Winning over the Weasleys by Emeralds in the Dark Chapter 9
sex advice. Come on Red, you're a
professional. You're better than that.
Draco blasted past her, snatching the Quaffle clean from
her hold. Jinny barrel rolled on her
broom, fire flashing in her eyes.
He supposed he should have been worried, but he thrived on it
instead. He didn't get many moments over
her anymore, not since she'd gone professional while he only
played recreationally. You prat, She shouted, tearing
after him. He'd given her the newest fire
bolt last year for her birthday, but the Harpy's general manager
refused to let her use it since the rest of the team flew
Nimbuses. So, naturally, an anonymous
donor had outfitted the entire team with fire bolts instead.
Meanwhile, Draco still preferred his old Nimbus.
Less speedy, more agility. Draco swung low by the goal
hoop, tossing the Quaffle through the empty net before
turning with a sly grin, just in time for Ginny's broom to
collide with his. They spiralled downward,
crashing in the muddy grass, rolling over each other,
grappling for control. Draco finally found himself flat
on his back, Jinny breathless and straddling him.
That wasn't fair, and you know it.
She huffed. Maybe he had hollered at her
just before diving in for the Quaffle, but she should have
been prepared for diversions. I'm simply training you for the
many distractions you'll no doubt face tomorrow.
He chided, smoking up at her. Before she could retaliate.
He sat up, forcing her to slide off him.
If you're done attacking me. He said, brushing mud off his
hands. There's something I'd like to
show you. Draco had been nervous about
this. It was a big step, one he'd been
working on in secret. Determined to finish it before
her season began. He wanted to send a clear
message. He was done with the back and
forth between her flat and the Manor.
He wanted Jinny to know without a doubt that he supported her
wholeheartedly in everything she did.
If this is just another elaborate excuse to show me your
cock, I'd like to remind you that I'm quite familiar with it
already. She quipped.
It's not my cock, though. If you'd like to see that first,
I am happy to oblige. He rolled up his jersey, wiping
sweat from his brow as they jogged up the steps from the
back garden entrance towards his chambers.
Ginny peppered him with questions.
Is it Topsy's chocolate cake? Is it that bondage lingerie
you've been threatening to buy me?
Is it the collected hearts of my enemies?
Draco snorted. Do you still have enemies?
Oh, plenty. More than a few people deserve a
good bat. Bogey X.
I've been on the receiving end of one of those, he mused.
Your enemies must truly be wretched.
When they reached his bedroom, Draco made a beeline for the
closet door. He pulled it open, revealing the
expansion he'd spent weeks remodelling.
Walls lined in sangria red mahogany wood trim, racks for
her shoes, and built in shelves and storage for her brooms.
This, he beamed, is what I wanted to show you.
Jinny peered inside a closet. You built me a closet.
Her brow furrowed, and Draco's heart pounded harder than when
he'd stolen the quaffle earlier. I want you to move in, he said,
the words coming out steadier than he felt.
He'd been thinking about this since the day they'd gone
public, the endless back and forth and the constant planning
over whose place to stay at. This would make everything
easier. Plus, with a few house elves on
staff, she'd never have to worry about cooking more laundry.
She'd have full access to his private pitch, the gardens,
everything. But Jinny didn't look the way
he'd imagined. She wasn't jumping into his arms
with joy. Instead, she looked mildly
horrified. Draco what?
Panic dilated up his spine. We can redecorate if you'd
rather. Whatever you want.
Repaint new sheets, more neutral colours.
He was rambling now. Ginny shook her head, staring at
the closet with batting lashes. This is, but this is Malfoy
Manor. She breathed.
Yes, and it's perfect for us both.
Draco insisted. You love the pitch and the pool
and the jacuzzi, the balcony in the evenings for dinner.
And you know Topsy would adore having you here full time.
He exhaled, searching her face. I thought, I thought it worked.
Jinny's frown softened, but hesitation still lingered in the
creases. Draco, this is your home.
If I move in, I'll lose my space, my identity completely.
And your, your mother still lives here?
He scoffed. Mother lives in the East, Wick,
we barely see her. Do you really think this manner
is only meant for Malfoy's? A thought was forming, one he'd
never shared with her before. He turned toward the door.
Come with me. He glanced back at her, holding
out his hand. Jinny hesitated, but trailed
behind him as he led her down the corridor, past the towering
windows and ornate chandeliers until they reached the portrait
hall. He stopped in front of a
particular painting, one he'd visited countless times back in
7th year when his affection for her had taken root.
Who's that? Ginny asked, tutting her head up
at the woman in the frame. A red haired beauty gazed back
at her. Her ringlets spilled over a
corseted white gown. There was an uncanny
resemblance, so much so that the woman in the portrait seemed
just as taken aback by Ginny as she was by her.
Georgina Malfoy. Nay, Weasley.
Draco nodded. She married into the family in
the 18th century. She looks a lot like you.
I used to stare at her. Probably why she's so shy now.
He winked as the woman in the portrait blinked rapidly.
Down here. He said, stopping at another
frame. Melody Pruitt married into the
Malfoy family in the 16th century.
Jinny folded her arms. So what you're trying to tell me
is this Malfoy man, It isn't only for Malfoy's that my
bloodline is also just as woven into these halls as yours.
Exactly. And all you're doing is
reminding me that somewhere along the line, we're cousins.
She derided. All the old bloodlines are
connected in some way. He shrugged.
But that's not the point. Living here doesn't make you a
Malfoy. Living here means we can start
our life together. Jinny turned back to the
portraits, studying them in quiet contemplation.
After a dragging beat, she added.
Look at these women. They were all Malfoys in the
end. They weren't Weaseleys or
Pruitts anymore. Their identities faded into
yours. Draka considered his approach
before speaking, sensing just how deeply this ran for her.
You have five brothers, Red. The Weasley name isn't going
anywhere, but I'm the last of the Malfoys.
It was a rare glimpse into his vulnerability. 1 he seldom
allowed anyone to see. He understood what she was
saying. Her name was a source of pride,
a tie to a family that, for all its chaos, was whole.
He'd once felt that too. Perhaps he still did,
considering the way it twisted inside him to know that the
Malfoy name could end with him. But he didn't want to strip her
of that pride. He didn't want to mould her into
someone else. All he wanted was to have her by
his side, whatever that meant for him.
Whatever it meant for her. Jinny turned to face him.
What are you saying? That you want me to be Geneva
Malfoy someday? To have one of these haughty
portraits in these halls? The way she said it, Geneva
Malfoy, he'd fought to keep it contained.
Do not let her see how much it meant to him.
All I'm saying, he began carefully, is that I want you
here when we get to that point. If you want to keep your name, I
don't care. If you don't want a damned
portrait, then you won't have one.
But I want you in this home with me.
Jinny wandered around the hall. Silence weaved between them, and
Draco felt the burn of impending rejection creeping in.
I'm not going to force you, Jin, he said quietly.
If you don't want this, I have some opinions.
She turned to look at him, as though she'd just noticed that
he'd set his heart on a platter and handed it to her.
On how we can make the bedroom look lesser Slytherin and the
sitting room attached. I have ideas for that too, of
course. He said quickly, reaching for
her. Less Slytherin, but no red and
gold. All right, I feel like we can
agree on neutral tones. She bit her lip and bobbed, and
he seized the moment, lifting her into his arms and spinning
her, not caring that her body was still damp with sweat.
Jinny's laughter was a sound that could make any man feel as
if he were touching the sun. Draco knew, knew in his bones,
that this is what home was meant to feel like.
I've also heard a rumour. Jinny pondered, still in his
arms. Something about you offering
your fancy new box to my mum, dad, and brothers for tomorrow's
match. Draco feigned nonchalance.
I couldn't very well be sitting up there alone with, not while
your family watched from practically the ground, could I?
He shrugged, as if the gesture wasn't selfish.
Oh yeah, of course. The kindest of considerations.
She studied him, her fingers scratching the nape of his neck.
Are you sure you'll be all right by yourself?
With my family? Well.
Draco drawled. My mother will be attending as
well. She wants to show her support.
Ginny's entire body stiffened as he set her down.
Your mother is coming. She whipped around so fast that
her hair smacked him square in the face.
He peeled A strand from his mouth.
Yes, she was hoping to watch you play, is that all right?
Ginny blinked at him, then burst into more laughter.
Oh, do let me know how that goes with your mother in the box full
of my brothers, my mum, and my dad.
She giggled, shaking her head. Merlin, almost want to throw the
match just to see how they all handle it.
Don't even joke about that, Weasley.
Draco was well aware that he might have gone a bit overboard.
Was he wearing a jersey with G Weasley emblazoned on the back?
Yes. Yes he absolutely was.
Did he force not and Potter to be holding banners when they
arrived in the box? Without question.
Every bloody Harpies match he'd attended the past year, he'd sat
on the opposite side, dressed in his usual attire, silently
clenching his fists in triumph. Each time Jinny scored, he'd
grin and nod along to whatever his friends were saying, but his
eyes never left her. She was an incredible athlete,
far better than he'd ever been at Quidditch.
A natural. He used to wait for her after
games. Sometimes she'd sneak him into
the locker room and they'd rinse off together in the showers.
He'd make some excuse. Tis a beanie Not or Pusey,
whoever. He'd gone with that he'd be busy
later and disappear. But now he could breathe.
He could proudly show his allegiance to whatever team she
played for. He'd grown up cheering with the
Falcons. Now he'd sooner spit on their
jersey than wear it. Well, perhaps he wouldn't spit,
but he certainly wouldn't be cheering.
Draco had arrived at the box early.
The best part about owning one was that it came equipped with a
private bar and he needed to ensure everything was in order.
Weasley had confirmed that Arthur and Molly had accepted
the invitation, and so had Charlie and George.
Grainger, of course, was coming to.
Draco had made sure that Theo and Potter arrived ahead of
time, just so he didn't look like a complete twat sitting in
an empty box alone, waiting to greet her family.
Ron was next to arrive, grinning like a stunned goat.
He grabbed Draco by the arm and dragged him straight to the bar,
immediately ordering 2 pints. Hermione and I snogged.
He blurted out the moment the drinks were in hand.
The take away was brilliant, actually bloody brilliant.
And she went off on me a bit before, but then I was just like
honest about how she made me feel the night before.
I didn't tell her about, you know, Speed 5, but she agreed to
go on a date with me tonight and we might shag.
Actually, I'm quite sure we will, based on how we left it.
He prattled on like a man who just discovered caffeine.
I truly never thought I'd be happy to hear this news.
I'd still prefer it if you kept the details of whatever happens
to yourself. He was surprised, but not
entirely. He knew Grainger had been
nursing a fancy for the Weasley just as much as he had been for
her. Ron cleared his throat, suddenly
looking a bit sheepish. It's just, I haven't, you know,
done that in quite some time. Well, only the twice, really.
Oh, for the love of Merlin, you're not asking me for sex
advice, are you? Draco nearly choked on his
drink, glancing around in horror as if Ron were about to demand a
detailed tutorial on how to eat cunt right as his girlfriend's
parents walked in. Ron's face flushed red all the
way to his ears. Sort of.
He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
I'll make it worth your while. I've got to go to Romania on an
assignment next week, you could come along.
I'm staying with Charlie for the night.
He was pushing, and Draco made an effort to breathe through his
nose. Do not say I'll make it worth
your while while you're asking me for sex tips.
Draco growled. All right, all right, but hurry
it up mine, he might be here any moment.
Ron urged, motioning for him to get on with it.
Draco sighed. Fine, go down on her first, warm
her up, make sure you pulse your cheeks in beats like a fish.
Ron questioned, Sure. Draco ignored him once.
She's enjoying herself. Use two fingers, only two, but
curve them upright. He continued in a whisper.
Curve them upright. Ron nodded as if taking notes.
Once she's ready, easy patient thrusts.
You want her to grow accustomed to you, not just barrel in like
a moron. Focus on the clit.
Even if you don't hit the G spot the first time, if you focus on
the clit, she'll still orgasm. Draco finished.
Ron nodded seriously, absorbing the information as if he were
about to fly up the pitch and replace the Harpies Keeper.
Draco finished the rest of his pint and ordered another.
What are you 2 whispering about? Unkempt curls and a pair of
inquisitive eyes appeared at chess level and Draco glanced
down to find Hermione peering at them suspiciously.
Not wearing a jersey? What, as abortive friend you
are. He scoffed, purposefully
needling her, making clear he was the better fan.
I don't, I don't have a jersey, Hermione.
Flustered, Draco nodded and left the two clueless lovebirds
standing at the bar. Arthur and Molly entered the
box, both looking noticeably more cheerful than the last time
Draco had seen them. Ah, Draco, thank you for having
us. My pleasure, Sir.
He extended his hand, shaking Arthur's firmly.
And you've bought this box for the season?
Molly asked, eyeing his jersey. I come to all the matches.
Draco explained. And I figured it would be the
best seats to watch her play. Plus it can house her family and
friends. She is their star player.
You need a good view. He grinned, glancing down as the
stands began filling up. Oh, Harry dear, it's lovely to
see you. Molly suddenly spun around the
moment Potter's messy mop popped into view.
Dricker grimaced as both Weasley parents fawned over him.
Did they not remember that Potter had cheated on their
Angel of a daughter? Hurt her in so many ways?
Draco tried not to fixate on it. He knew there was more to it
than that. Potter was like a son to them,
and you forgave your children for their mistakes.
Besides, Draco could never complain too much about Potter
cheating on Jinny because, well, if he hadn't, Draco wasn't sure
he'd ever have had a shot with her.
I have a feeling I'll be abusing this perk now.
George said, fluffing out his coat as he followed his parents.
Draco rolled his eyes. Yeah, well, as long as it's my
tab you're abusing and not my body, I think we will be fine.
Oh right, I've got quite the howler from Gin on that one.
George smirked. Welp, back to the drawing board.
Guess we can't have a bunch of swollen genitals walking about
Malfoy. The voice practically rattled
the speakers. Draco turned, spotting the
largest of the Weasley brood. Charlie was nearly as tall as
Draco, but three times his size, broad and built like a bloody
mountain. The man was a brute.
First match. I'll see you in a play.
Thanks for the invite. Charlie said, surprisingly
genuine. That was unexpected.
He was actually gracious in his acceptance.
Appreciative many time. Draco replied, feeling
noticeably lighter about the whole ordeal.
This was so much simpler than a formal dinner.
It was on his turf, his grounds. He had control of the situation.
Why had he ever been worried? Of course he was going to win
over them eventually. He was raised to be charming, to
be gentlemanly, to say and do the right things when warranted.
Being a cunt had always been a choice.
The match was about to start and Draco took his seat, nestled
between Theo on one side and Arthur on the other, with
Potter, Molly and Charlie following down the row.
Behind them sat George, Ron and Hermione.
Green and gold fireworks erupted throughout the stadium.
The announcers voices lashed from every corner, calling out
the starting line up. Blurs of movement streaked
across the sky as players zipped by.
Her hair was pulled into a slick ponytail, her fire bolt, those
tight rippable pants. Draco knew it was Jinny.
He stuck 2 fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle, standing
to cheer around him. Her family and friends followed,
clapping and shouting with enthusiastic support.
Draco, am I late? The prim voice of his mother
sent a twitching shiver down his spine.
Nasisa looked out of place in her tailored black trousers, a
crisp white blouse, and a nearly knotted silk scarf.
The game is just starting, Mother.
Draco said, nodding toward the open seat beside Hermione.
Hermione's expression didn't conceal her discomfort.
Understandable, really. Sitting beside the sister of
Beleduc's restraint wasn't exactly what Hermione would have
had in mind when she agreed to come today.
Now, Sisa didn't know that you'd be joining us.
Molly stiffened. Or that you followed Quidditch?
Well, of course. Narcissus silked.
I like to support my future daughter in law's hobbies.
Interesting Joyce. Quidditch, some might say it's a
rather masculine sport, but this is the future after all, which
is have such privilege as now. She beamed, clearly believing
she was saying something supportive despite the way it
landed. Future daughter?
Molly started, eyes narrowing. Mother.
Draco groaned. This isn't Jeannevra's hobby,
it's her career. Yes, yes, right, Narcissa
corrected herself with a small wave of her hand.
My apologies. Jeannevra's career.
Draco was fairly certain it was the first time in her life his
mother had ever said the word career.
Charlie Weasley. Charlie was half hanging out of
his chair as he clampered forward to introduce himself.
Charming to meet you, Charles. Narcisa Purd.
The pleasure is all mine. Charlie syruped, far too elated
for Draco's liking. Arthur and Molly seemed to
notice it too, because all three of them, Draco included, were
giving varying degrees of disgusted looks.
Is this your first match? Charlie continued, undeterred.
No, I've been to a few before. Narcissa mused.
Do you have a favorite team? Charlie asked and before Draco
could stop him, he had moved from his chair to the one beside
his mother. Draco was horrified.
This was becoming a distraction. Well, I suppose this one.
Narcissa said airily. The teams in every place for is
my favorite. That's right, Harvey's fans in
our house. Draco flared.
Now he was the one getting disgusted looks.
Yes, our house. Narcissa turned to Arthur and
Molly, sighing theatrically. I am very thrilled to have
another woman around, it's been ages.
Draco shot her a glare. Mother, stop talking.
What do you mean? Molly looked panicky, and Arthur
gave him a quizzical brow. Ah, Jinny's moving in.
Draco announced, looking pointedly at his mother.
Probably not the best time to drop that to news.
Moving in to Malfoy Manor? George and Arthur said, almost
in unison. We're making some arrangements
to redecorate a bit. Draco added, attempting to
defuse the tension. Is the drawing room included in
that redecoration arrangement? Hermione smirked.
He'd apologised practically on his knees to Granger for that
bleak part of his past, but Granger didn't seem to mind
stirring the pot. My apologies.
Narcissa interjected. I didn't know you two were still
keeping that private. Arthur cleared his throat.
Well, all right then. Jenny's an adult.
She can make her own decisions, Arthur.
Molly started and Draco braced himself.
To his surprise, his mother cut in with an unexpected candour.
She's a lovely girl, Molly. Arthur, you've raised her
beautifully. It is an honour to have her in
Draco's life. I haven't seen him this happy
since he was a boy, and that couldn't have been too long ago.
You can't be more than what, late 30s?
Charlie chimed. Draco grimaced as his mother
actually blushed at the flirtation.
Mum, you know the mouth always have got their own quidditch
pitch. Run interjected through a
mouthful of popcorn. Ginny practices there more than
she does here. Plus earth flats in a dodgy
area. How many guard Peacocks have you
got again? Six.
They aren't guard Peacocks. Draco defended.
Weekly and they went with the Ministry raid.
Ah yes. Theo piped up.
I own them now, we're looking to rehome them.
Harry added. A resounding Boo spewed through
the stands as the harpy seeker was thrown from her broom by a
bludger. Draco stood watching, arms
crossed, as Jinny spiralled down like a comet, yelling furiously
at the puddle, mere beaters responsible.
He could feel himself getting angry on her behalf.
George joined with the booing, shouting something unflattering
about the gormless oaf. The whistle blew and the game
resumed without any penalty. Let's go Jane.
Charlie bellowed then turning to Narcissa.
You know, I was a seeker once. I actually loved taming wild
things, Probably why I work with Dragons now.
Draco tensed, He knew exactly where this was going.
He was going to need earplugs for the rest of this match.
I've tamed a few wild things in my day.
His mother teased back. Draco stood abruptly.
Mother, can I get you a drink? Water, perhaps?
A glass of Sauvignon Blanc would be lovely, dear.
Necesa waved him off. But I'll get it myself.
Jinny has the Quaffle. Draco whipped back toward the
pitch just in time to see Jinny streaking toward Oliver Wood's
goal posts over the roaring crowd.
He barely caught Molly's exasperated voice.
She's old enough to be your mother.
Stop it. Yet She's not my mother.
You are, Charlie retorted gruffly.
Draco briefly contemplated flinging himself off the stands,
but his attention was back on Jinny, untouchable.
Across the pitch, she broke free from the pack of Chasers and
dodging Bludgers. Come on, Jin, come on, he found
himself murmuring, leaning forward in his seat.
Jinny was swerving left and right.
She was about to be intercepted. Then she fainted, twisted, and
sent the Quaffle hurtling toward the hoop.
It slipped just past Wood's fingertips and sailed cleanly
through. Yes, fuck yes, that's my girl,
that's my fucking girl. Draco was on his feet,
practically standing on his seat, whooping and chanting.
It wasn't until the chairs around him dimmed that he
noticed the entire box was staring at him.
Charlie and George were grinning.
Molly and Arthur looked baffled. Oh well, shite.
He gets that from his father. I certainly did not raise him to
jeer like a barbarian. Narcissa primed, settling back
into her seat and taking a sip of her wine.
Apologies for cursing. He sat back into his seat.
A hand clapped his shoulder, the distinct scent of beer and
popcorn wafting far too close for comfort.
I think everyone's warming to you, mate.
Ron said mid chew. Draco had kept himself in check
for the remainder of the game, jumping up to applaud but
holding back the surge of enthrall each time.
Wood Fumble and Ginny scored, swearing under his breath when
the Puddlemere Chasers got the beat on her.
The competitive spirit in the box added a momentary
disillusion of old differences as the game ended in a
resounding victory for the Harpies.
Arthur and Molly turned to thank him, both bright, seemingly
having forgotten for now the whole moving in situation.
Ron and Hermione disappeared without any goodbye, while
Charlie continued prowling around his mother until George
smacked both hands on his shoulders and physically steered
him out. Draker was not enjoying the way
Narcissa was blushing at Charlie's painfully obvious
advances. As per his usual routine, he
sorted down to the dressing rooms, taking the back entrance
to avoid the swarm of fans waiting for autographs.
Jinny spotted him the second he stepped into the corridor.
Aye. She gleamed, hair still damp
from her post match shower, eyes glittering, her face splattered
with heat from exertion. The adrenaline must still be
thrumming through her veins, because before he could say
anything, she launched herself into his arms.
Draco didn't have time to congratulate her before her lips
were on his. He let himself snog her for all
to see, only distinctly registering the flash of a
camera, no doubt The Prophet's sports reporter.
Jenny pulled back, still hoisted in his arms, breathless but
grinning. Did you see the look on Wood's
face? Listen, I like the bloke, but I
can't say that wasn't satisfying.
Jinny chuckled as she hopped down from his arms.
She gave him a quick once over, eyes scanning his trousers, no
doubt making sure he hadn't ingested anything else from
George. You're in one piece, so I assume
it all went well with my family. Perhaps we never mentioned the
engorged cock to anyone ever again?
Draco suggested. But yes, it went very well.
My mother accidentally let slip about you moving in, so you
might have to have a word with your parents about that.
Also, I'm fairly certain Charlie was flirting with my mother.
Lots to unpack there. But overall everyone seemed to
have a good time. I believe they're finally
starting to recognise me for the charming, handsome man I am, and
one day they'll admit how lucky you are to have me.
Jinny groaned. Gods, I was going to tell them
tomorrow. They didn't seem thrilled, but
in a shocking turn of events, my mother smoothed it over.
Draco admitted, throwing an arm around her as they started
walking out. Jinny snorted.
Should I start packing then? Oh, that's already sorted.
Draco said as soon as Topsy heard you say yes, I believe she
went straight to your flat. Ginny blinked.
Of course she did. So I suppose we should go home
then. Norton Potter invited us to the
leaking, but if you'd rather we could break in our new bed.
That bed has been very broken in.
Ginny teased, one arm draped around his, the other trailing
down his forearm. But perhaps the jacuzzi.
My muscles are very sore, and they could use some loosening.
Her hand slipped down the front of his trousers, fingers tapping
at his zipper. Then let's get you stretched,
love. He wrapped an arm around her
waist, ready to operate, but Jinny tugged at his jersey.
You think you can leave this on? Draco arched a brow.
You want me to get it wet? It'll dry.