With you in my Arms

81. Draco Malfoy, son of infamous Death Eater Lucius Malfoy

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There was a strangely agitated atmosphere in the Great Hall. Students of the sixth and seventh year were whispering and pointing at the papers that had been delivered with the mail a short while ago.

Ginny glanced at the High Table and found Professor McGonagall frowning at her Daily Prophet. Professor Sprout had a confused look on her face. Slughorn looked as if he just swallowed a potion gone wrong and even Hagrid seemed pre-occupied.

"Lissy, pass me the Prophet, will you."

Her house mate pushed the paper over the table and to Ginny's utter surprise she was greeted with Draco's face on the front page. She chanced a glance at the Slytherin table and for some strange reason the students at the other side of the hall were rather quiet. They didn't put there heads together or even talked in animated fashion with each other. Weird!

He wasn't too bad looking she thought, but a moment later she could have slapped herself because without fail whenever Draco came up she was reminded of his best mate, Blaise, straight away and the last thing she wanted to be reminded of right now was the dark skinned menace that featured all too often in her dreams, let her lose track of time while thinking of him instead of trying to study and was all too present in her thoughts in general.

She frowned. That stolen night with Harry popped into her mind. It had been different. Though at first she couldn't have said why, it was only when she had enjoyed his caresses with closed eyes that she had realised his fingers weren't quite as nimble at their work as Blaise' had. Her senses had been betraying her heart in as much as she had for just a split second been imagining it to be the dark skinned bringer of doom running his fingertips over her hip.

Dropping her head into her hands she groaned. She needed to do something about this Merlin forsaken wizard who had stolen her peace of mind and made her remember things she shouldn't have done in the first place. But she didn't want to see him ever again, not in this lifetime or the next. If she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to trust herself not to...

"Have you seen this, Ginny?"

It was Dennis Creevy, Colin's younger brother, nudging her. She looked up. He was referring to the newspaper. She took a deep breath and pushed the memories of passion filled moments aside.

"Yes, Dennis, I've seen it, but I don't know what the fuss is all about."

He rolled his eyes at her, grabbed the nearest Prophet form a protesting third year and placed it right in front of her, covering and nearly overturning her muesli bowl and toast in the process.

"Have you looked at it? I mean really looked at it?" he insisted.

She sighed. Looking at the face of her friend's husband wasn't anything she hadn't done in the past. He looked just as always.

Turning to Dennis she finally asked, "What exactly am I supposed to see? I mean, I've seen him lots of times. We've been here at school together for seven years. There's nothing special..."

"Have you seen his arms? His skin?" the excited wizard demanded in a strange tone of voice.

"His skin? He's just as pale as he's always been. Merlin, Dennis! I'm engaged. I don't go round marvelling at other guys skin."

'No, you're not marvelling at another guy's skin. You're thinking about having it away with another guy and a Snake no less!'

Trying her best not to blush at her own thoughts she turned her attention back to the young wizard, "What's the big deal?" she started to be a bit annoyed at the persistent youngster, "I don't see..."

"No, you obviously don't!" he interrupted.

She glared at him.

"His skin! Look at it. It's all pale and smooth and..."

He could see on her face that she had finally caught on.

"How can that be? That's impossible!" she whispered.

"Don't know, but however he's done it I bet there'll be a lot of people really interested in finding out how he's managed it."

He was right of course. There were still some Death Eaters on the run. Not many and none of the high profile ones either, but still. If anybody who was still trying to hide the fact that their skin was bearing witness to their past saw this... She hastily got up and had nearly reached the big oak doors before Dennis realised she'd gone.