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Prompt: 015. Bored


Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were snogging. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were snogging. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were snogging!

Ginny's mind was stuck on that single sentence, repeating in overdrive, a massive loop of gorgeous, sweaty men and their no shirts and wet tongues that just wouldn't stop grappling with each other. Right in front of her, to boot! She knew she was staring, and she knew that she probably shouldn't have blasted this door open (okay, so she hadn't blasted it, but she had used a less-than-acceptable Dark form of Alohamora to get the door open, so she might as well have just Deprimo'd it), but she couldn't stop.

They were right in front of her, pressed together in the muggy room, with no regard for anyone else (well, they had locked and warded the whole bloody room, so she couldn't blame them for not realizing that there was someone else now exposed to their sexiness), sweat in gleaming droplets across their skin…Ginny was salivating. It was warmer in this room, yes, but they must have just stopped working out, or playing Quidditch, or having sex—

Ginny stopped her mind right there. It's the second option, she scolded herself, eyes lighting upon Malfoy's Quidditch pads with relief. Because if they had been having sex, well…she wasn't quite sure her mind would have been able to take that overload.

Why oh why did she have to insist on becoming not bored? Couldn't she have just stayed in her room, a social pariah, instead of attempting to hunt for Luna and stumbling across a locked and warded room and then stubbornly forcing it open out of curiosity? If only she'd just accepted being bored…

It was Sunday afternoon, the third of the year. Most of the students were outside, lazing around and generally doing nothing, since it was still much too early in the year for any kind of serious homework to be assigned. But despite the fact that most students were taking advantage of this rare day in which they didn't have anything to do, one wasn't.

And being bored wasn't exactly well suited towards a Weasley, particularly not one practically raised by brothers. Specifically, not one raised by one rule-breaking curse breaker, one outdoorsy dragon keeper, two troublemaking twins, and one thick headed sidekick with a serious case of hero worship.

Okay, that last one was a bit harsh, Ginny admitted to herself. Even if it was true. She had managed to remove the window in her dorm (a simple Evanesco had done the trick, but it was the counter spell that would allow her to retrieve the window that would be a bit more difficult to manage) and was currently splayed out on the sun-warmed stones, half in her dorm and half out of it.

Below, the distant sounds of students fooling around on the grounds were filtering up to her, but only parts made it up to her all the way. The ones that she heard only made her more angry, since it further rubbed it in that on the third Sunday of the year, one of the only ones where she'd likely have free time, Ginny Weasley didn't have anything to do. Anything to do, anyone to hang out with…she was a social leper! Sitting around on a window ledge, barely even dressed yet…

"I should go find Luna," she muttered to herself, sighing resignedly. She felt that lately, she was going more and more to Luna as a last resort, since the Trio had recently been MIA. She figured that it was high time to face the fact that she was a little too dependent on their good nature and willingness to allow her to tag along like the unwanted fourth wheel. After all, they were called the Golden Trio, not the Golden Quartet. It just didn't have the same ring.

"I'm going to find Luna," Ginny announced firmly, throwing herself upwards and back into the room, deciding to forego replacing the window in favor of just letting someone else attempt to. Eventually, they'd just give up and go get Hermione to do it anyway, and Ginny was feeling slightly resentful to the bushy headed seventh year, so any extra work for Hermione made her feel just the tiniest bit better.

She slid out of her shorts on the way to her trunk and pulled out a pair of yesterday's jeans from her trunk and put them on. No use wasting some perfectly nice clean pants when these ones weren't even that dirty anyway. She decided to forego changing shirts; her tank top was only marginally ratty, and it wasn't that much of a fashion faux pas for her scarlet bra straps to be visible.

She pulled her hair back in a messy bun to get the sweaty strands off of her neck, and slipped on some flip flops before tucking her wand in her hair and leaving her dorm. Really, it was almost unnaturally hot for the middle of September. Wasn't September supposed to be full of chilly breezes and changing leaves? Certainly not sweltering heats and no breezes to even be heard of. Just another one of the grievances that Ginny added to her list that made this Sunday a Perfectly Horrid Day.

She didn't encounter anybody as she made her way down the stairs, and there was no one in the Common Room, either. Great, she thought to herself. Means that even Neville managed to find himself something to do on this gods-awful day.

That was certainly a depressing thought.

Outside of Gryffindor Tower, Ginny decided to wait and make a plan of action before she started crawling all over the school looking for Luna. On a day like this, she would be in the least likely place that everyone else would be. Meaning she'd probably be inside while everyone else was outside. On the plus side, that eliminated everything on the outside, including the pitch and the lake. On the down side, that left everything else inside.

Including the whole bloody castle.

Let's start with the library, Ginny thought decisively, knowing that Luna probably wouldn't be in the library, like any other near-sane person. But she needed somewhere to start anyway, so it might as well be the library.

It wasn't a long trek to the library, but it was a silent one. Could all of Hogwarts really be outside? She hadn't really thought that everyone was, but apparently she had been wrong. That was another depressing thought.

Really, if I keep this up, I'm going to be depressingly thinking myself into an early suicide. Ginny paused for a second, smiling to herself at the thought. As opposed to a late one…Since she really didn't have much to think about, Ginny decided to humor herself and continue on this line of thought. Could one really be late to their own suicide? Potentially, it's possible, especially if they had set their own time of death, like midnight or something equally macabre like that.

Honestly, if she was going to commit suicide, she'd do it at a completely unorthodox and unexpected time. Like two in the afternoon, or maybe half past ten in the morning. They'd really scratch their heads if she committed suicide then. But midnight? She'd immediately be written off as a poor, attention-deprived sap. Which wouldn't do at all, even if it was embarrassingly accurate.

Gods, I need a life, she thought despairingly, realizing just how pathetic she'd allowed herself to become. Depending on the Trio for company, and when they fail, falling back on Loony Lovegood. Not that Luna was bad company, per se, but if she just simply didn't have any normal friends…it was just downright sad.

Stepping into the library, Ginny quickly deduced that luckily, there were more unfortunate souls than she. A couple of students were diligently working on their homework, and she shuddered in sympathy for them. Sure, she could have been doing homework and getting ahead in her classes, but really, who would? Even Hermione had managed to find time to not do homework.

Granted, that probably was because she had finished it all yesterday, but still. There were a few students slouched over their books on the desks scattered across the library, sitting in sunbeams that were swirling with dust. None of them had a head full of scraggly white-blonde hair, so Ginny figured that Luna wasn't one of the poor schmucks stuck in the library doing homework.

She left the library, choosing to not search the rows of dusty books for the sake of her nonexistent allergies. Luna probably wasn't back there, anyway. Idly heading down a hallway full of abandoned classrooms on her left and open windows on her right, Ginny glanced inside each open door she passed, finding more dust and piles of unused chairs and desks. Each door was open, which she didn't bother finding unusual at all.

She sighed miserably, eyes looking outside at the picturesque view. Hell, she could even see some people zooming around on brooms! What she wouldn't give for a pick up game of Quidditch…

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny caught sight of a closed door. This made her hesitate. All the other doors had been open, baring their empty contents. But now, this one was closed? She glanced further down the hall to confirm that none of the other doors were closed; this was the only one. Curious.

She put a cautious hand on the handle, and twisted experimentally. Nothing. Twisting, she pushed on it lightly, but it didn't budge. Beginning to frown slightly, she twisted it the other direction and gave it a harder nudge with her shoulder. When this didn't offer up any satisfactory results, she quickly lost patience and rammed the thing with her shoulder.

All this earned her was a sore shoulder and only served to piss her off more. She gave the door a sound kick, but all this did was give her sore toes. Great time to forget about wearing flip flops, she thought bitterly, rubbing her toes. Once she had sufficiently reduced the pain in her toes to a dull pounding, Ginny stood back up fully, withdrawing her wand and casting Alohamora on the stubborn chunk of wood.

She didn't even hear a click, and with a sinking heart she tried the door again, this time taking care not to kick it. No luck.

Examining the door with more interest, Ginny decided that this was no ordinary locking charm. Well, no shit, Sherlock! she reminded herself. She tossed a few spells at the door for shits and giggles, mostly, and none of them even budged the pitted wood. This had her eyebrows crawling up her face; Reducto didn't even leave a scratch, and she progressed steadily upwards into stronger curses such as Expulso, Confringo, and Deprimo, in addition to a few other spells that Ginny didn't have any business knowing.

Luckily, whoever had warded the door seven ways to hell hadn't made it so any spells cast at it bounced off, and instead absorbed them. Otherwise she would have been in a world of hurt, not to mention serious trouble for destroying half the corridor. Unluckily, though, the door still wasn't open.

Frowning thoughtfully at it, Ginny tapped her lip with her finger while she twirled her wand with her other hand, ignoring the angry red and green sparks that flew off its end. What kind of spell could withstand the barrage she had just sent at it? It certainly wasn't anything taught here at Hogwarts, and she doubted she would even find it in the Restricted Section, if she was pressed to look. No, it was definitely Dark—which eliminated the possibility of it being cast by anyone in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.

There were a few students in Ravenclaw she could see casting it, but not many. Only some seventh years that came from pure, Dark families would even have access to such a spell, and even then, if they were in Ravenclaw, they most likely didn't use it. No, whoever had warded this room was probably a Slytherin. But Ginny was beyond caring at this point. She couldn't get into the room with normal spells, and that meant she had to get creative.

Ginny liked getting creative.

Going through a mental catalogue of Dark spells that might open the door, she idly cast each one as she came to it, scrutinizing the door for any sign that the spell had worked and dismissing it quickly when she tested the door and found it locked. She was running out of spells to do, so out of boredom she paused for a few moments to twist the last two, two of the Darker unlocking and destroying spells she knew, together to form one spell.

It was delicate work, and required most of her concentration, but when she was done she was pretty sure that this new hybrid form of Alohamora would open the door. Giving it a test, she heard the click of the lock even before the light of the spell had faded, and she grinned triumphantly, pushing the door open.

And then freezing, and staring in shock. And now she was right back at square one.

Really, it should be illegal to look so sinful, Ginny thought to herself, watching as Zabini dug a dark golden hand in Malfoy's sweat dampened locks. Her gaze zeroed in on the way his blond curls seemed to embrace the Italian boy's glistening palm, and she felt her breath catch in her throat briefly, before it picked right back up at that crazy, erratic pace it had adopted upon seeing the two of them entwined.

Zabini's own hair was twisted into a small braid, about double the length of Malfoy's shoulder length hair. It was loose, however, mostly due to the fact that Malfoy had embedded a hand into the strands and wriggled it free from its tight weave. Zabini's lips parted in a strangled half-gasp when Malfoy jerked his head to the side with the leverage he had in Zabini's hair, trailing delicious-looking lips down a glimmering neck.

This drew Ginny's eyes to their naked torsos, so smooth and muscled and sweaty that she was sure her retinas were seared with the image. The sight of them burned away any coherent thought until the only thing that was flying through her head was what they were doing to each other, what they could have done to each other, what they probably would do to each other, and what they could do to her.

This last thought stopped her in her daydreaming so abruptly that she let out a small noise, one that was immediately noticed by Malfoy and Zabini. Of course, instead of immediately springing apart or opening their eyes to see who it was, only Zabini opened his eyes. Even then, they remained hooded, at half mast. Malfoy continued to lave the expanse of skin in front of him.

"Enjoying the show?" Zabini questioned smoothly, sounding surprisingly cavalier about the whole thing. If she closed her eyes, she could simply imagine that he was asking her that in his haughty, cool voice in the Great Hall, rather than an abandoned classroom while his boyfriend made out with his chest.

Well, boyfriend might have been stretching it. They could be friends with benefits for all she knew.

"Actually, I was," Ginny found herself admitting honestly, and fought the knee-jerk reaction to blush, as she usually did when she opened her mouth before thinking and blurted out embarrassingly true things.

The sound of her voice was enough for Malfoy to emerge from his worshipping of Zabini's skin, and he leaned back, eyes opening lazily to meet Ginny's.

"Weaselette," he said, sounding surprised. "This is…unexpected." Ginny felt an eyebrow arching up her face in incredulous shock. Were they serious?

"To say the least," she said dryly, crossing her arms defensively. Now that she was in here, she really didn't know what to do; of all people, she hadn't really expected them to be in here, and she hadn't thought of a plan past getting open that damned door. Really, all she had wanted to do was get past that ward, and once she had done that, she had fancied the idea of wondering who had actually cast it.

But now she knew who cast it, and she was still in the room with them. Uh oh. Staying in here now just seemed to be inviting disaster.

"How did you get in?" Malfoy asked, eyes narrowing as he realized that she probably shouldn't be standing there in the first place. Ginny shrugged nonchalantly.

"I opened the door," she replied coolly, hoping they would drop it. "Now, it seems like I've got the wrong door, so I'll just be leaving—"

Before she could make her escape, they uncurled themselves from each other and stalked towards her. Dimly, Ginny heard the door slam shut behind her, and she realized that she was screwed. Hand tightening on her wand, she unfolded her arms, sinking into a lower stance and attempting to keep her eyes on both of them.

They exchanged amused glances with each other.

"I think not, Weasley. Do you want to know what grade that spell was on the door?" Zabini asked, giving her a smug grin. He must have cast the spell, she thought. Zabini was smiling to himself now, as Malfoy stared at her unflinchingly, eyes narrowed slightly as he folded his arms on his lean chest. She tried not to notice how enticing his forearms looked crossed on his defined muscles, and dragged her eyes to Zabini's amused chocolately ones that no doubt noticed everything.

"Not particularly," she answered when she finally realized that he had been expecting one.

"Grade A, but the Ministry only lumps it there as a formality," he informed her casually, as if performing what was considered to be an Unforgiveable without the repercussions was commonplace to him. Hell, it probably was.

"Really now? Well, congratulations. I'll leave you two to what you were busy with before—"

"Weasley, there are no known spells that would have been able to get that door open," Malfoy interrupted, snapping angrily. Ginny blinked in shock; she hadn't really just cracked an uncrackable ward, had she?

"Impossible," she said, shaking her head to prove them wrong. Unconsciously, she relaxed her stance, realizing that they weren't going to actively attack her. "You must have used a lesser ward, because I shouldn't have been able to get into this room, then," she told them, frowning at the implications of this.

They took advantage of the situation, and she squeaked when she realized they had moved. Malfoy was on her left and Zabini was on her right, and her wand disappeared somewhere in his braid of hair while she was pressed between the two of them, breath gone in a whoosh.

"Little Weasleys shouldn't be able to break dangerous wards," Zabini cooed somewhere near her ear, and she swallowed, eyes pressed closed. Both of their warm, sweaty bodies were touching her front and her back; they must have turned her so they could both effectively trap her. Not that she was complaining…

Wait! she protested mentally. I am protesting! This isn't good! This is bad, Ginny, and not the good kind of bad, either!

When someone tightened their grip on her wrists, an unspoken sign for her to spill the beans, she felt the panic rise in a wave and she opened her mouth, the words spilling forth like some kind of vomit.

"I was just bored, with nothing to do on a bloody blistering Sunday afternoon, so I wanted to find the Trio before I realized I was pathetic for doing so, and then I tried to find Luna, but I couldn't find the fucker anywhere, and walking back from the library I found this door closed amongst all these other open doors to abandoned classrooms and I couldn't get the bloody door open so I kicked it and I stubbed my toe and the stupid—"

Ginny's eyes launched open when her tirade was silenced by a deliciously smooth pair of lips. Grey eyes. Angry grey eyes, with sweaty curls pressing to his forehead. Malfoy.

As soon as it started, it was over, and he leaned back, still scowling at her.

"Weasley cooties," he sneered in disgust. Instantly, her shock was replaced with anger, and before she could snap back at him, Zabini leaned around from her back.

"Let me taste," he asked, and Malfoy tilted forward to comply.

For the third time in as many minutes, Ginny felt her mouth drop open. Here she was, stuck between Malfoy and Zabini, and they were snogging. Snogging! With her in the middle!

And snogging because of her "Weasley cooties," as Malfoy so aptly named them? What was the world coming to?

Zabini pulled back soon enough, however, leaving Malfoy licking his lips with drooping eyes. Ginny felt her stomach do a back flip at the picture he presented, and resisted the urge to rise up on her toes and press her lips to his again, curious to see if he would pull back again or if he'd just continue to absorb more cooties from her.

Luckily, she was prevented from acting on her lapse of sanity by Zabini. As wonderful as he felt behind her, she couldn't help but be grateful that she couldn't see him, too, otherwise she'd be having insane fantasies about him in addition to Malfoy.

"You taste good, Weasley, which is why I'm willing to let you go if you tell us how you got past the spell," he told her, in a voice that sounded amused and businesslike and satisfied all at once. She swallowed once, closing her eyes to distract herself from the all-too-appealing view of Malfoy, and decided that she couldn't lose anything by answering.

"A hybrid spell of the Dark version of Alohamora and the Cracking Curse. I've fiddled with spells and combining them before, so I spent a few minutes whipping them together outside the door." She opened her eyes to find Malfoy looking at her like she had just grown a third head.

"Like I said, I was bored," she defended with a glare. Malfoy's eyes drifted from hers and upwards to something past the top of her head, and she presumed the he was having a silent conversation with Zabini. She wriggled around a bit, tired of being stuck, but couldn't get anywhere.

Just when she was about to yell at them, they stepped away simultaneously, making her nearly stumble to catch her balance. She turned around to scowl at Zabini, who was offering her back her wand he had retrieved from his hair.

"You can go, then," he told her cheerfully, waving a hand at the open door. She gaped at him. After all that, they were just going to let her waltz away? At the very least, she had expected an Obliviate, not a simple pat on the head as he opened the door for her!

"What the hell—" she began heatedly, before he stepped forward and pushed her out the door with an insistent hand on her lower back that practically burned her skin.

"It's been lovely, dear, truly, but we've got things to do. People to shag, and all that. So, out you go. But remember, next time you decide to experiment a bit, you know where to find us." And with a winning smile, he slammed the door in her face.

Ginny blinked, and then blinked again. Had that just happened…? She rubbed her eyes tiredly. It's the heat, she decided. It's making me go insane. Walking back towards the Tower, she wondered if it really had happened. If so, then, wow, she must not have been the only one who was bored. Not to mention insane! But if it hadn't…

She shook her head firmly. No, it's best to just pretend I never had gotten bored. I think I'll go back to the Tower and get ahead on homework or something. No need to ever remember that I…encountered Malfoy and Zabini in an empty classroom.

Her mind buzzed with questions, but she pushed them aside. No, it was safer for her sanity to pretend it hadn't happened.


"I bet together, we could make all sorts of wonderful spells," Blaise purred in Draco's ear, biting down on the lobe as Draco groaned. "Just imagine what kind of Dark magic we could make. Or not Dark…" he trailed off, nibbling his way down Draco's mouth, judging where to place his next kiss by Draco's reaction.

"Or what, then?" Draco finally growled angrily, inciting a hidden smirk from Blaise.

"Or Grey. Fantastic, mind-blowing Grey magic. Our Dark combined with her Light…" Malfoy groaned again, dragging Blaise's lips up to his to ravish them furiously.

"You're such a fucking tease," he snapped into Blaise's lips, to which the darker boy laughed lowly.

"You can bet that together, we could find something to do so she wouldn't be bored again," he suggested to Draco. Draco nearly snarled at him, and decided to forego all pretences and dropped his hand on his lover's rather telling reaction.

There wasn't much left to be said after that.


A/N: Thanks to Melissa for the awesome beta! So, this is going to be a little different than my other things. I've been meaning to pick up one of those prompt tables I always see on livejournal, and I finally got around to it (this one has 100, though no guarantees on how regular I write them). Rather than settle in a particular universe, I decided to go for moments in the life of DGB--any moment, any time, any situation. They probably won't be connected unless I decide to continue a certain prompt by following up with another prompt. But as you can see, they can be before DGB get together as a couple (this one), during, or after (le gasp! As if THEY'D ever break apart!), but it really just depends on how I interpret the prompt.

Speaking of prompt, how do you think I dealt with this one? Betcha you guys liked a sweaty Draco and Blaise. :D

Roma