Ginny Weasley was losing it.

She was bloody stir-crazy, out-of-her-mind, need-a-cigarette, tapping-her-feet-against-the-library-floor, certifiably insane.

In short, she was going mad, and of course the fact that the rain was prohibiting her from flying over the Quidditch pitch didn't help much. When things bothered her, being on a broomstick was the only thing that helped her to clear her mind, and at present, a good, old-fashioned head-clearing would have done her a world of wonders.

There was a bolt of lightning and a loud crack of thunder that resonated through the castle. Ginny's frantic foot-tapping only continued, to the point that Madame Pince had begun glaring at her because of the incessantly noise.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

"Miss Weasley," said the librarian, who was now standing before Ginny's table, "if you can't control yourself, I'll have to ask you to leave."

As the vulture-faced librarian turned around, Ginny mocked her as she kicked off her shoes. The old bat wouldn't hear her socks tapping against the floor, would she? She'd bloody well better not, Ginny decided.

And thus, Ginny remained in the library, still going mad as she attempted - and failed - to write her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay that was due the next morning.

"Well, well. Aren't we the studious little bookworm?"

With a roll of her eyes, Ginny turned around to see who had come to disturb her from her not-so-peaceful essay writing.

Of course it's Malfoy, she thought with a roll of her eyes. It's always bloody Malfoy.

She cleared her throat and smiled. "What can I do for you?" she asked sarcastically, her faux smile and sickeningly saccharine-sounding voice making her own teeth hurt.

Draco pulled out the chair beside her. "Maybe I just missed you, is all. Do I really need a reason to talk to you?"

"Yes, you need a reason!" she exclaimed, abandoning her niceties and allowing herself to become far more excited over his attempt at annoyance than she really should have. He was just trying to get a rise out of her, after all, and she always somehow managed to rise to his bait. "So, if you don't mind, tell me what you want before I hex your brains into bats!"

"There will be no brain-hexing in my library, Miss Weasley!" Madame Pince scolded them from across the library.

Draco smirked in satisfaction as Ginny seethed. "You're awfully tense, love."

"I am not!"

"Oh really?" he purred, standing behind her as his large hands began massaging her stiffened neck and shoulders. "Because you rather feel that way to me."

She couldn't very well tell him that he was wrong - he could obviously feel the straining in her muscles - but that didn't mean she was going to let him be right, either. "Well, you'd be tense, too, if your least favorite person in the world had their ferret-y hands all over you," she spat.

But Draco just laughed as his hands began to travel over her arms, rubbing the knots from her bicep. "I'm sure there is some way for me to please you." She could feel as he worked his way inward, fingertips lightly brushing against the curve of her breasts.

Ginny gasped loudly. "Don't you dare!" she cried as she got to her feet, reflexively pulling her wand from her sleeve and rounding on him.

"You two!" Madame Pince all but shouted. "Out of my library! Now! Out!"

Ginny slammed her book shut and slung her bag over her shoulders before storming out of the library, shoes forgotten beneath the table. Draco was following closely behind her, and before he even had the opportunity to speak, she smacked him hard on the jaw.

"What in the hell did you think you were doing?" she cried. "What do you even want from me?"

He lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Who says I want anything from you at all?" he asked all-too innocently.

"Well you certainly spend a lot of time bothering me for someone who wants nothing!"

"Bothering you?" he responded slowly and with amusement. "All I did was say hello to you and offer you a stress-relieving massage. But you, love, were plenty bothered before I ever said a word to you."

She sighed. He was right, of course, and that only served to make her angrier.

With a smirk, Draco leaned casually against the stone wall of the corridor. "So, tell me what's on your mind then."

Ginny scoffed. "Like you care."

"'Course I do."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Because despite what you obviously think of me, I don't actually hate you at all. I find you amusing." He paused, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully. "You obviously know how to defend yourself, and I have never seen you back down from an argument when you know you're right. I... I guess I like that about you."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, smirking playfully. "Can I have that in writing? And have it notarized, if you don't mind."

He rolled his eyes. "So what pissed you off today then?"

"My brother," she answered, crossing her arms in a huff. "What else?"

"Right," he said, taking a step closer as he cleared his throat. In a clear Ginny impression he said, "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of standing up for myself and I don't need Harry to rescue me! And it's not my fault that the bloody Hufflepuffs look like a bunch of deranged bumblebees in their Quidditch robes!"

She gasped as she smacked him on the arm. "You arse! You already knew why I was angry!"

Draco rubbed where Ginny had hit him. "Your screeching is hard to miss, love," he said, "and this little hitting thing needs to stop if we're going to be friends."

Ginny stepped closer, still smiling. "My fighting does get pretty intense, doesn't it?"

"I have faith that one day that nails-on-a-chalkboard voice of yours will actually break a window."

"I'm pretty sure that can't happen."

"Maybe it'll be your rage then. Ickle Ginny probably still can't control her magic."

"Well maybe you should just shut up and kiss me, Malfoy."

"I might just do that."

With a nibble of her lip and a tug on his green and silver Slytherin tie, Ginny pulled Draco up against her and pressed her lips to his.

Broomsticks and thunderstorms be damned

Now Ginny had a new method of stress relief.