”

“I like clubs. A lot,” Ginny said with a scowl. “In fact, I come here all the time.”

“Is that a fact?”

Ginny merely made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. Draco chuckled as he signalled to the bartender.

“I’m here because Parkinson kept weeping about not having seen me for ages,” he informed Ginny as he slid a new drink towards her.

“I care because?” Ginny asked with an impish smile, sipping slowly on the cocktail.

Draco’s quicksilver eyes darkened as he watched her full, nude lips pulling on the cherry-red straw.

“I was just hoping you’d satiate my…curiosity,” he said in a low voice, never taking his eyes off of Ginny.

She blushed underneath his gaze, both hating herself for being so obviously affected, and pleased that he might not be completely immune to her charms.

“It’s all Blaise’s doing, of course. He thinks I don’t get out enough, or something,” she said with an exaggerated pout, sighing in distress when she reached the end of her drink.

“That was tasty, what was it?” she asked curiously.

“Cranberry and vodka,” Draco informed her, “though the way you imbibed it, it might as well have been water.”

He downed the rest of his drink – “whisky,” he stated in response to her questioning look. He slammed his empty glass on the wooden surface of the bar, and gently took hers to set it down as well, grabbing her hand.

“Err, Malfoy?” Ginny managed to squeak out as she struggled to keep up with his longer strides. Her hand felt impossibly fragile held within his. “What are you doing?”

Draco turned his head back towards the sound of her voice without missing a beat, and the easygoing grin he flashed at her made her wonder for a moment if she’d had too much to drink – it was suddenly that much harder to breathe, and her knees felt wobbly.

“We,” he stated calmly, spinning her around, “are dancing.” He pulled her flush against his hard body, and she gasped at the impact.

“Together,” he added, almost as an afterthought. His eyes, if possible, were darker than they had been only two minutes ago, the mercury barely glinting beneath hooded eyelids.

Full of alcohol or not, Ginny felt light-headed, being this close to the Malfoy heir. Sure, they got on well enough these days – Draco was Harry Potter’s Auror partner, and the latter had convinced everyone that Malfoy “wasn’t so bad once you got to know him, really, not to mention the fact that he hurls a mean hex” – but a friendly chat every now and then surely didn’t constitute this level of physical contact now. Not that she was necessarily complaining. Draco Malfoy was undeniably attractive – a fact she’d been fully aware of even during their Hogwarts days. Now, the overwhelming pull of her attraction to him settled low in her belly, a simmering heat that she wasn’t entirely sure had anything at all to do with either tequila or vodka.

“Don’t worry, Ginevra,” Draco drawled, rolling her name around in his mouth like a polished gem, “I don’t bite.”

“That’s what Pansy said,” Ginny managed to stammer out with a nervous laugh.

Draco’s teeth shone an impossible white underneath the low lights of the club. With a jolt, Ginny looked around her, remembering that while they were unmoving, standing so close to each other that she could have curled her fingers in the silver strands at the nape of his neck, the other patrons continued to flit around them, buffeted by the perpetual waves of the melodies and the irresistible currents of the harmonies.

“Well, not unless you ask nicely.”

Ginny’s eyes flickered back to Draco’s face, and what she saw there made her toes curl in her stiletto pumps. She smiled softly, moving forward into his arms. He stiffened almost imperceptibly at this, but reached his arms out and drew her tighter towards him when he realized she really wasn’t going to run away in fright.

Ginny decided that she liked the feel of Draco Malfoy’s capable hands resting almost possessively on her hips. A lot.

And then they began to move. Blaise had nothing on Draco’s grace. He was all sinuousness and firmness, the planes of his body fitting neatly into the curves of hers. He guided Ginny as they danced, making her feel as though she’d been missing out on too much this entire time. The music never let up, always pushing them closer and closer together. Draco didn’t make a move without bringing her with him, and the heat of their mingled breath threatened to cause Ginny to spontaneously combust. The weight of Draco’s gaze was heady, and made her feel utterly delicious. She was incredibly aware of the tensile strength in his hands, and she closed her eyes as she tried to meld her entire self with his.

When she bent over in front of him daringly and slowly brought herself back up, her hands tangled in her own hair, her eyes closed in bliss at the incredible feel of him against her, the low groan that Draco let out was positively feral, and the almost imperceptible tightening of his fingers riding low on her hips made Ginny smile to herself with a kind of feline satisfaction that she’d never had the chance to feel before.