A/N: Hello! It's certainly been a while.

I've decided to take a break from long stories and focus on short ones instead (no need to point out the fact that I've mostly done short stuff anyway). I'm terrible at continuing stories and feel as if I just need to write. So, these strange prompts. How these work: I basically open the dictionary to a random page, place my finger on a random word, and write based on that. No word limit for myself - hate those - it's just to get a little creative juices flowing without getting stuck on a longer piece of writing. I'll try to do one per day (probably end up doing one per week or something,) but we'll see. D/G, of course. Maybe a few other pairings as well.

Blanket Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own nothing in the Harry Potter universe (if I did, I wouldn't be writing here, would I?) I'll only do this in the first chapter - don't want to type it again.

Prompt #1: 7/9/17

586 words, according to Google docs.

Holding the littlest Weasel was purely accidental, of course. How was he supposed to predict that she was going to run head-on into him? And what was she doing in front of the entrance to his common room?

"What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?" He carefully disentangled himself from her and stepped back. Her reckless dash had pushed him back a few paces, but he quickly made up for that distance, boxing her in against the nearest wall. She avoided his eyes at all costs, glancing up, and then down. Anywhere but him. He repeated himself. "What are you doing here?" She finally met his eyes.

"N-nothing." She made a valiant effort to keep the tremor out of her voice, but failed miserably. His eyes narrowed.

"Nothing doesn't merit running into a prefect - in the dungeons, to boot." He noticed the tears slipping down her freckled cheeks, spattering against the stone floor, and grimaced. He hated dealing with crying females. "Look." He backed up, scratching the back of his head and forcing a sneer on his pointy features. "It's almost after curfew, and I can dock points if I want." More tears. Dammit. He had a thing with making girls cry more than they already were. "So make yourself scarce." Finally, he saw a faint glimmer of the infamous Weasley temper.

"No! I came down here to do something, and I'm not leaving till I do!" She glared up at him angrily, despite the tears still streaming down her cheeks. Draco sighed irritably.

"Get lost, Weasel."

"Stuff it, Ferret." They fell into an awkward stand-still, each glaring at the other and neither willing to back down. This new development allowed Draco more time to think. What in Merlin's pants was he supposed to do with this Weasley? He couldn't escort her back to her own common room, that was for sure. She wouldn't go without a fight, and he didn't want to imagine what the noble Gryffindors would do, seeing him dragging their darling princess along. He snorted unconsciously, earning a suspicious glare from Weasley. He was more than willing to take one of them up in a duel, but so close to curfew? Not a chance. He didn't want his badge stripped anymore than Granger did.

His musings were interrupted by someone rounding the corner, slightly out of breath. His head whipped around, temporarily forgetting about Weasley.

"Weasley, where in Merlin's bloody beard have you been? I've been searching all over - " Pansy Parkinson's dark brown eyes met Draco's and she abruptly stopped in her tracks.

"Pansy?" Draco's incredulous voice echoed in the small corridor. She sent him a glare worthy of his Aunt Bellatrix.

"Why in the world are you wasting time antagonizing Weasley?" She started forward, reaching towards her and pulling her away. Draco raised an impeccable eyebrow.

"Why do you care?" His question fell to deaf ears, however, as Pansy led Weasley away - her arm draped around her shoulders, whispering something in her ear. The other eyebrow quickly joined the first. Well, this is interesting. He knew there was no use pursuing the unlikely pair - he knew how crossing Pansy would turn out - so he re-entered the common room, forgetting completely about whatever he had set out to do.

As he started up the steps to his dorm, he froze, nearly colliding with Blaise. Only then did he realize Weasley and Pansy were, in some strange, impossible way, friends.

Of course, it didn't help that he had enjoyed holding her, either.