This is my first Potter fic... My writing, I think at least, has improved a bit... I hope! I really hope you all enjoy this! Reviews are awesome!

For the record, in the first chapter only (unless further notice is posted) my dear friend Cat helped me out TONS with the roll of Ginny. Hats off to her!

Much Love From Texas!

~Ash

The wind was cruel and brutal. It whipped around her, unyielding, plowing through, oblivious to her in its course. She was just another pawn, a mere obstacle, in its inevitable trail.

She shivered violently as she made her way back from the horrendous Gryffindor practice. Not that the team had done poorly, it was the merciless wind. Twice, it had knocked the quaffle from a chaser's hands, and Ginny could barely see the golden snitch through the hindering fog, as it floated mere inches from her fingertips.

She opened the door, leading into the Hogwarts halls, allowing the radiating warmth to devour her whole-heartedly. She smiled, grateful for her thawing bones as a slight chill ran through her spine and back up again, causing her to shudder softly. She pulled a hand from her pocket to gently brush a strand of her vibrant red, distinguishable Weasley hair from her cheek, which were slowly returning to their natural color. She had been able to feel her nose, tips of her ears, and her cheeks turning a rosy shade in the fierce wind, but now they were once again her soft, marble pale.

She soon came up behind a malicious and plotting Peeves, as he appeared to be looming above a girl, preparing to topple a bottle of ink onto her silky curls. Ginny gasped in disbelief as she whipped her wand out, prepared to stop the ink in mid-air before it made contact with the girls luscious locks, then Ginny quickly caught a glimpse of the girls sporting colors. Realizing she was Slytherin, and a rather ruthless and crude one at that, she simply leaned against the stony walls, crossing her arms over her chest, as she watched the ink trickle down the girls cheeks, seeping into her tresses. Ginny turned before she was spotted hearing Peeve's cackle and the girls rant in anger, Ginny started snickering to herself as she rounded the next corner.

And as she did so, she spotted her deep, chocolate brown eyes on a most detested character. She shuddered at the thought of the rude comments he could make towards her. She puffed her softly blooming chest out, she was now nearing sixteen, trying to be brave, like a Gryffindor, or more importantly, a true Weasley. She harshly bit the inside of her mouth as she braced her self for his brash comment, as she strolled past him, just waiting for inevitable slander to be throw her way from his cunning and malicious Malfoy mouth.

* * *

Had Draco been... well, quite frankly, not Draco, he probably would've said something to Peeves about the ink-spilling incident. The girl was, after all, a member of his house, and house members were supposed to stick together! Which was, of course, why he had merely rolled his eyes at the girl's shrieks and Peeves' cackling. Why should he feel the need to live up to everyone's expectations? Yes, he did do such for his father, or rather tried to, but that most certainly didn't mean he was going out of his way for McGonagall and those bunch of loons.

The cackling was something constantly heard throughout Hogwarts' halls, and because of such he'd learned to hate the stupid poltergeist for all he was worth. It was like those stupid Weasel twins thrown into one floating sheet that you couldn't stop and could float through walls, floors, and ceilings alike, making him impossible to escape. Creepy.

Yet, another cackle was heard from down the hall. Someone else was coming. Someone else had seen. ... So he wasn't the only one to laugh in the face of morals. Well, he would simply have to see who else dared to do such a thing... perhaps even talk to them... perhaps. A Slytherin wouldn't be so bad to talk to and he supposed the only other house that would even bother to laugh at a Snake was a Ravenclaw... Hmm... They at least provided intelligent conversation. It would do.

However, it wasn't a Snake. Nor was it a Raven. It was a blood lion who rounded the corner, much to Draco's displeasure. At second glance he realized she wasn't just any old lion, but Little Miss Weasel herself. Oh how lovely. The ridiculous thing had her chest puffed out like some sort of demented bird during mating season, which only led him to believe she was doing just that, attempting to ensnare a mate. How utterly stupid, yet... amusing. The Slytherin couldn't help himself.

"Shoving them forward won't make them grow any, Weasel."

* * *

Ginny's chest slowly deflated after his comment. She paused, not making eye contact with him, as she looked to the ground, a creeping blush starting to invade her smooth cheeks. She fidgeted awkwardly in her shoes, then raised her head, giving him a look of death. well, one her innocent heart was capable of. She narrowed her eyes slightly, as she intensified her gaze with his, her chocolate brown gaze receiving a streak of fiery anger only the Weasley temper could muster.

''Go choke on a snitch, Malfoy.'' She retorted, her cheeks turning a vicious rose from her rising anger and spitfire attitude. ''That is if you can catch one.'' She added, her lips contorting into a mild scowl as she raised a brow challengingly.

She could still hear Peeve's irking laughter in the distance, sending a slight chill up her spine and arms at its shrillness. She looked away from Malfoy, suddenly wanting to be as far away from him as possible. She looked at him for a moment, the way his white-blond hair was slicked back, his icy blue gaze sent her chills, his perfectly scowled mouth, all of these things sent her temper rising, yet intrigued her all the same. 'No, Ginny...' She told herself. She detested him, nothing of the sort was even mildly intriguing about him.

She turned, giving him one last smug look as she continued on her way. Her full red locks bounced along behind her as she strolled along, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She felt as if she were going to bust from anger, and slightly flinched as she felt Peeves heading towards her. She moaned slightly out of exasperation and her aggravated state as she walked back the way she came, having to pass by the dreaded Malfoy ..again. Yet, she had no other choice, it was either irritation by Peeves, and the possible ink blot stain on her old robes, or the inevitable taunting by the crude Slytherin. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation. However, with Malfoy, she had the ability to bite back. Perhaps the kitty did have claws after all, she thought, smiling to herself as she approached Draco once more.

* * *

If that was supposed to be a death glare, Draco was honestly concerned for the youngest of the redheaded clan. Her face was rather... pinched up as though she'd tasted something sour and such things would do nothing more than make an enemy laugh, just as he was doing currently. It started out as a snicker, then slowly made its way into a full-out guffaw. Virginia really, really, REALLY needed to work on that one there if she was going to be intimidating to more than a mouse... and possibly even a mouse might suddenly stop and fall over laughing. He smirked at the image of high-pitched laughter. Vivid imaginations are wonderful.

At her choking on snitches comment, he bent down so that he was even with her height, smirking his classic Malfoy smirk, the one that either drove people to hate or love him. He supposed some a little of both, though he knew not which these were. "Listen, Virginia," he said, sounding as though he were talking to someone who had difficulty understanding the more simple things in life. "If you ever need lessons on how to actually come in contact with that shiny golden ball rather than sitting around watching it all day, let me know, okay?" He raised both of his brows in a truly Malfoy manner before rising back to his full standing position.

He watched her huff off with mild satisfaction... that is until she turned back around. The weasel wasn't supposed to come back. She was supposed to skitter off to whine to the older Weasel. Geez, didn't people these days know -anything-? Obviously not. "Am I really -that- irresistible to the youngest of the Weasels?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned casually against the wall. "Really Weasley, I'm flattered."

* * *

Ginny sauntered back to the same spot she had seen Malfoy, he was.. still there. Was his sole purpose to stand by and taunt her continuously? Obviously so.

She stopped short as she heard him talking to her, and turned to look at him, softly raising a light brow. He was leaning against the wall, as if he had been waiting for her. She laughed in his face as he flattered himself, which he was getting better and better at as the days progressed, she noticed. His ego could never reach its full capacity she realized, for him anyways.. It was suffocating her.

As she got older, Ginny noticed how she was becoming more and more like her twin older brothers. If she had adapted Ron's nature, she may not have said anything, yet, George and Fred had a tongue about them, that she was quickly becoming accustomed to herself.

However, when she opened her mouth to say something, she noticed Peeves. He had followed her and now loomed behind Draco. She stared up at him quickly, then returned her attention to Malfoy as not to draw attention to the poltergeist. She gave Draco a sarcastic smirk when she realized what Peeves had planned. She saw him take yet another ink bottle out... obviously he had those stocked... and he opened it, and poured the thick liquid out, as it descended to Malfoy's perfect slicked back strands. Ginny quickly gasped, then whipped her wand out, stopping the ink from going any further as she yelled an incantation, causing it to come to an abrupt halt merely an inch above his head. Peeves gave her a fully dissatisfied look before continuing on his way, obviously now in a foul mood, for his plans had been spoiled.

Ginny watched as he drifted off, a soft smile appearing on her lips. The it hit her. Had she just... helped... Malfoy? She faltered on looking at him, as an awkward silence formed. Was she supposed to say 'your welcome' if he thanked her? Would he thank her? Now what?

She shifted her weight uneasily as she finally gazed up at him, noticing the ink still hung in mid-air, she rolled her eyes at herself, letting out some pent up air as she waved her wand with another spell, causing it to disappear. She met Draco's icy blue stare with her own chocolate brown gaze uneasily.

Why had she just done that? The boy in which she detested the most? Granted, having ink spilled on you wasn't that huge of a catastrophe, but... it was a Weasley.. helping a Malfoy. She wasn't sure if those three words even belonged in the same sentence. Weasley-helping-Malfoy.

She gently placed her wand back into her pocket, trying to do anything to ease the awkward tension now that could have easily been sliced with a knife and served with jam. She met him with a meek smile before she said, ''I'm sorry, your white hair is tacky enough the way it is.. I couldn't stand to look at it if there were splotches of black to match." She shuddered slightly as if she were picturing it, and shot him a sarcastic smile, tucking a strand of her vibrant red hair behind her ear as she turned to leave.

Whew. She almost thought she'd have to be kind to him.. Merlin forbid.

* * *

There was smirking, followed by a gaping of the mouth, yelping, and a grand finale of a blank stare. It was all dear Draco could do not to applaud her talent in facial expressions. He didn't believe he'd ever seen so many changes in the span of oh... five seconds, particularly from the Little Weasel over here.

He glanced at Peeves, whom was currently wandering off muttering angrily to himself about little brats ruining his pranks and realization set in. A -Weasley- of all people had saved his shiny, bleached-blonde hair from eternal damnation by black ink. Of course, he could have removed the liquid in seconds with the swish of a wand, but 'black ink' and 'in Draco's hair' simply didn't mix. Therefore... Ginny had saved him both time and effort.

Damn her.

Ah! But she had seen it too. She'd realized what doing such would do to her reputation and immediately switched to offense. Lovely. "Oh, Weasley, I didn't know you cared!" he exclaimed in a rather feminine voice. "Did you see that, everyone?!" he called loudly through the halls. "Weasley loves me so much that she saved my hair from stain!" If Weasley wanted to play with the snakes, she'd better be prepared for a little venom.

* * *

Ginny could see a look of somewhat bewilderment in Draco's normal icy cold stare. Yet, it quickly disappeared and his venomous tongue quickly took its place.

"Please, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy.'' She retorted, his name sliding off her tongue like poison. "I could no more love the cruciatus curse.. Then you.'' She answer, narrowing her eyes slightly and raising a light brow.

She had turned back around when she heard him calling after her, declaring her love for him in the halls, causing her to turn back around. Couldn't he just leave her be? Obviously he didn't believe so.

Her cheeks started to blush and turn red from their normal pale shade as he continued to tease her, make a fool and mockery of her.

"I do not..." She yelled to an unsuspecting straggler that gave her a weary look then quickened their pace at her outburst. She pierced her lips into a scowl as she gave out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head in anger as she turned to leave once again.

She then took a step back, giving him a smirk, as she conjured her own bottle above his head, causing its remnants to spill onto his bleached blond hair. "Oops..." She remarked with a self-satisfied smirk as ink started to dribble down his cheeks.

She slipped her wand back into her pocket, and wiped her hands together as if she were done with a messy job, and shrugged her shoulders as she turned to leave.

* * *

Ah yes, he'd seen that coming: the sudden change of attitude, resulting in the girl's ink dropping upon his wonderful hair. Of course, that didn't change the fact that it had happened. Furthermore, it didn't change the fact that Draco most certainly didn't enjoy the feel of black ink in his neatly gelled back hair. It was... gloppy.

"Weasleys never learn." he said with a sigh, swishing his wand and uttering a spell under his breath. The ink disappeared from his head, leaving it just as nice and freakishly straight as before, plastered against his head in a way that some girls deemed 'heartthrob-like'. Such had nearly been enough to make him change his ways...

"I know you really do think you're big and bad, Virginia, and that you believe that you're better than me, stronger than me, altogether superior to me, but let me get one thing straight." He stared down at her with a penetrating gaze that could make any non-self-respecting Hufflepuff cower. "You are nothing, Weasley. You're poor, you're short, you're obnoxious. You think you hold everything in that little palm of yours, but the only thing you have a secure hold on are those clothes you're currently wearing. I'd be hesitant to remove them if I were you."

* * *

Ginny tensed slightly as she felt him coming towards her, and before she knew it, his face was merely inches from her own. She didn't dare look away from his intense stare, and she clenched her jaw as he spoke to her with such a harsh tone, and insulting words. Although he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, to only she could hear, it felt as if it were echoing screams screeching throughout her very being. She flinched slightly as her name rolled so eloquently and casually from his tongue, making her shudder in repulse.

Her eyes glazed over, partially from her rage, and partly from the tears welling up inside of her. Yet, she fought them away, she bit her red lips, trying to hold her emotions in. The last thing she wanted in the world was for Draco Malfoy to see her cry. For then he would win.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she reached her small and delicate, yet, forceful hand to slap across his cheek, leaving a red whelp on his perfectly sculpted features. The smack of the two flesh's colliding echoed throughout the halls, reverberating against the stony walls.

She slowly drew her hand back, allowing it to fall limply to her side. She opened her mouth to say something, yet inevitably closed it, speechless. She almost started to back away, partly afraid, and partly unsure of his reaction, yet she stood her ground, and gazed into his icy stare, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him to say more.

* * *

Draco raised a hand to the area that had been oh so politely smacked with what he supposed was all of Ginny Weasley's effort, before he turned his neck to the side, causing a sickening string of popping sounds to emit from it. He then turned the other way, receiving the same result.

Weasley had just slapped him, rather hard at that. Why did they always -slap- him. Was it so hard for them to retort or walk away with tears in their eyes? Merlin!

"You and your mudblood friend have a knack for wanting to slap people I see. Is it some sort of feminine need? To leave red marks on the male gender's faces?" He sighed wistfully and rose to his feet, looming over the youngest Weasley. "I find it hard to believe that you are so much like Ickle Ronnikins." He smirked delightfully. "You both have no self control. It's amazing really, what a relation by blood can do to a person."

"Oh, and for future reference," he said, giving his award-winning Malfoy smirk. "I'd be careful of whom you use as a role model. That bloody brother of yours is going to land you in prison, Virginia."

* * *

"Don't' talk about my brother like that!" She exclaimed, thoroughly angered. She had winced as he popped his neck in several places, it was like nails on a chalkboard to her. She narrowed her eyes, her fists clamped into small balls at her sides as she tried to restrain herself from punching his eye out. You could talk poorly over her, yet it was the last straw if you insulted her family. The only people she actually held dear. True, being the only girl in a huddle of seven boys, she never felt understood. Which could or could not have been the reason why she had fallen to Voldemort's curse on her in her second year. She softly shuddered at the thought, then continued her glare with him, her cheeks starting to slightly pinken from her rage.

"At least I have family that cares about me, Malfoy.." She accused, spitting out his name, as if it were revulsion seeping from her lips. "They love me and care for me, and would give their lives for me, all of them." She lifted her head slightly, taking a step closer to him. She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, her voice barely audible, as she finally admitted, " What can I say for you?" She stared into his eyes, hoping her words took full affect, "You have a death eater for a father that couldn't care two sickles for you, you're nothing but a possession to him.." She raised an eyebrow as she finally said, "No one cares about you, no one loves you Malfoy, No one."

She took a step back after she felt the harshness in her words, yet her intense gaze never faltered. She studied him for a moment, wondering what affect her words were to take. She assumed that he would be untouched, like always, a simple callous heart that had no feelings, left to rot.

* * *

The girl's words seemed to slam into his face, syllable by syllable, letter by letter. So his father was a Death Eater... that didn't mean he planned to follow in his footsteps. And just because he was bloody well indignant, rude, and an arse to the entirety of the Hogwarts student body didn't mean he didn't have feelings, emotions... It didn't mean his stomach didn't clench with suspense before a quidditch game. It didn't mean he'd never hugged his mother. It didn't mean he'd never pitied a student in mourning. It didn't mean damn well anything. Weasley knew nothing about him. Nothing.

"You speak as though you know me." he growled, his voice soft and dangerously calm. "That you know everything about Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin. Oh yes, he's just a bastard, just an arse that has no emotions. His father, he's just like him. Of course he is." He stared coldly down at her with gray eyes, holding nothing but frustration and anger. "But, Weasley, you know -nothing- about my father, nothing about the Malfoys, nothing about -me-."

The Slytherin Prince's back turned away from her. "And I suppose I rather like it that way." That said, he slowly began to head toward the dungeons, away from the blasted prat who had tried to make him lose what control he had, the one who thought she had it all in the palm of her hand... the one who had more than-- no. She was the Weasel. She had nothing but a cheap family who was nearing starvation for all he cared. She didn't have what he had. She was a Weasel. He was a Snake. She had no chance.

Malfoys never lose.

* * *

"Draco, I'm sor-" Ginny had been on the brink of apologizing, cursing herself for being so uncivilized and rude, stooping to his level, inevitably. However, she was quickly cut off, as he spoke behind his back to her.

Her breathing started to slowly increase from anger, as she started to shake her head in disagreement. "Who would want to know you when you treat everyone, even those you consider 'friends' like dirt beneath your feet?" She asked, raising a brow, and walking towards him.

"Sounds like you've got it pretty much right, Malfoy. And who's to say that you aren't a cold hearted, Death eater in training, bastard just like your father. You certainly never prove that reputation wrong, nor do you ever, EVER give anyone the chance to find out differently. You act it, you live with the consequences." She raised her brow to him, as if asking him to rebuke her comments. Could he honestly deny them?

She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, yet they were somewhat softened then before, as if she almost pitied him, yet still intense with anger.

* * *

Malfoy turned around at Ginny's words, eyeing her with what could be taken as amusement by someone who didn't look closely or just plain... emptiness to those who did. His gray eyes stared back at her, as if screaming something so loudly, yet no one could hear, as if they were drowning slowly and their cries were pointless for no one was near to reach out to save them.

"Exactly, Weasley."

No one got close to him, no one expected more than cruelty from him. He had no one to prove anything to except himself and his father, perhaps Snape occasionally. If anyone attempted to make him look terrible, he could brush it off with a snide comment or snap right back at them, pointing out their faults and making them seem greater than his own.

"Perhaps you're smarter than you look." His back turned once again to her as he began walking again, not expecting another call from the redhead he'd left behind.

* * *

Ginny's thin brows creased slightly in confusion as he agreed with her. "What?" She gasped aloud, yet it was barely audible as her bafflement excelled. "But you.." She whispered once more under her breath. Yet he continued to speak, something about her being smarter than she looked was all she could recollect before he turned to leave once more.

She found herself speechless for a moment but as he turned she finally realized what she wanted to ask, what so desperately scraped at her insides, what longed to be voiced and heard. What was left unsaid.

"Why?" She finally asked aloud, taken aback from her own voice, as it sounded foreign to herself. As if it were someone else speaking and she was merely an innocent bystander watching the events unfold so smoothly before her.

She was unsure of why she had even asked, since when had she cared about Draco Malfoy? Let's try never. But that was just it.. As far as she knew, no one had ever really cared about The Malfoy boy.

* * *

She'd spoken again. He thought he'd be able to avoid more contact... but he was wrong. The youngest of the Weasley's was smarter than she looked and had picked up on the hidden meaning of his words. Draco didn't think it was possible, that a Gryffindor would take time to bother with him. He was used to a glare and a sneer, a snicker, a 'sod off Malfoy'. But she wasn't sneering. She wasn't scowling. She wasn't telling him to sod off.

"Why?" He asked, turning around to face her, glancing around for anyone nearby. There was no one, no one to hold his words against him, save the Weaselette. Of course, he could easily deny his words. She had no proof, absolutely none.

"Because I'm Malfoy, Weasley." 'Because I have nothing to prove to anyone or anything. I don't have to be the hero like Potter, and I don't have to be the charmer like your brother. I don't have to be the innocent one, like you are. I don't have to be the scared moron in the back of the class in potions like Neville. No one gives a damn about me, just like I don't give a damn about myself. It works that way.' His thoughts remained to himself as he remained perfectly silent, staring back at her.

"I'd hate for Ronald to come an yell at me for speaking to his baby sister." he drawled sarcastically. "So if you'll pardon me Weaslette?"

* * *

Ginny silently gazed up at Draco, watching his thought process unravel through those icy cold eyes of his. She shifted her weight for a moment, gazing down at her feet. "You didn't answer my question." She finally stated after a few seconds. She looked up at him, a crease starting to softly form between her two brows.

Her jaw clenched for a moment as he mentioned her brother. Her heart gave a silent lurch at the thought of him. She hadn't seen her brother in days. She remembered back a few nights ago of a conversation between her and Harry, they both suspected something, death eaters, most likely, but were so scared for that to be the truth. Ginny could feel a few tears welling up behind her eyes at the thought of Ron, but quickly pushed them back before Malfoy could notice.

She peered up at him for a moment, shifting her weight once more, as he remained silent. She took a step closer to him, taking up the slack that had been formed as he had turned to walk away earlier, to where they were merely inches from one another. "Why?" She repeated her question once more, her dark chocolate eyes intense on his again.

* * *

Why was she doing this? Why was she bothering with him? She was supposed to roll her eyes, call him a prat, and stalk off as she always did. ... But she wasn't. She was standing there, demanding an answer from him about why he refused to let anyone get close to him. Oh yes, this just made a terrible amount of sense, now didn't it? The most peculiar thing, he had to say, was the fact that he had yet to walk away. Every time he'd tried, she'd stopped him. He could've kept walking, but he hadn't. He'd come back. Perhaps he was ill...

Then again...

"Why do you care?" It was a simple question, one Draco was certain she wouldn't be able to answer truthfully in her current state. No, she was too concerned with making sure that nobody thought, for God's sake the horror of it all, that she was being friendly with Draco Malfoy or caring about him. That would be positively unthinkable for her Gryffindor self. He nearly snorted at Potter's expression if he found them like they were. 'Get off her Malfoy!' Ha. Like he was going to seduce Ginny Weasley. 'The Weasel.' He mentally corrected himself, gray eyes staring down at the splotch of red.

* * *

Perhaps it was a slip, a stumble, her feet had merely nudged her forward and she'd accidentally met his lips with hers. Of course, then there was always the possibility that the youngest of the Weasley family had accidentally done something that she would consider to be completely stupid a few moments later.

Whatever the case, there was no denying it. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were there, in the middle of the corridor kissing each other, both looking rather intent with such at that.

Oh, the irony of it all.