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Note: Not yet.
Rating: Varies.
It was one of those days.
The sun was shining through the windows on Ginny's right, highlighting the brownish color of her desk. Her hand looked paler under the sun's glare.
She was in class. You've got that right.
No. She was alone.
Sitting still, even after the bell's ring, and even after the professor exited the class.
Why?
Why not?
Haven't you tried it? The last person inside.
Obviously not.
You see, the room looks bare. The desks full. And the air cooler. It'll feel so strange. So new.
The last person inside.
"Weasley."
Hm.
She glanced once at him, and then back towards the window at her right. She noticed the absence of his robes, his tie, and the rolled up sleeves all in that one surreptitious glance.
He looked so casual, so ruffled. So strange.
She heard his shoes tap against the floor as he neared her place.
Funny. Echo exists in this class… People move out, echoes move in…
Ginny turned away from the two fledglings and their mother, giving them their privacy. It was an absurd thing to do, they were, after all, birds, but Ginny didn't think so.
She didn't follow most rules, and yet she rarely broke them.
Having nothing to occupy her, and not wanting to look at the boy, who was currently in the process of grabbing a chair to sit on. She loosened her hair and retied it again, this time a higher ponytail than before.
She felt his eyes on her hair as it came undone, but they strayed as her fingers clasped the loose curls to retie them.
He neared the chair to the front of her desk, so they faced eachother, and before he sat, he turned the chair towards him. And straddled it.
Her turn for her eyes to stray.
Sighing, she took out her notes and rearranged them. After much shuffling on her part, she stopped a minute and finally faced him. This was ridicules.
"You don't have to do this."
He looked at her, and his eyes questioned her point.
She sighed. Again. A small frustrated one.
"I don't want to be tutored by someone who doesn't want to tutor."
"Again. Weasley. Your point?" He made a careless wrist gesture then, as if to speed her process of thought. To hurry. So he could get on with it.
Hm.
Surprisingly, her anger fled right then and there. Leaving only confusion as to why it did.
Maybe he had a point. Maybe there was no point in perusing his motives. Maybe, she should forget this and start getting tutored. What does she care if he didn't want to tutor her? Its not like she's dying of anticipation.
With a grim face she treaded, "Right. Potions then. I have problems with…"
She was walking outside the castle, just near the Forbidden Forest. It was cool, the air a lot colder than expected for a September evening.
Still, she lived for a night like this. Where the moon was round, and the stars ablaze.
The tutor session went smoothly. He wasn't as aggressive and merciless as he could be. But surprisingly, patient in his teaching. There were sarcastic remarks, and the occasional snarls, but all in all, it went smoother than expected.
Although…
She hated herself for thinking it, but she couldn't help herself…
They were facing eachother the whole time, sharing one desk. The times, in which she tried solving the problems he assigned, she couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at her or not. It was pretty girlish of her and she thought her self past these immaturities but it all goes back to one point. She couldn't help herself.
She'll wonder if he's looking, but then she'll look up and find his eyes staring bleakly outside the window. Always. Never at her.
And even when he looked straight at her while explaining, she felt as if he never actually saw her. She didn't feel the flicker in his eyes when she solves a hard question. Nor did she feel his legendry rebukes if she, god forbid, didn't understand.
Even when he remarks mockingly at her "dim-witted sloppy mistakes", his eyes would stray from hers towards the window. Even when he smirks. He'll smirk and mid smirk he'll turn towards, you guessed it, the window.
She felt so…Unwanted. Ugly. And Jealous.
Of a ….a window?
She reached the lake before she reached the end of her thoughts. The shores, as corny as it might sound, called to her, and the wind swirled about at her long skirt.
It truly called to her. The shores sang. Shushed and sprang in dark waves as if to greet her. Maybe even reprimand her for being so late.
But it called nonetheless. So seductive was its call, she found herself stripped to her underthings.
Of course, Ginny's underwear consisted of a white sleeveless top and a midthigh slip.
Not your average underwear, true. Not your average girl, though.
She felt so free. Any precautions were soon flung to mingle with the wind.
But things don't always go as planned. It was during the first bare steps that her feet took that she felt the presence of another. She cursed, but somewhere deep down; she knew she felt his presence long before she was reaching for the hemline of her sweater.
"Weasley"
It was, with a sudden clarity, that Ginny finally noticed how really cold it was.
"What are you doing here? I didn't know you were....I…You shouldn't…"
Rambling, that was what she was doing. A thing to distract her from him and his stray eyes. She laid her hands on her slip, trying to tug it over her exposed legs, but it was a hopeless feat and she knew it. His eyes were already past her legs and onto her semi transparent top…
"I can see the details on your bra."
What? Her eyes widened.
Widened even more when she saw him saunter towards her.
".. Wh…Do.."
She was mumbling, just standing there, her face flushed, warming its way to her collarbones and below. He reached her and stopped not an inch away. Inclining his head slightly, he looked straight into her eyes.
Finally looked.
And touched the hand that was currently poised at her slip. Fear showed victoriously at Ginny's doorstep when she felt him. The hand grazing hers made her lips part, made the air rush through. Her widened eyes never left his. They still watched his impassive ones, even as his hand left hers to feel her thigh.
Here, she finally stepped away. Far away.
Bastard.
He on the other hand, was as pokerfaced as ever. Merely tilting his head, as if what happened was a mere trifle thing.
Her hurt, guilty look didn't even faze him.
He walked the short distance she made away from him, and quickly closed in on her.
She made to move, but he quickly grabbed the back of her neck, holding her in place. His eyes were dark, and the snarl on his face forbid her to move away from him again. The sudden change, the abrupt transformation had Ginny transfixed with sick fascination. But he refused her even that. The glare was so intense that she closed her eyes in defeat, murmuring the first thing that called to her mind, "…what do you want?"
Here he pressed his lips against her cheek, letting her feel the full pressure of his smirk, as his hand snaked to her left shoulder.
And as he whispered her answer, Ginny felt his long fingers under her shirt…
How the …?
…And as he blew cruelly, softly in her ear, she felt her bra's left strap righted in its place.
"It was bothering me" He explained, as he spitefully pecked the arch of her nose, finally leaving her alone in her daze.
To dress back and leave.
That was what he wanted.
"I want you to leave. Now."
At night, on her bed, in her prefect's room, away from him; she thought.
About today.
She knew that it would always be the first day, of one of those days.