Story Title: Stings Like Fire
Summary: Ginny, quite frankly, is tired of her life. Tired of Harry being such an ass nowadays, tired of Hermione acting like she knows everything in the world, and Ron's clumsiness and sureness in all the stupid, irreversible spells and hexes and jinxes he puts on her. Tired of being that good little girl…What happens when revenge takes a twist, and an unexpected person enters her life?
It'd been two hours. TWO HOURS, and yet the school day was already the crappiest fucking school day in history. She had dropped her bagel on the way to the train, tripped and smacked her head on a metal rod, (which left a large welt on her forehead), and had her whole family screaming at her at the top of their lungs. Harry had called her a bratty bitch in public, Ron had magically shrunken her skirt a size too small by accident (it was irreversible), and as soon as they got in the car Hermione was already bitching at her about all the good grades she should get and blahdy fucking blah. 'You should buy more books,' she said. 'You should get those quills checked,' she said. 'You should listen to me because I am smarter and I do everything right.' It came to the point where she was fed up. So after they'd all gone through the wall and had entered Platform 9 ¾, she spun around quickly, finger pointing strictly at her brother's chest, an angry; annoyed look on her face.
"I've had enough of your shit, Ronald Weasley. I don't care what you, or him or even your smart-ass know-it-all of a girlfriend thinks of me. I am me, Ron, and I'm not fucking perfect, and it would do me a whole lot of good if you'd all just shut up and leave me the whole fuck alone!" she screeched, and stomped off. But nearby, hidden by the stone column listening pleasantly to the stricken silence of the Fabulous Three, was a very smug looking Draco Malfoy, who was watching a fuming, hot Ginevra Weasley storm away. 'So she does have a bit of spunk in her. That'll come in handy…' he smirked, and set off to follow the angry, wild redhead who was lounging comfortably amidst a group of Slytherin Girls who were questioning her. They parted immediately at Draco's approach, and their eyes locked. Silver and brown met and created a steely stare.
"Malfoy," she said, voice bold and strong, but soft all the same.
"Weasley," he drawled back to her. The whole world stopped, as the two stared.
"Yeah?" she murmured, standing up and smoothing her tight skirt.
"Care to take a chat?" he spoke coolly, as his eyebrow punctured the skin on his forehead. She looked him up and down, nervousness practically written all over her face. The girls in the group looked at Ginny like she'd been chosen to win a billion galleons, respect flickering in their eyes. She loved that look, and decided she'd do anything to get it.
"Not at all," she replied softly, following Draco's billowing cloaks and soft, semi-long platinum hair. As she glanced over her shoulder, her brother and his tiny posse stood, mouths hanging open, watching the person they used to hate so much with longing and shock at what she was doing…
"Oh, my God," Hermione whispered. Harry's fists clenched at his sides.
"I'm gonna kill him," he muttered, stepping forward. Hermione's hand on his arm stopped him straight, as she swore she saw Ginny's amiable laugh and smile as Draco grinned at a joke he'd cracked at one of the first-years. She followed him willingly up the train steps, down the hallway and out of sight.
"What the hell's she think she's doing, following 'im like that? Has she gone mental?" Ron cried out, fists clenching and unclenching in rage.
"Maybe it's just a phase, or something. Who knows, with the way she's been acting. Maybe she thinks we've been treating her bad, or something," she sighed, dropping her hand from Harry's arm, suddenly feeling bad. "Maybe it's payback, or something. You know how she is."
They stood and watched the train in silence, and out of the early, stillness she heard Ginny's high-pitched, adorable giggle. Harry frowned, making sure Hermione was done with her 'maybes' and started running forward.
"I'm still gonna kill 'im," Harry now muttered again. Hermione smacked the side of his head.
"What?" he growled, throwing his ferocious gaze at her. She shrunk backwards, hands up in surrender.
"Leave her alone for a few, would you? When we board the train, we'll find out what's going on," she murmured. Ron nodded, feeling strangely calm. He figured that maybe it WAS payback. After all, he had hexed her favorite skirt with an irreversible spell that made it too small. But after thinking this for awhile, he wondered if it was Ginny who had lured Draco to her.
She'd changed. Nobody could deny that; nor could any of the Gryffindor boys. Guys broke up with their girlfriends just to scope out the magnificent Ginny Weasley, who wasn't even aware of how beautiful she was. She'd learned to calm her normally frizzy red hair into a calm waterfall of straight red that cascaded down her shoulders. On some brilliant days, though, she would bewitch it and twist it into curls that sparkled lightly, no matter what the weather was. They bounced with a springy happiness that seemed to be internally eternal…
Her hips expanded, and her butt seemed to fill out before their eyes. Her chest inflated, too, and her face grew fuller instead of just this thin little line of skin. Her brown eyes sparkled lightly everywhere she went, happy or sad. And yet she didn't know she was beautiful.
Ron sighed. What was going on with this baby sister of his? Was it finally time for him to let go; let her live her own life? Hermione touched his arm gently.
"Let's get on the train, Ron. Maybe we can find a good compartment," she muttered, still staring at the train. He strained a nod and together the Fabulous Three moved from their rooted spot to the steps, wondering what Ginny was doing.
Kids on the train laughed lightly. Sytherins stood near Draco Malfoy's compartment, in hopes of hearing some of the conversation that blared on inside. All they heard were laughs and snickers, Ginny's high-pitched giggle and Draco's low male rumble. Words couldn't be distinguished, and for that Ginny was glad.
She had followed him down the tiny hallway, taking great care not to step on his trailing cloak. He lead her to the end of the train, his Head Boy cabin door seeming strangely dark before he opened it up. As he lead her inside, she almost laughed.
Along one wall was a tiny trolley of sweets and snacks and drinks, and along another was a bed-looking couch thing, silk sheets tucked into the wall and mattress, small white throw pillows toward the armrests. Floor to ceiling windows showed a great view of the other side of the train station. She smiled, but frowned.
"They're bewitched," he said, quietly, answering her silent question. "So I can see things and people, but things and people can't see me," he smirked.
"I don't want to know," she rolled her eyes, but followed his lead as he sat down on the couch-bed thing.
He tried hard not to pay attention as her short skirt rode up a little bit. He gulped quietly, swallowing the block that was growing there. He cleared his throat instead, hoping to break it up and swallow it instead, but it stayed there. His eyes traveled from her silent, window-searching eyes, to her nose, to her luscious lips; to her neck, to her collarbone, to her breasts. He swallowed hard again, and followed her gaze in hopes to prevent the growing of the block and the uneasiness in his pants. She cleared her throat.
"So," she started off.
"So," he repeated, mocking her.
"What's up?" she asked, rolling her eyes again. Oh, how she rolled her eyes…snap out of it, Drake.
"Nothing much. Just wanted to chat with you. So, what happened out there?" he asked, curious. She turned to him with a quizzical look.
"Out where? About what?"
"Out on the platform, to your brother and them about them not respecting you, or something," he explained.
"Oh," she said, realization dawning on her. "I'm just fed up, I guess. Tired of their shit."
He nodded. Was it just her, or was he scooting closer?
"Well, I've changed up, you see. But I'm still a Slytherin."
"Yeah…so…" she trailed off, voice quaking, as she fumbled her hands in her lap. He stared at the floor.
"Well…if you want…we could get back at him."
Her head shot up, with a new happiness.
"Get back at my brother? And all his stupid little friends?"
Draco's smirk reappeared.
"Yeah, I guess. But we have to become friends, in order for this all to work. And we have to get used to each other being…erm…close," he said, scooting close again.
She swallowed, and looked over at him.
"Alright," she murmured, scooting closer still. Her heart pounded. What the hell was she doing?
He sighed.
"You don't believe me, do you," he asked quietly, shaking his head in an adorable way to flick the stray platinum hair out of his eyes. The smoldering silver-blue bit at her mind. Her mouth fell open slightly, lost in the place she wanted to claim.
"Ginny?" he murmured, looking up to meet her clouded gaze.
Was that her name?
She quickly shook from her reverie with a mental slap and focused on his eyes once more.
"I believe you. If you say you've changed, then you've changed; I guess," she almost whispered, and noticed that his face was so close.
He stared back at her. Her coffee colored eyes reflected her thoughts and her lovely smile, sparkling gently in the cloudy light from the window. Small tendrils of her hair had dropped from her red headband, and he had an urge to take it in his pale hands and twist it around his finger. His lips parted slightly as he glanced at her own; the beautiful pink softness that almost begged him to touch. He breathed slowly.
There was silence. His minty breath caressed her lip ever so slightly, the ice-cold warmth sending a slight jolt up her spine. But she was hardly ready or aware when ever so slowly, Draco's mouth followed hers and their lips were almost touching. She closed her eyes, waiting what would happen.
From the door window three silent heads were staring wide-eyed into Draco's compartment. Hermione could barely contain her anger and wild shock until Ron spun around quickly, hand slamming into the wall, and gave a loud cry of, "Bloody hell!"
Harry's face was glued to the window. His eyes were large in his glasses and his hands were plastered to the door, one reaching for the handle until Hermione reached out and snatched it up in her own.
"No, Harry. Don't," she said, shock still visible on her own pale face.
"Don't you 'don't' me, Hermione. What she's doing isn't right and you bloody fucking know it," he growled, ripping his hand away, reaching again for the door handle. But Hermione had learned to be persistent. As he was about to touch the shiny gold, she smacked his hand and kicked him in the shin.
"I said don't," she grunted in reply, as he fell over onto the black carpeting, clutching his lower leg.
"Have you gone mental? What the hell did you do that for?!" he cried out, pain written on his cringing face.
"Now I know what she means. We all bother her far too much and boss her around like she's a house elf. And with you calling her a bratty bitch, I wouldn't go in there and rain on her parade, if I were you," she growled, her eyes narrowing. Harry's face fell slack, still rubbing his shin.
"Yeah, well…you didn't have to kick me, you know," he muttered, and with help stood up and leaned on the wall. Hermione spun around, completely forgetting about her ecstatic boyfriend.
"Ron?" she murmured, approaching him slowly, from where he was sitting in the middle of the hallway, mouth moving but no words coming out.
"Ron? Are you ok?"
He muttered something quietly.
"What was that? I can't hear you," she replied softly, kneeling down beside him, a hand on his shoulder as she studied his anger-contorted face.
"I said 'she's a stupid, bloody fucking two-faced bitch of a sister to do that to us'," he practically yelled. Hermione stood up.
"Her choices are her choices, Ronald. She'll do as she damn well pleases," she muttered, turning around and stalking away from the two.
As she walked away, the same song floated through Hermione's sighing head and a bliss-filled 6th year.
I am, vindicated
I am selfish, I am wrong
I am right; I swear I'm rightI swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now
The things you swore you saw yourself…
Was she floating? She was falling. She bloody swore she was falling but yet she felt sky-high all the same. What was this sensation? She'd never felt it before, yet she wanted it to end and continue forever at the same time. Draco's soft lips, his tongue that was softly touching hers in a wild dance, his hair that felt soft to her aching fingertips, his icy-hot hands that were touching her back so softly she thought she would die. Yet her eyes were closed as her thin hands caressed his face, her thumbs running over his closed eyelids gently. Yet she didn't know what she was doing when she pulled away.
"Friends," she heard herself whisper. Friends? He gave her a puzzled, astonished look.
"Friends?" he murmured, surprised, eyes full of hurt. "Friends?" he repeated.
"Good friends," she confirmed. What the hell was she doing?
"Good friends," he repeated again. His eyes cast down to the floor.
She was quiet.
"So, we're…friends, I guess," he stated.
"Yes. Friends, Drake," she breathed out, touching her lips with her fingertips. "It has to be this way. I don't know you all that well, and I'm not the casual sex type of person. Infact, I'm not the sex type of person at all," she murmured, half laughing. Oh, he thought, she's a virgin. He sighed.
"I never said you were," he muttered. "I just..." he trailed off, thinking. "I just didn't think you'd let me kiss you, and then pull away and say we should be friends."
She studied his face, hand strangely resting on his shoulder. His eyes shone dully with a gloomy glow, as he studied his hands. Oh, she thought, he's probably not used to rejection. She sighed, and dropped her hand so it rested on his leg.
"I'm such a bloody idiot," she muttered to herself. He lifted his head in hopes of hearing she'd changed her mind.
"Pardon?" he perked up, eyes sharp with hope.
"Nothing," she murmured. Outside, the train shrieked and came to a slow, steady stop.
They sat in silence until the train was completely stopped. Draco stood up first, and put out his hand. "I'll share a carriage with you, if you'd like," he approached quietly. She looked up at him for a moment, weighing her options. She could take one alone, or she could share one with Draco. She chose the latter and gripped his hand softly with hers.
"I'd like that," she smiled amiably. They walked down the hallway, hand in hand for some odd reason, passing the Fabulous Three on the way down the steps. Hermione merely nodded, while Harry and Ron struggled to get loose of Hermione's shoulder grip to punch the living hell out of him.
Todah! And BTW...Disclaimer: I do not own any of Harry Potter; the characters or the names or anything that J.K. and Warner Brother's have created and presented to the public. I only own the plot, and I also do not own The song 'Vindicated' which was created by Dashboard Confessional and I do not wish to collect any of the credit. Thank you.