Disclaimer: characters and situations in this story belong to J. K. Rowling and publishers; no copyright infringement is intended.
Blood and Sex
If men want women for sex, then for what do women want men?
The answer is obvious, of course: the same.
Draco Malfoy had been brought up to distrust. It served him well, during his school years and beyond.
He distrusted his family. It was one of the first lessons that he had been taught: not even those who had raised him could be trusted.
He distrusted his friends. Rarely did he let on his true secrets, or reveal his true face. Very few among his friends knew that he had disdained Voldemort, or that he had received 10 O.W.Ls, or even that his favourite colour was indigo.
He distrusted his enemies for more obvious reasons.
But, if he distrusted his friends, it was nothing to what he felt for women. To him, women were items to be used, cherished, kept ignorant, and ultimately discarded when they lost their freshness or became too nosy.
So, when pretty, redheaded Ginny Weasley showed up at his door one day and, ignoring his questions ('what do you think you're doing? How did you manage to get past my guard trolls?'), proceeded to shag his brains out--metaphorically, of course--it was only natural that Draco Malfoy would be suspicious.
But she deftly avoided his questions, and, after a few tries, he gave up; there was more than ample distraction. What little small talk that they made thereafter was entirely impersonal--conversations about anything from current wizarding politics, to the weather, and even to the Wimbourne Wasps' humiliating defeat at the hands of the Chudley Cannons last Saturday.
Somewhere in between ordering the house-elves to bring up caviar and musing on the (questionable) merits of Jennifer Ehle, Draco Malfoy found his eyelids growing very heavy, and they soon closed altogether. Well, he thought before succumbing to his sleep, at least I've found a good substitute for a sleeping drought.
When next he woke, the silken sheets beside him were cool in the faint light of dawn, and the chamber was completely devoid of any sign that she had been there, save a faint scent of sandalwood and frankincense perfume that disappeared when he shifted.
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