Chapter One: The first taste
"Darling just start the chase-I'll let you win, but you must make the endeavor."
(Sung to the tune of "I'm just a little black rain cloud" by Winnie the Pooh)
"I'm just a poor little preeefect,
Forced into sleep dep-rivation.
I'm just a poor little preeefect,
Singing out of des-peration."
Draco was bored. He used to take late night strolls by himself before he became a prefect but for some reason making them mandatory took all the joy out of it. He had shifts where he would have to patrol the corridors for a little while and watch out for stragglers and love birds, in fact Draco had become one of the leading methods of birth control at Hogwarts, very much to his chagrin. But have faith that nothing can ruin your libido more than a cranky blonde Slytherin shining a wand in your eyes and threatening your first-borns (all of which would be conceived after Hogwarts thanks to said cranky blonde). Some of his Slytherin pals that were in less peril of being Avada'd had taken to calling him spermacide, which subsequently upped their names on his list of people to curse.
Draco was muttering his little song of self-pity and leisurely strolling the fifth floor corridor when he noticed a bright flash of something around a dark corner. Sighing to himself he followed after it, whatever it was. But once he had turned the corner he saw it turning another one, feet from where he now stood.
It was fast.
Picking up the pace he muttered a silencing charm on his shoes and crept swiftly along. He saw it again, a bright flash at the top of a staircase before it dashed along the corridor to its right. Draco skipped up two stairs at a time and ran down the hall, seeing the suspect occasionally illuminated by a strip of moonlight leaking through the small arched windows at the top of the corridors. He flew down a staircase right before it started to change positions and slid a few inches to a halt on the landing. It was right in front of him now and Draco stopped moving, wondering where it was headed since it had just gone up a staircase and then down another one bringing it back to the fifth floor.
"Lost?" He spoke loudly into the quiet shadows. The figure whipped around in shock and took a step back; right under a window that graciously shed moonlight on the form of Ginny Weasley.
"No," she said a little hesitantly, "I think I've got a pretty good idea of how to get around after six years."
"Then I dare-say you realize that this isn't the Gryffindor common room?" Draco gestured around them and smiled condescendingly at her.
"And people say you bought you're way into becoming a prefect. Obviously it was your stunning deductive skills." She blinked at him and crossed her arms.
"And it's your witty charm that has just landed you a detention." He had momentarily lost his smug expression with her effortless jab but now it was firmly back in place. "No wait, first it was your being out of bounds after curfew. Does that make two detentions? Yes I think it does." Without another word Ginny straightened up and walked right past him, heading for the dormitory.
"Sweet dreams!" Draco called after her.
Two nights after his run-in with Ginny, Draco was patrolling again, currently near the library. He was sipping a cup of coffee that he had just nicked (as was customary to call it by all those who knew they could "nick" an entire turkey dinner from the kitchens just by entering the room) from the kitchens when he saw a familiar shade of red scurry across a dark landing.
"Tut, tut, little Weasel," He murmured into his cup before pushing off the wall he had been leaning on and stepping into the middle of the hall. But as he started towards the small flight of stairs he had seen her go by a loud scuffling caught his attention from the other direction. He heard a high pitched giggle and instantly recognized it as belonging to Mandy Brocklehurst, a sixth year Ravenclaw who was out here at least every other night with a different boy in tow. Her downfall was always her shrill yelps and giggles. Draco grimaced and made for the vicinity in which the cry had come from, hoping that the Weaslette wasn't going to meet someone as well because the last thing the world needed was yet another Weasley.