Disclaimer: Not mine. Happy, now?
A/N: I wrote this for Aerileigh's "Beat-the-Cliché" Challenge. The requirements were:
1. The story must feature Draco and Ginny as the prominent pairing.
2. The story must have a minimum length of 1,500 words.
3. The story must contain a following line of dialog: "The house always wins," OR "The house always wins, [Draco/Ginny]," and it must be spoken by one of the two.
4. The story must be betaed. I know that some of you are excellent betas and/or beta your own work much better than I could ever hope to do, but I honestly think that everyone can be helped by a good beta, even we astonishingly fabulous Claws. This, in my opinion, lends a bit more gravity to the challenge--you can't say, "Well, this is crap that I wrote at 3 AM, but I'm too lazy to edit it..." (And I know how that goes. I write absolutely brilliant crap at 3 AM. My beta says so. u_u)
5. The story must be posted, in its final version, by midnight on November 14, forum time. Yes, that's a month away. No, you should not write it on November 12. Unless you have an amazingly quick, patient, and loving beta.
This is 1,762 words without all of the Author's Notes nonsense. Also, I would like to thank sanctuary-in-dreams for being my lovely, lovely beta! Sid, you rock. Pinky promise.
Of Snogging, Innocence, and Chess
"Horse to E5."
"It's called a knight, Malfoy," the lanky redhead sighed in exasperation.
"Really? It looks like a horse. That's quite stupid then, isn't it?" Draco asked, shrugging.
"No, it's just the bloody name!" Ron's voice became louder as the game went on.
"Merlin, Weasley! No need to get your knickers in a twist." Malfoy replied, rolling his eyes.
Ron grumbled unintelligibly and turned back to the board.
"What in Merlin's name are they doing?" Hermione whispered in Ginny's ear; she had just stumbled across the bizarre scene during her prefect duties, passing by an empty classroom, only to hear shouts - that was enough ground any prefect needed to have a look around. She didn't expect to come face to face with Draco Malfoy playing Ron Weasley in a heated game of chess; that was enough of an excuse for any person in general to stay and watch.
"Ron is defending my innocence. And, quite frankly, Malfoy is trying to defile it," she replied, sniggering at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.
"Not defiling, per say, just poking around a bit," Malfoy replied, smirking. Ron made a strangled noise and looked like he was about to jump out of his chair. Draco put up his hands and replied, "Kidding, Weasley." More grumbling came from Ron.
"Pardon?" Hermione asked, still not quite understanding what she was witnessing.
Ginny sighed again, "Malfoy asked me to accompany him to Hogsmeade, and I was about to give my answer, when Ron overheard and threw a bloody fit. Threats were thrown about, my opinion was, yet again, completely overlooked, and now… chess,"She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the table in front of them.
Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together in an attempt to understand. "As thrilled as I am that no one has resorted to violence… well… why haven't they resorted to violence?"
Draco gasped; shock etched across his beautifully angled face, and said incredulously, ""Granger, this shirt is 100% silk. Are you mad, woman?"
"Of course that's the reason. It all makes sense now," Hermione deadpanned.
"What do you want with my sister anyway, Malfoy?" Ron accused, scowling at his recently captured pawn; he was winning, but not by as much as he'd like; it was very unsettling to him.
"Do you want the general gist of it Weasel, or all of the dirty details?" Draco asked nonchalantly, giving Ginny a thoroughly sexy, roguish wink. Her cheeks turned a light pink, and she hid a small smile behind her hand.
Ron had stayed as calm as possible for the duration of the match, but that comment was the end of it, and he became truly aggravated. He jumped up from his chair, which it clattered to the floor behind him, and then he reached for his wand.
"Enough!" Hermione shouted, "Ron, go pick up your chair and sit back down. If you must insist on playing this silly game instead of letting Ginny make a decision for herself, fine, go at it. But there will be no violence. Or… or… I'll have to write the two of you up!" Her voice had become shrill towards the end of her tirade. Hermione Granger not to be arsed with.
Ron nodded, blushing, and as he moved to pick up his chair he was grumbling something that sounded like it might have been, "Bloody prefect… Might as well be Percy…" Hermione smacked him on the arm, and Malfoy sniggered, but his eyes widened and he immediately regretted it when Hermione's head snapped up and she made to smack him. Malfoy flinched, holding his hands in front of his face. Hermione stopped in her tracks and she began to laugh hysterically, with Ginny and Ron joining in.
"Bloody hell!" Malfoy shouted, "You wouldn't take kindly to that either if she had punched you in the bloody face in your Third year."
"She set some fake birds on me once…" Ron mumbled.
"They weren't fake," Hermione corrected, "They were charmed, temporary birds."
"They still bloody hurt, Hermione!"
"Are you ever going to let this go?" she sighed.
"Children, play nice," Ginny scolded, a smile playing across her ruby lips, her eyes never quite leaving the fair pink of Draco's as he smirked, his pale skin smooth as ever, his eyes… but Ginny was quite literally pulled out of her reverie. She felt a hand grip onto her forearm, dragging her from the room.
"What are you playing at, Hermione?" Ginny cried out, after Hermione closed the door behind them.
"You're going to say yes, aren't you?" she accused.
"To what, exactly?" Ginny replied, playing dumb. She had never been a very good actress - Weasley trait.
"Really, dear, you know I'm not an idiot; I can see clear through that. To Draco bloody Malfoy. You are going to agree to go on an actual date with that git, aren't you?"
"Well… that all depends on if he wins or not, doesn't it?" Ginny said with faux indifference, avoiding eye contact as much as possible without her honey-colored eyes roaming too wildly, giving her a faint resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody.
"Oh bollocks to that, Ginny! I see the way you look at him. You were practically swooning. It was revolting."
"Well, he is quite handsome, isn't he?" She asked hopefully, thinking only of his mercury eyes, trying to fathom how Hermione, who somehow found her brother of all blokes attractive, and couldn't see Draco's obvious beauty. The boy was a bloody god, in his own right.
"Really Gin, I don't even know what to say to you. I'm actually a little nauseous at the moment."
"Oi, you're one to talk. Ronald? Really?" Ginny raised an eyebrow quizzically, knowing just how to change the subject. The girl couldn't act, but she certainly knew how to handle her friends, even at their most obnoxious moments.
"Oh shove it," Hermione grumbled, glaring at the redhead with what she assumed was supposed to be some form of intimidation.
"You're face is going to get stuck that way," Ginny said, sticking out her tongue.
Just as Hermione was about to respond, they heard a shout from the adjacent room. Running back in and justly worried that one of the boys had killed the other, the scene Ginny and Hermione came across was certainly… unexpected. Ron was kneeling on the ground, head buried in his large hands, calloused from many a summer de-gnoming the garden at The Burrow, and the table had been knocked over, chess pieces scattered about. Draco sat calmly; hands clasped with the elbows bent, leaning his head on them in a laidback position that spoke of a simple triumph.
"He… he actually won?" Ginny asked, actually quite shocked. She had watched her older (but not by much, she always found herself reminding him) brother play wizard chess, and he was really quite brilliant at the game, despite her constant desire to undermine his ability and irk him beyond reason.
"The house always wins, Ginny," Draco smirked.
"I… I don't understand," Ron began at a stuttering mumble, but it quickly turned into a shout, "It's called a rook Malfoy! A bloody rook! How in Merlin's name did I lose a game of wizard chess to a bloke who can't even remember the names of the bloody pieces?"
"Looks a bit like a house," Malfoy shrugged, "So, Gin-Gin, what do you say? Hogsmeade?"
"Who actually lives in some godforsaken place that actually looks like a rook…?" Ron mumbled to no one in particular, still in a state of shock.
"Oh dear Merlin. Do not call me Gin-Gin - ever," she moaned.
"Fair enough. How about Virginia? Some girls like their given names better. They think it's more… intimate," Draco said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"First off, my name is Ginevra. Secondly, that's rubbish."
"I was never very good at names," Malfoy replied, not looking very apologetic, like it really was a fact of life, and not much would ever change that. He was not a boy who could be changed and that was that, which both frightened and excited Ginny. She shuddered a little at the thought.
He continued, "And I reckon that's not rubbish. If the pale pink in your cheeks that you don't think I can notice is any indication, you would really like me to use your name, Ginevra," Draco sighed, "Ginevra. It just rolls off of the tongue, don't you think?"
She shuddered again, her face beginning to heat up; she was nearly positive she was turning a bright shade of scarlet. She opened her mouth to tell him off, silently praying to any deity she could recall that she wouldn't sound like a right div; she was a bright girl, but he somehow made her feel ridiculously dim. It only made matters worse as she watched him lift himself out of his chair effortlessly, his leans muscles barely noticeable through his thin, white shirt. Just as she was pronouncing her first syllable, in hopes of giving him a piece of her mind, he cut her off by wrapping his arms around her waist, his face closer to hers than was even remotely necessary. Sometime around then she faintly heard Ron being dragged off by Hermione, she insisting Ginny needing her privacy, "Please and thank you, you bloody idiot," with Ron too shocked to even protest.
"So what do you say, love?" Draco asked, their noses touching now. He smelled clean, of laundry detergent, soap, and just a hint of surprisingly modest, yet quite unsurprisingly expensive cologne. Her mind was swimming, no, not even swimming, drowning, with no hope of ever resurfacing. She couldn't bring herself to focus; she was lost in his pewter eyes; his white blonde hair mixing with her deep red locks; his intoxicating smell; his perfect, if not a little thin, pale lips, just barely grazing hers as he murmured about his needing a definitive answer.
Her full lips showed a hint of a smirk, as she used all of her strength and coherency to calmly respond, "Only if you can remember my name this time, Draco."
"Ginevra," he whispered, "My beautiful Ginevra," he said quietly again, right before finally, and gently, taking her lips and claiming them as his own.
She kissed him back just as passionately, tangling her hands in his hair. Pulling back for a moment, he looked into her eyes; there was a mischievous glint in those amber orbs that he hadn't quite noticed before. She pulled on his hand, with a devilish grin, and led him out of the classroom. He clearly had no idea what he had just gotten himself into.
A/N: What'd you think? Hate it? Love it? Would like to buy it a drink? Let me know in a review!