A/N - Thank you to all my reviewers. It's really simplistic, but was fun to write. Thanks especially to Eva321 and Luckyducky7.
Chapter 1 In Which Valentine's Day Is Contemplated
Valentine's Day was always a trial for Ginevra Weasley. For the first three years of her sojourn at Hogwarts, she had crushed on Harry Potter, Boy Wonder; but a much-mocked attempt at a singing Valentine in her first year had kept her from trying to celebrate the day in any fashion the next few years.
When she reached her fourth year, however, she suddenly discovered boys other than Harry, and she attached herself to several, Michael Corner and Dean Thomas to name but two. She and Harry were even an item during her fifth year, but he was becoming more and more focused on defeating You-Know-Who, and this year it was clear she was just a sister to him. She decided to concentrate on her schoolwork and helping him and the Order.
Now she was almost halfway through her sixth year, alone since Harry had broken it off, but the thoughts of freedom that rumbled around in her head felt slightly improper. She always assumed she needed to be with someone, and now she wasn't. But being alone, she discovered some things about herself she never knew.
Like how much she loved to fly. Not play Quidditch, although she'd been on the Gryffindor team for a time, but fly. It was nice and quiet up there, with the breeze in her face, and she marveled at Hermione's reluctance to try it.
And how sarcastic she actually was. She wasn't obvious with her joking, like Fred and George, nor was she totally humorless like Percy or Ron. Actually, she admired Malfoy's biting wit, and sometimes even laughed at his sardonic manner toward people.
But still, she wanted romance. Surely every sixteen-year old girl did? It's just that lately, none of the boys she hung out with made her feel the way she felt when she read some of Lavender or Parvati's books. Oh, she knew no one really talked and behaved the way those heroes did, but once in awhile, it would be nice for a man to do something that would make her feel like she was a princess, or at least make her heart flutter just a bit.
Valentine's Day always seemed to throw such feelings into greater contrast. "No one is perfectly romantic, Ginny," her friends would tell her. "Take what you can get." Luna was most vocal, but she didn't have anything to worry about – Ginny's brother, Ron, was Luna's boyfriend, and even though he didn't have a romantic bone in his body, he was certainly in love with Luna and she with him. They never tired of being with one another, and they were perfect together.
Ginny just wanted something like that. Michael had given her a first sloppy tongue kiss; Dean had fumbled with her breasts before she clocked him one in the jaw; Neville was sweet and danced on her toes, Colin was wonderful, but unhelpfully gay, Harry was the brooding brother she had never wanted.
"Aren't there any guys here who know what romance is?" she howled inside.
Draco Malfoy was tired of his groupies. So many women, so few challenges. But, as Pansy was finally leaving him alone, and none of the other girls in Slytherin were really worth his attention he began to look at the other houses. Padma Patil, over in Ravenclaw, was exotic and beautiful; but she was a gossip, just like her sister in Gryffindor. A Hufflepuff was quite out of the question; too much devotion can go a long way, and Draco did not want to be suffocated. Granger was spending more and more time pining over the missing Potion's Master, much to Draco's disgust, and even the Weaselby was getting some action from that loony little blonde, Lovegood. But he had better taste than that. Only the fact Potter had broken up with the little Weasley had given him any satisfaction in the last few months.
Draco was also re-evaluating things about his own life since the events of last spring. He had finally come to the realization that he wasn't a killer, as snarky as he appeared to the world in general; and he had gone to the Headmistress at the beginning of the year to confess his reluctance to serve the Dark Lord. McGonnagal had been understanding, sympathetic and helpful, especially after he showed her the scars on his back and legs from the repeated beatings his father had bestowed during the summer. Somehow, he felt better after talking to her, and managed to keep his grades up and his temper in check since then.
As always toward Valentine's Day, though, he went round and round in his head about all the girls at school he might like to date. Only the Weaselette gave him any pause.
She wasn't really beautiful, but definitely intriguing, and ever since the end of her fourth year, she wasn't afraid of him. He liked that. You can only take so much fawning or fear. She also didn't seem to have a problem just talking to him. Every once in awhile he'd see her in the library doing homework, and she'd ask him a question. He was shocked at first, but answered in a fairly reasonable manner, and after that, if she asked, he'd help. Not that she wasn't smart - she was next in line for Head Girl - but it was nice to be able to help her out and not worry about being judged for his evil Death-Eater father. Draco wondered if this was because McGonnagal had talked to her, or if Ginny was just this way naturally. He suspected a little of both. At any rate, they had become, if not friends, then friendly.
Besides, she was highly sarcastic, and wasn't afraid to laugh at him.
She spices up my day every time I talk to her was the unbidden thought in his head. So this year, Draco decided the little Weasel might be worth a try. He didn't want to be tripped up by his own arrogance, but there really wasn't anyone else banging down his door, at least no one worthy of a Malfoy.