Hello, again! I have finally found a fanfiction endeavor I like! Hopefully (cross your fingers) I will continue with this one, because I have plans for it to go somewhere! It helps that it is summer and I have actual, not wished-for, time to write! So enjoy. This is my shot at British slang (no I am not British, but they are and I have recently picked up on some terms they use in the good 'ole UK. By the way, I'm going to London next year so SEE YA!!!) and my attempt at romance. I hope you enjoy it and review with your comments…
Gilgaer
p.s. it is all Jo's. sadly enough for me…its not mine! I cry bittersweet tears!
Chapter One
Time Never Stops for Love
Love is a double-edged sword, thought Ginny Weasley as she looked at Dean Thomas through misty eyes. He stood there, fidgeting and tense, his brown hair and medium-length fringe brushing his eyes, which looked so…relieved? Relieved about what? To be dumping her? After nearly two years together? She felt disgusted inside, but also a hollow pit of remorse. The common room, usually so warm and comforting, took on a blurred, angry look as she stared into his dry face. Hardly hearing his clichéd "it's not you; it's me," Ginny flipped her long red hair and strode out the door, ignoring his flabbergasted squawk. Not turning around, she marched away, angrily rubbing the place at the top of her heart that now pained her in a way she had never known before.
Subconsciously, she knew she deserved better, but she didn't care. The relief that had spread across Dean's face as he said goodbye would stay with her forever, along with the pain that was so sharp, and at the same time so dull. Tears trickled over her freckles and pooled in the lines of her mouth. They were salty; salty like the ocean and like bitterness.
Trying to regain rationality, she drifted into her thoughts. Dean had been her first relationship beyond 'friends'. She had trusted him, trusted in his judgment, relieving to him her thoughts and fears and secrets. In her naivety she had let him take control of her heart, which he had then taken and smashed into her face. Love, the most treacherous thing, had shown her something she desperately wished for, and then, with the sweet taste on her tongue, dropped her into a lake of bittersweet tears that were more bitter than sweet. The unexpected short drop and sudden stop left her dangling, and she was afraid to look down. She didn't want to hit bottom.
True, she had held on to Dean, even though she had found it pointless. She had tried to find what she had seen in Harry, in other people's relationships, in Dean. But it hadn't been there.
I should have expected this. I did expect this. Why didn't I pay attention? she lamented.
Ginny wandered the halls, lost in her thoughts of regret, when a voice squeaked from behind her,
"Miss Weasley, is that you? What you be doing wandering the halls, miss? Doby is heading to the kitchen when he sees you walking and wonders to himself why Miss isn't in class like everyone else." He spotted her tear stained face when she whirled around, caught by surprise. The house elf looked on in confusion. His bat like ears and large green bulbous eyes stared up at her in uncertainty, his eyes alight with the want to please and the confusion at her tears. He'd seen Winky sad and crying, but he'd never seen a human cry. "Miss?" He said again, earnestly.
"Lunch is over, Doby?"
"Oh, yes, Miss," the house elf squeaked. "Ten minutes ago. Doby thinks that you should hurry to class, Miss."
"Oh, shite!" she yelled, her relationship problems forgotten. The sudden realization that, no, times does not stop for love, and the fact that she was ten minutes late for potions stirred her into action. Picking up her feet, the turned around and ran. "Thanks Doby!" she called.
"Doby is only happy to be serving Miss," he piped after her. Then, waving a sock after her in farewell, continued on his way back to the kitchen.
Ginny ran along the corridors, down to the dungeon. Her breath caught in her throat as she pounded around a corner, into the stone passage leading down to dungeon three. She was going to get it with Snape. He hated Gryffindors, much less late Gryffindors.
Skidding to a stop in front of the heavy wooden door, she threw it open, nearly crashing through it. Stopping suddenly she leaned heavily on the doorjamb, breath coming in gasps.
"Now—" Snape cut his speech short as the door swung open. Eighteen students whip lashed around, eyes wide at her tear-streaked face, flyaway red hair, and overall frazzled appearance. Snape lifted one eyebrow and flicked oily hair out of his face, eyeing her discomposure and tardiness with a steely air. He looked extremely pale against his dark robes, more pale than usual, but Ginny declined to notice this. She was in enough trouble as it was to speculate over his personal doings. It was Snape, she didn't trust him, and nor did anyone else, for that matter.
"Miss Weasley," Snape drawled, his dark sinister eyes lit up in obvious annoyment of her public display of embarrassment. "How nice of you to join us"
Ginny gulped, fear and embarrassment rising in a rush of blood to her cheeks. The blush was accentuated by his piercing gaze. She sorely wished he couldn't do wand less legilimacy, as many of Voldemort's cronies could. So people said, anyway.
"Sorry, sir," she said looking down and nearly running to her seat. Snape's lip curled. Her friend, Ruby Malson, stared at her in distress. "Ginny!" the strawberry-blond girl cried, brown eyes wide. The she lowered her voice. "What happened?"
She looked so worried! Ginny's heart went out to her compassionate friend.
"Dean broke up with me," she whispered after sliding onto her chipped wooden stool and placing her book bag at her side with a thud. She could feel the tears that welled in her eyes but she shoved them down. There was no way she would cry because of that boy. She wasn't going to show him that he'd hurt her. Tears gone, she looked at her friend. It was well known that Ruby had crushed on Dean for a while before he'd asked Ginny out. The girl had been crushed, but now she adamantly stated that she was over him. Thankfully, her short, slightly plump friend looked shocked.
"No!"
Ginny nodded unhappily.
"I'm so sorry! What was the idiot's reason?" Ginny attempted a smile.
"He gave me the clichéd break up routine, and said he didn't have feelings for me anymore, but for Lavender Brown."
Ruby looked up at her sharply. 'What?" Her eyes unfocused, and a sad look crossed her face, soon replaced by a look of disgust. "The slimy bastard! You for Lavender? He must be stupider than I thought."
Ginny nodded again, a small smile peeking out at the corners of her lips. "Yeah and—" she was cut off by someone clearing their throat behind them. The two girls spun around to see Snape, lip curled in a sneer. "I see that, while you are having a lovely chat, you have nothing done. Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lack of productivity." He narrowed his eyes before spitting out his final sentence.
"Get to work." Spinning around, he stalked over to the other students' cauldrons, angrily pointing out their flaws.
The girls quickly complied with his order. Ruby poked her wand at the flames under the cauldron which had been extinguished. Ginny, wiping away her unease and deciding to not let anything else ruin her day, went to the cupboard to get the ingredients. Her goal for the day was soon crushed as Draco Malfoy, platinum hair perfect as always, joined her at the back with hardly a look or sneer in her direction. His immediate indifference piqued the anger in Ginny which had been smoldering since Dean's un-eloquent break-up speech.
Turning her face away in disdain, she concentrated on retrieving her ingredients from the lacquered wood shelves. Reaching for the last ingredients, yarrow root and centipede claws, she felt cold skin, smooth as marble, brush against the underside of her wrist. It could have been accident, but the jolt of electricity that raced down Ginny's spine told her it was not. Angrily glaring at him, she caught sight of his face. It was chiseled from perfect white marble, and eyes swirling with opaque storm-gray clouds tore her hate at Dean away. Instead, she directed it at him. The face, so cunning, so beautiful and haunting goaded her on, goaded her into a rage. Brown eyes smoldering, she grabbed the claws, preparing to leave when a silky smooth voice stopped her in her tracks. In a voice only she could her, he whispered,
"You think very much like a Slytherin, Weasley, and your blush, I think, finally rivals your hair. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go wash my hands; they are very…" he trailed off, lips turned up in a smile as his gaze traveled over her blushing features. Eyes narrowing slightly, he breathed "filthy." Turning, he flowed away, success in his every move. Ignoring the smug, knowing look he had left her with, Ginny withdrew, trembling, to her seat. She didn't know if she wanted to go over there and slap him or listen to his seductive voice and imagine….
Horrified at where her thoughts were going, she sat down next to Ruby. Feeling his penetrating glance as he nudged and spoke to one of his cronies--Crabbe or Goyle, whichever blundering idiot it was--she fought down her anger. She breathed in and out as she pulverized the centipede claws. Ruby looked at her, startled.
"That upset about Dean?" she asked, haltingly.
"No," Ginny spat. Then she glanced apologetically at Ruby. "I guess I am. It doesn't help that the Slytherins keep sending me such knowing glances, making my skin crawl…" she trailed off again, hoping Ruby didn't notice her skin crawling in unwanted pleasure, instead of repulsion. She left the topic there. "Let's get started making the Draught of Forgetfulness. I could really use some right now!" Exchanging a grin, Ruby peered at the book. "OK, is says to add the centipede claws and the Wolffe's sap at the same time. The potion should now turn—red! Good, now it says…." The time continued on at its melancholy pace.
The class continued in muffled semi-silence, with the murmurings of partners muffled in the fog-like opaque steam rising from their cauldrons. Potions glubbed and gargled, fires crackled, and ingredients fell with echoing thunks.
The potions were simmering for the last twenty minutes of class when the door was slammed open for the second time that day. This time it was Ginny's turn to spin around in her seat and see a tall lanky girl silhouetted in the doorway. A quick, accidental glance showed Ginny that Draco was slightly surprised, with one silver eyebrow raised, and Snape only slightly peeved. Then again, it was a Slytherin.
"Blaise Zabini," he said reprovingly. "Have a seat with your partner for the remainder of the class."
She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she stormed down to his desk and slammed a small piece of thick parchment on it. Snape looked mildly interested. An oily eyebrow rose. "Detention with me Friday? If Filch insists, though I find it hardly necessary. Very well. Have a seat."
She tossed her long black-brown hair and strutted to the seat next to Draco. Peeking from under her long, form-fitting black robes could be seen a green tank-top, a ridiculous thing to wear in the dungeon, and hip-hugging black denims. The green nicely accentuated her dark brown eyes and hair. They leaned toward each other and started talking in hushed voices.
Ginny turned back the see the potion a deep cobalt blue. It was done. Corking a flask, she and Ruby shouldered their bags and handed the potion to Snape, who took in the blue color without comment.
They were halfway out the door when he called her back.
"Ms. Weasley, due to your tardiness you will serve detention Friday night. Come to my office after dinner. You too, Ms. Zabini." Blaise's mouth dropped open in protest. Then, resigned, she shouldered her bag and pushed past Ginny, 'accidentally' shoving her into the doorframe.
"One wrong word Friday night and your dragon shite. They could use some fertilizer down in the greenhouse," she hissed. Then she turned and walked quickly up the corridor to the hall where students clamored beyond. As the two girls walked side by side Ruby turned to her.
"Oh, yeah, and she definitely wanted to be stuck in detention with you," she mimicked, a perfect imitation of Blaise. "The Slytherins are sure a warm lot, aren't they?" Nodding and holding back mirth, the two disappeared up the steps to Ancient Runes.
From behind a statue of Redfast the Ruffled, stormy eyes looked on in far-off amusement.
Draco stared past the slender fit redhead amiably talking with that strawberry blond friend of hers. She was beautiful, he realized, but kept the thought subconscious, as he delved into the thoughts that had brought him to his outward display of indifference—and 'lust'. He smirked. Or so Weaslette would think.
Fires flickered in the candle holders, illuminating the god-like face and body of Draco Malfoy. He sat on a green, black, and silver duvet cover, sliding his hand along black silk sheets. There was a knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Blaise came striding in, fury making her tense.
"What happened?" Draco asked after he looked up. Blaise gave him a look and he raised one sardonic eyebrow. She sighed lightly.
"That idiot Weasel hexed Crabbe and Goyle so they couldn't beat up Potty when he insulted me." There was a pause. Blaise knew she wouldn't get away with lying but—
"Tell me the truth," Draco said, easily reading his friends emotions through years of spending time with her. "You wouldn't come to me about such things; you'd curse Potty before that." Blaise laughed.
"You're right, I would."
"So?" Draco looked up; her strung out answers were piquing his interest. Why wasn't she telling him the truth? Afraid he couldn't handle that? Even Blaise knew better than that! Who was better at handling than a Malfoy? Mentally reserving the thoughts for later, he asked quietly, "What did he say?"
That's when he noticed the slight smile making her lips pucker.
"What?" he demanded incredulously.
Without turning her head towards him, she relayed the story. Draco, half relieved that it wasn't that bad, decided that, overall, it was worth a good laugh. But Draco Malfoy didn't get his bad name for laughing over the teeniest pranks. He listened intently.
"It wasn't Wonder-Boy, it was that Dean Thomas, or whatever his name is, acting like a bloody idiot. Decided that I "had looked one too many times at his girlfriend." Hell, he's more of an idiot than I thought he was. As if I, Blaise Zabini, would be lesbian!" Draco smirked.
"That's all? Tut tut, Blaise. I expected more from you." He shook is head, giving her a taunting, sidelong glance. Resisting the bait, Blaise rolled her eyes.
"Did you? Or just anxious for a good story like the ones Snippy used to tell you?" she chided. Snippy was the house elf Draco had had when he was young. The elf would read him stories at night when his mother was…indisposed. Most often they were muggle stories, but, in order to make him fall asleep, Snippy would treat his master to the latest 'wizarding' stories for 'mature' children.
Draco blushed, porcelain cheeks tinted a light pink. "I thought they were wizard stories." He said lightly, refusing to look into her eyes. Then he laughed. "Right, you, a lesbian. I could just see it." Chortling slightly, he glanced back up to see Blaise laughing with him.
Wiping away the small tears of mirth, Blaise continued.
"But I want to give this...imaginative…Gryffindor something even more creative to think of."
Draco looked up sharply.
"Is this the beginnings of a little thing called 'revenge'? Draco asked, one slim white-blond eyebrow curving upwards gracefully. He really looked so adorable. Then Blaise grinned inwardly. As if she would tell him that. Adopting a smirk of her own she nodded slightly.
"Imaginative revenge. And I already have a plan."
A sneer crossed his face as his lip curled in slight admiration. Really, he thought, it must have taken her a while to come up with a decent plan. Maybe Blaise does have a brain in her head. Or perhaps, he snorted, she just had too much time on her hands.
"Very Slytherin of you," he drawled, inwardly laughing along with his thoughts.
She glared at him as he smirked, brown eyes flashing playfully. As if only guys could be 'Slytherin.' Egocentric Malfoys. But you had to love him, even if he acted like he didn't have feelings.
"What do you have in mind?" He continued.
"Well, how long has it been since we've played a game, like those dares we used to do? You know, daring you 10 galleons of our pocket money to do something like hex the neighbor's cat bald?" She smiled at the memory. Those were the good times, when their mothers were home.
"Those were lame dares," Draco said, laughing slightly at her use of 'pocket money'. Like they'd had 'pocket money'. Their pocket money had been unlimited. It was the price you pay for having mothers who spoiled you in guilt of leaving you to go shopping in far away places. "Tell me what you're planning on," he added, interested.
"I say we get back at him with a little creativeness of our own."
"Ahh and what sort of imagination do you have in mind, Blaise dear?" He asked again, sidling closer.
She swatted him as he moved up and gently trailed a finger down her arm. "I would so like to know." She laughed at his playfulness. She hated to remember a time when he had been serious like this, so serious and seductive…
Lowering her head to whisper in his ear, she said,
"I say we play a little trick on Weasel's little sister."
Draco sat up. "Who, the little red riding hood?" Blaise looked at him in confusion.
"Nothing, just…Snippy," he added, a light pink blush appearing on his stainless cheeks. The girl nodded in comprehension. She cleared her throat in an uncanny imitation of Snape. "You were saying."
Shaking her hair out of her face, Blaise got down to business. "I dare you 500 galleons that you get under her skin and see which way sparks fly. Obviously, she and Dean are dating, and dating men are usually so overprotective." She glanced at him to gauge he reaction. Outwardly, Nothing. Inwardly...even she couldn't tell. Clearing her throat she continued. "So I say we make him think that you like Weasel's sister. It'll be amusing, at the very least." She pondered for a moment, biting her lip, her eyes staring in far off thought. "Besides," she added, "I've seen the way she looks at you."
Draco shivered and then grinned maliciously. He refused to think about those looks he'd caught from the Weaslette.
"And see which way sparks fly? Oh, I like that. Leave it to my sex god charm." She pushed him.
"Ow! Blaise--" he pouted when he saw her smile, rubbing the spot where she'd pushed him. Lips pulled up in a masculine pucker caused Blaise to chuckle. He had always been a sex god, no matter what mood he was in. Pulling her to sit next to him, Draco whispered,
"How about you show me just how bloody gorgeous you think I am?" shaking her head, Blaise got up and blew the chiseled angel a kiss before retracing her steps back to her bed.
Draco shivered, waiting for his chance to begin the dare in the next potions class.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he emerged from his place behind the pillar and strolled leisurely up the wide stairs in time for Advanced Arithmancy with Blaise and the imbecilic Hufflepuffs. The game had begun. The dare was on.
I know, loves: it was a LONG chappie, but I just HAD to make up for the long absence of posting anything. PLEASE review to tell me what you think; if you see any edits that need to be done…or if you just lurve it! Chapter two is in progress, so I'll see you all and don't forget to REVIEW.
OH, and just to see if anything noticed, cuz I have to site it: I did use a PotC quote, and a quote from the song "Bittersweet" by Big Head Todd and the Monsters from the Kink Live 6 album…I like the song, it is, in my mind, fab. But than that's just me….
Toodles!!!!!