A/N: Disclaimer: Nope, I did not write Harry Potter (I wish). Credit to Almighty Ninja Queen JK Rowling, and I think I may have stolen A line from the 3rd movie. Prompt was from The DG Forum (and Lunar Fire). Everything else was me, though. :D

Hmm… I procrastinated my way out of the Dramione hype and decided to participate in the first challenge forum I found. Well, I found this one: D/G (Draco & Ginny) drabble, 300-500 words which must contain the phrase: "Splotched if you must, (Draco or Ginny), but not lumpy!" Must be humorous. I never considered writing a D/G, though their interactions certainly always amused me. So… here goes. I apologise if I got D/G a little off: the concept of them being together seems a bit, well, off, to me. So I decided on a precursor. Here's my humble attempt:


It was the first match of the season, they even hadn't left the ground, and already Slytherin was beating Gryffindor thirty to zero.

Ginny approached the new Slytherin Captain and grimaced at his condescending smirk. She's always hated Draco Malfoy, before she'd even seen his smug little face – what she'd heard from Ron and George had been more than enough. Now, watching him twirl that ridiculously expensive broom nonchalantly between his hands, flicking light raindrops from hair so fair it was practically albino… she loathed him more than, well, anything. She stormed the remainder of the distance and planted her fists firmly on her hips.

"Malfoy," she hissed, voice deadly as a viper. "May I have a word?"

He looked her up and down, slowly, obviously. It made her skin crawl. "Yes, you may. Which one would you like to hear?" he replied, casual as he mocked her. His teammates guffawed moronically.

Ginny stood her ground. "Privately."

Again he considered her. "All right." He strutted past her and into the prep tent. Ginny shivered. She'd never quite been able to figure out why he got to her so much. It took little more than his presence to make her want to scream like a banshee. It was so…. Extreme. Maddening. Illogical. She huffed after him, splashing as much mud on his spotless robes as she could, then closed the tent flap behind them.

"So-" she began, but was cut off.

"Soooooo," he drew out the word, one massive syllable. Strange, that he was eager enough to interrupt but took his time. She scowled and held his eyes with her glare.

The silence was heavy.

Ginny cleared her throat. "SO, Malfoy, as acting Captain for Gryffindor, I have to be responsible for my team. And that means dealing with the opposing Captain if he intends to… weight the scales in his favour. Understand, Prince Slyther-Prick?"

"Ooh-hoo. Not very friendly, are we?"

"Then it's just as well we're not friends."

"And so the bitch has a bark, but does she have a bite? I'd just love to find out." The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as he advanced. "She's a purebred, for all she was raised among the mutts."

Ginny whipped out her wand and he smirked; his eyes showed no intimidation. "Not a step closer, Draco Malfoy. We're going to finish our nice, friendly chat right here, right now. You're going to stop egging my friends into duels with your idiotic herd, and we'll play a nice, fair game." She took a step closer, closing the gap and pointing the tip of her wand tight under his chin. "And if I hear even a whisper of foul play, you'll be nothing more than a lumpy, messy Quidditch pitch to be cleaned up by the house-elves."

She released him and turned to leave, but he caught her shoulder as she turned to open the tent flap. "Splotched if you must, dear Ginevra, but not lumpy!" He tweaked her nose and strode past her to the waiting teams, and what judging by the white of her knuckles promised the most violent Quidditch game of Hogwarts' history.


Hope you liked it. Oops, turned out about 10-20 over the limit… and too angst-y. It was initially going to be lighter. Oh well, assessment due tomorrow, so I'm not going to bother editing this one... please leave constructive comments if you can spare the time!

Hi, bye, come again soon. :D