Work Text
His lips thinned as he saw her make her way in. Fuck it, just great. Hermione hadn't even warned her. Draco Malfoy looked completely out of place in his shiny Tom Ford dress shoes, sleep black slack exquisitely tailored to outline the bulge of his arse and a shirt so black it was obsidian, fitting tightly across his chest, his lean muscles mappable even through the expensive fabric.
Like a fucking slut.
The two top buttons remained undone. Also like a slut. His sleeves were rolled up, baring the taunt muscles of his forearms and the faded tattoo of the dark mark remained almost inscrutable amongst his other very snake and dragon fusion tattoos.She was sure there was one of a snake coming out of a dragon's mouth. Or its arse. She couldn't really tell. It was a myriad of tattoos, almost a glove on his arm. Well, it wasn't her fault Draco let Blaise play painter on his fucking body. Blaise had offered her enough times, but she'd always said no. “Malfoy,” She said cheerily, sliding into the last empty spot of the cooking class, right at the back by his side. “Let me guess -”“Shut your mouth, Weasley. Please,” He muttered fiercely, pinning her with an icy glare meant to frighten her. He looked like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. But Ginny wasn't afraid of the pastry white ferret even with his tall stature and rippling muscles. He could stare as much as he fucking wanted, she didn't really give a shit. If she was up on a fucking Sunday morning at some goddamn muggle cooking class, she was sure as hell going to make it interesting enough for her to deal with the agony of being awake on a holiday. The fucking things the people you love make you do, unfortunately, but Ginny was too in love to ever say no to her partner. “Gonna complain to Harry, will you?” She smirked, her eyes dancing with glee. Draco Malfoy had always been a bully. But she'd been surrounded by men with an alpha complex and enough misogyny to fill the fucking ocean. Quidditch picks and all that. Playing for the Holyhead Harpies wasn't easy, but God did she love it. Ginny knew she could handle herself. She wasn't a little girl anymore. With years of being a professional Quidditch player on her resume and what with surviving the war, there was little that spooked her.And besides, bullying Draco Malfoy back could be fun. Maybe not good, but eh. That wasn't her concern now, was it? Especially since she knew how he was in private. Their shared friends circles were never the type to keep private things private. Malfoy sneered, looking down his pointy nose at her in distaste. “I wouldn't waste my breath.”She laughed anyway and his brows furrowing, cheeks puffed and tinted red. He hated being laughed at, she knew. “But you would waste your Sunday morning here, huh?” She smirked as she watched his lip jut out in a very dramatic pout.He folded his arms and turned away, choosing to glare at the head of the lady at the station ahead of him. “What's the matter, Ferret?” Ginny goaded, knowing fully well that she'd touched a raw nerve. Malfoy huffed, looking grumpier than ever. She was very pleased with herself. She knew that the blond rich shit preferred to spend Sundays in bed, all cuddled up and refusing to let his partner sneak out for any reason, content with a late brunch and was, as a matter of fact, very intensely needy. Ginny thought he was spoiled rotten. It was no wonder that he looked like he could throw a tantrum at any minute. “Good morning, Class,” came the shrill voice of their instructor to which both Draco and Ginny flinched. “Merlin…”
“... Fuck me.”
“Gross, no. You're as pale as milk from a sickly cow, you slut.”Draco looked mortified.“How dare you?” He hissed in a low whisper to Ginny who merely chuckled. “I'll have you know that Granger thinks I've been looking better than ever.”He straightened, looking very pleased with himself. Ginny seemed unbothered. “So? Hermione is nice to everyone,” She shrugged. “They don't call her the Golden Girl for nothing, you know?”Draco looked like he wanted to say something incredibly witty, but was cut off by the instructors rather nauseating screech announcing that they were about to begin their class for the day: making pasta from scratch.She began to walk across the front of her class, waving her hands as she explained the process and the ingredients, her bright pink nails chipped and a smear of that awful red lipstick also made an appearance on her teeth. It was distracting in the worst ways. Ginny could hardly focus on what she was saying, her eyes continually drawn to the stained teeth. It didn't help that she was bored already, leaning her chin onto her palm propped on the steel workplace where all her ingredients were lined up already - supplied by the class, of course. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sensed a movement. Aha, something better to pass this goddamn morning. She turned ever so slightly, trying not to alert him of her observations and caught a good look at the Malfoy heir busying himself by putting on an annoyingly ceaseless, black apron on rather proudly. His pale long fingers smoothening it out unnecessarily as he smiled to himself, quite pleased. His black and platinum wedding band catching the light as he moved, a picture of elegance. It almost felt sweet; him so proud of his plain black apron. Well, not exactly plain, there was a silvery cursive initial D.L.M. at the upper left hand side. Ginny reckoned it was a gift. It had to be. Spoilt git. He was coddled worse than a baby lately and all their friends knew it. She grinned in wicked delight. “Aren't you scared you're gonna get flour on your pretty apron, Malfoy?” She cooed. “Or egg perhaps?”He twisted his head her way and scowled. “Mind your own business.”Ginny tutted aloud. “You can't say that. You have what I gave up. Otherwise you would never have found love. So you ought to thank me.”Damn it, maybe that was too far. She knew Draco was pathetically in love. To tell him that all he had was sloppy seconds was uncalled for. But she was tired and sleepy and, fuck her for wanting to push his buttons, she didn't really care. To her surprise, Draco's lips tugged up in a smirk. “What?” She demanded hotly, slightly embarrassed by herself. Malfoy merely chuckled. “You're jealous that I'm treated well.”Was she? No. It pissed her off. But she was not jealous. Definitely not. She scoffed. “Please. I'm where I belong.”“And so am I.” There was a slight edge to his voice now. He sounds defensive, vulnerable even. Merlin, she should shut up. But unfortunately Ginny was born with a mouth as big as her family. “What? Like you haven't had your whole life spoon fed to you,” She taunts him whilst they crack six large eggs into bowls and Draco’s blonde brows furrow further, focused on his work instead. “You sound jealous, Weasley. It'll do rotten things to your face. Not that you need the added terror. But think of the people that have to sight you. Pity them.”“Fuck off, Malfoy.” He smirked, arching his brow in victory. “Ginerva, I'm as displeased about this class just as much as you are. Perhaps you could be less of a bitch about it. I don't want to have to suffer more than necessary.”“I'll show you suffering,” She flung a cup of flour at him without thinking. Draco stiffened. The white flecks on his black ensemble didn't look all that bad. In fact, it was almost amusing how graceful he looked as he dusted himself ever so slowly. The man didn't even bother with magic. Or perhaps he was under the same instructions as she was, to avoid using magic for the extent of the class.
Fuck, that was probably it.
“Very immature, Ginerva,” He drawled so slowly as if he found her nothing but a little nuisance. She felt her temper flare at his condescending tone. The prat. She fumed, turning to work the eggs into her flour. The ratio of a hundred grams of flour to each egg was slightly off as they were supposed to use six eggs and she'd be damned if hers turned out worse than Draco's. So she removed one egg to settle five to five hundred grams of flour. The extra egg sat lonely in a cup, watching her use her beater strength to incorporate the egg into the flour. She was quite pleased with how firm and smooth her dough looked when the posh accent of the blonde prat interrupted her thoughts. “Weren't we supposed to use all six eggs? Salazar, did you find another use for your last egg? How creative.”Before she could snap back, she felt a cold wet trickle slip through her hair and down her neck. Oh, fucking hell. He did not. He was smiling at her, pearly white teeth on display and grey eyes dancing with glee. The cup on her table was empty.
Fucking hell, he did!
She instinctively reached for her wand when his long fingers wrapped themselves tight around her wrist and held her captive. “Ah, ah, ah. Granger said no magic, remember?”Ginny scowled and jerked her hand out of his grasp. When she came back from the bathroom, her hair wet and dripping from having washed the egg out, Draco was already working his dough through the pasta machine. He took one look at her and her wet hair, and burst into a fit of giggles. She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek, but she couldn't help herself. His laughter was light and infectious. She chuckled as well. “You're such a prat.”“Mhmm. I've been called worse.” “What? A bed bug?” She teased knowingly. A flush crept up his neck and onto his cheek, bright against the pale of his skin. “I'm not the biting one and you know it,” He mumbled, sliding another flat of dough into the cutter and scooped the tagliatelle that came out the other side.He looked rather pleased with himself. Ginny shook her head, smirking as she turned to her own dough. Hers was definitely going to be different. It would be better. She spied Draco drying his pasta ever so slowly, muttering how much faster he could get it done with a simple spell. Let him suffer, she thought with glee. Before turning back to the mess of her workplace and began to roll out the spirali on the pasta mat as fast as she could. It was hard work and a bead of perspiration trickled down the side of her face, followed by more, her annoyance greatly heightened by the merry humming to her right and she was hit by the strong smell of delicious, garlicy white sauce. She remembered then that Hermione often told her that potions were what Malfoy was best at. No wonder he breezed through the lesson, stirring his sauce with his eyes on the recipe in his other hand. Reading and re-reading, it would seem. She couldn't lose. Not to him. Not to the bloody Ferret. He would never let her live it down. Especially since he frequented their Friday night drinking games like a bloody plague. Fine. Perhaps she was annoyed at how easy he made everything look. Bloody pest. By the time he was done, grating Parmesan over his carefully plated bowl of pasta, Ginny was scrambling to finish.Draco's cool, faintly amused eyes met her’s and she scowled. Her hair wild and whipping across her face angrily as she scooped boiled, slightly overdone pasta straight into her red sauce. “Merlin, are you trying to keep up with Granger's curly disaster?” He chuckled, earning himself a flick of a sauce spoon his way. The drop hit the side of his lips and the slut he was actually slid his tongue out to lick it off. “Mm… Needs more salt,” He said loftily as the instructor announced that the class was over. Partners filled into the room and Ginny hurried to plate her overdone, over saucy pasta. Draco laughed as he watched her, but gasped as an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against a warm hard body. He blushed, looking over his shoulder as Harry grinned, leaning close to lick a spot of red on his chin that Draco had missed. “Mm.. Delicious, but needs more salt.”Ginny scowled at Harry while Draco laughed, relaxing into his husband's arms.“That's what I said!” He smirked victoriously at Ginny, watching Harry turn to sample the outcome of his lesson. Ginny glared at the pair as she plucked a teaspoon and scooped some of the red sauce before poking it into the mouth. “It tastes good enough,” Ginny declared hotly, before gentle fingers cupped her chin and turned her to Hermione’s smirk.Two years of marriage and still Hermione made Ginny’s heart skip a beat. Dating her brother’s ex was the best thing she'd ever done in her life.Ron was mortified at the start, but now had learnt to accept it. Molly just said that Hermione was meant to be part of the family anyway. “Let me try,” She said, all honey and golden, before she leaned in and placed her soft lips against Ginny’s, her tongue slipping into her mouth to taste the remnants of the sauce, before she pulled away. “Perfectly delicious,” Hermione giggled and Ginny was deaf to the laughter of the boys at her right, dropping her spoon to shove her fingers into those curly browns and kiss her again.Fiercely, demanding and needy. The muggle cooking class was an awful experience, but Ginny would do it again. She would do anything actually if it made Hermione smile.