Surprises, Surprises

It started out innocently enough. Ginevra Molly Weasley – whom everybody always referred to as Ginny in fear of suddenly missing a limb – of sixteen, was quietly sitting by herself, in the kitchens, on her own and everything, innocently munching on her strawberries.

And then he had come in, looking all high and mighty and Slytherin-y, while still looking classy. At four o'clock in the morning. Absolutely nobody in the whole sodding world looked perfect at four o'clock in the morning, except for him, of course.

Ginny had glowered at him and protectively clutched her orange tin-striped strawberry bowl, which had been a Christmas gift from Harry (which she still deemed as rather strange). He had laughed.

Not a normal laugh. That was probably too low for Draco bloody Malfoy. Nope. He laughed a very 'I'm-evil-and-I'm-going-to-get-you-while-you-aren't-looking' laugh. Bastard.

'I'm not going to eat your strawberries, Weasley,' he said, sliding into the seat across from her and ordering something covered in chocolate from the House Elves.

'You better not,' said Ginny, glaring and popping a strawberry into her mouth. He smirked at her and rubbed his hands together when he got his dessert.

Ginny stared.

'Woe?' inquired Draco, his mouth full of chocolaty-ness ... something.

Ginny rolled her eyes and asked Dippy, a nearby House Elf, to cover her strawberries in cream. She loved cream. She loved strawberries. The combination couldn't be anymore wonderful, could it? Of course, he had to comment on it.

'Cream, Weasley?' he inquired, after swallowing his something-ness.

'I don't even want to know what's in your desert,' said Ginny, pointedly staring at his plate, which, now that the chocolate was gone, looked even more disgusting.

'It's a pumpkin pastry cake,' said Draco, knitting his eyebrows together and looking at her with a stunned expression.

Ginny snorted. 'No, it's not.'

His eyebrows rose. 'Yes, it is.'

Ginny scoffed and was about to reply when the House Elf returned. 'Oh, thank you Dippy, you are simply wonderful. Do you want a strawberry as well?'

Dippy turned slightly red, but declined the offer and took off quickly, claiming to have to do something with another Elf called Emmie.

'"Flirting with the Weasley's; How to Seduce House Elves in 10 Steps" topping the charts then?'

Ginny really didn't want to think it was funny. She really didn't. But, apparently, her mouth had decided to be iffy. She laughed. Loudly. House Elves were even starting to look at her strangely. So she stopped and popped another strawberry in her mouth.

He seemed slightly put off by this, but took another bite of his not- pumpkin pastry something and glared at the fork.

'I didn't think it would do so well on the charts,' she told him, honestly. He snorted and continued eating.

Ginny suddenly noticed that her last strawberry was covered in an extra-ordinary amount of cream, making the whole thing look more like an odd shaped cream thing than a cream-covered strawberry.

'You know, Granger seems to think that the other Weasley is ... boyfriend material,' offered Draco suddenly, having finished with his pie.

Ginny looked mildly disgusted. 'Trust me, I know.'

He looked interested, but didn't question it further. After a moment, he seemed to think that one piece of his revolting cake wasn't enough, so he demanded another one from a female elf, who looked very frightened and nearly produced the cake on the spot.

Meaning that the House Elf was back from the wherever-the-House-Elves-went-to-get-their-food-place that it looked like that. Honestly.

Draco let out a growl, low in his throat, making him sound like some sort of animal. Ginny looked down again at her pitiful strawberry and decided that she would take it out of his misery.

So, she grabbed it and started to lick all the cream off it, smearing the cream all over her lips, making the rich taste of strawberries even better.

And all of the sudden, she wasn't licking a strawberry anymore. She wasn't Ginny Weasley anymore. In fact, if you had asked her right then and there what her name was, she probably would've made up some rubbish on the spot.

Because kissing Draco Malfoy, who tasted like a soft pumpkin pastry cake (though she would never admit that he had been telling the truth) - and smelled like fresh woods– was brilliant.

Author's Note: Hah. I love this onemuch more)