Our Little Secret
Ginevra Molly Weasley was not happy. Not happy at all.
Her now ex-boyfriend, Dean Thomas, was the cause of the waves of rage that were emanating from the redhead. At the start of their relationship he had been attentive and sweet, if not a little "grabby". But then it had become a little weird and slightly annoying. As the relationship had neared its end, all Ginny had really wanted to do with Dean was kick his arse. Was it so awfully necessary to open every door she walked in the general direction of, and then help her through it as though she was some sort of invalid? Did he really find it so important to walk with her everywhere, maintaining a possessive grip on her hand the whole time? Ginny found these things both unnecessary and unromantic; at times she had felt as though he was her stalker rather than her boyfriend. Worst of all, Dean was a Gryffindor too, so she couldn't even escape to the Common Room; whenever she curled up in her favorite worn red leather chair by the fire, she would find Dean so very painfully close to her, asking her what she was thinking and then trying to snog her.
The final straw had come that afternoon. It was a warm spring day, and Dean had attempted to 'help' her though the Fat Lady's portrait. Although he was trying to help, he had actually hoisted her by the arm and shoved her through. She cracked. She yelled, she screamed, and she shot off a few very well aimed Bat Bogey hexes. Promptly afterwards, she stormed out of Common Room, down the moving staircases, and out onto the Hogwarts Grounds.
Once outside, she tromped down the green grassy hills, her face contorted in anger as she muttered nonsense words to students stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Girls whispered behind their hands; boys downright stared at her like she was crazy. Ginny was so angry that she didn't even care. She realized that she didn't know where she was going, so she began to walk in circles by the Black Lake.
As she did so, she had an idea.
'A good adrenalin rush is just what I need', she thought, and began to walk towards the Quidditch Pitch. She had barely taken a single step when she came across the most annoyingly calm (at least, at that moment) person on the face of the Earth.
"Hello, Ginny. You seem quite upset," said a dreamy voice from the grass patch to her left.
"Oh, Luna, hello," Ginny answered, hesitating. Luna Lovegood was sitting cross-legged on the grass, the latest edition of the Quibbler upside down in her lap. Ginny couldn't help but notice a bizarre choker necklace made from large wooden beads and corks adorning Luna's neck. She idly wondered where Luna got her strange jewelry. Forcing her eyes away from the necklace, she went on. "I am. I've just broke it off with Dean and I've officially branded him a wanker. The way he hung off me non-stop, annoying me with stupid questions and comments, you'd think he was an abrasive howler monkey! Even when I was walking away from him he'd keep spewing the most annoying nonsense. I'm off to the pitch to work off some steam now."
"Well," Luna began, seemingly not paying attention. Ginny knew better, though; Luna always paid attention. "I hope you do calm down soon, or you might attract a Tiple-Wurp or three."
"A Tiple-Wurp?" Ginny asked, confused.
"Yes, they're nasty little creatures. They're like tiny dragons. When they sense intense anger, they attach themselves to the person the anger is emanating from and make them do very rash things that would be rather out of character," Luna explained, staring up at the sky with great interest. When Ginny looked upwards, she saw that there was nothing up there for Luna to look at.
"Alright Luna," Ginny said, still trying to work out what on earth Luna could see in the sky. Finally, she tore her eyes away to meet Luna's, "I'll try to steer clear of Tiple-Wurps on my way to the Quidditch pitch." Ginny smiled half-heartedly and continued on her way. She was still very angry, but Luna's strange attitude always got her to simmer down, if only slightly.
When the Quidditch pitch came into sight Ginny sped up, moving at a sort of jog until she reached the enormous open doors that lead onto the field. Instead of walking across the large field, she headed straight to the Gryffindor changing room via a secret passageway hidden in the wall. (Fred and George used to use it to scare the pants off Oliver Wood back when they were students.) Once there, she quickly changed into her scarlet Quidditch robes, grabbed her StarFlyer 420 from the broom cupboard, and headed down the long tunnel to the Quidditch field. The fact that she hadn't flown in a while only increased her anticipation to be back in the air; she needed this.
She walked onto the middle of the field, closed her eyes, lifted her head, and took a deep, calming breath. When she opened her eyes she briefly saw a small blurred figure in her peripheral vision, moving very fast in the distance.
She looked around properly, but couldn't see anything other than the blue sky and white clouds. Had she been imagining things? No, Ginny knew what she saw. Someone else was here, using the pitch.
'But none of the teams have practice today', she thought. Perhaps it was just a bird. It was much too large to be a bird, Ginny thought, and decided that she wanted to investigate from a better point of view; she didn't like the idea of sharing the pitch, especially not today. Ginny mounted her broom, kicked off, and away she went; soaring, spinning, flipping, and performing every trick she knew. It was wonderful – she felt like a bird that had been caged for too long, and had finally been set free. She savored the feeling.
Finally, she settled on a spot near one of the Hufflepuff boxes and floated there, high in the air, watching the seemingly empty pitch, waiting to catch a glimpse of the offending flyer.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" she called, her hands cupped around her mouth.
She waited. And waited. And waited.
Just when Ginny was about to give up and go speeding around the pitch, she heard an annoyingly familiar voice just behind her.
'Oh, bloody hell. Not him, anyone but him', she cringed.
"Well, well, well. Look what the Hungarian Horntail flew in; the Littlest Weaslette," Draco Malfoy drawled from behind her, astride his annoyingly fast new Firebolt, dressed in his emerald Quidditch robes. A snide smirk was plastered across his pale face.
"Listen, Malfoy, any other day I'd love to hex you until your name has to be legally changed to Dracaena, but I'm really not in the mood today, alright? So take your hair gel and your over-glossed flying twig and get out of my sight," Ginny called, her left eyebrow twitching. All of her anger from Dean had come rushing back, and now it had a friend; its name was Malfoy.
"Plug the chimney, Weaslette; I'm not here to fight you." Draco hovered closer to her. "I simply want to practice my Quidditch skills and do a bit of flying, the same as you. I'm sure we can manage to share." The false kindness in Malfoy's voice was enough to make Ginny want to throw up.
What was he playing at? A hundred scenarios flashed before Ginny's eyes. Malfoy could lull her into a false sense of security, then use a Body Binding Curse on her and stuff her into a Slytherin changing locker. He could knock her out, tie her up, and hang her from the highest tower in Hogwarts. He could have a slimy Slytherin friend on stand-by, so when she did something embarrassing, like slip off her broom in mid air, said Slytherin would take a picture, multiply it, and post it all over Hogwarts with "Ginny Weasley: Poor Family and Poor Flying Skills. In Other News, Gryffindor Sucks." written at the top. All of this and more ran through Ginny's head, but, seeing as the pitch wasn't occupied by any team today, and she couldn't physically remove him without getting into trouble – if Malfoy went crying to Snape, she'd never mount another broom let alone play Quidditch again – she'd have to put up with him. Now all she had to do was make sure that she stayed as far away from Malfoy – and any Slytherin paparazzi, as possible. She begrudgingly agreed to share the pitch.
"Just stay away from me, Ferret!" Ginny called as they both went flying in opposite directions.
And off she went. Her worries and anger over Dean's clinginess, and Malfoy's simply being alive melted away as she felt the wind rushing through her hair, whipping it about, making her scarlet Quidditch robes billow around her arms and legs. There was no better feeling in the world, she was sure of it.
Just as Ginny was being pulled away from the world, she was dragged back to reality as something almost collided with the front end of her StarFlyer. That something was blond, green, and soon-to-be red all over.
"Malfoy," Ginny exploded, "I thought we had an agreement; we'd share the pitch and you'd keep your slimy self out of my sight!"
"Don't over-react, Weasley, I just got distracted." Malfoy drawled.
"What could possibly distract you? There's nothing but clouds up here!" Ginny threw her arms out to illustrate her point.
"Well, I flew into a cloud." Malfoy said, looking away. Ginny knew from his tone that he was talking rubbish.
"Well next time watch where you're going and you won't have that problem, will you?" Ginny said, stressing every other word. There was a particularly strong gust of wind and her hair blew around her face like bright orange flames, getting in her eyes and making it hard for her to see.
Malfoy's face took on a strange expression, as though he couldn't understand what Ginny was saying. After a moment he glared at her and flew off again, streaking through the air so fast that he was nothing but a blond and emerald blur.
Ginny stared at the empty space where Malfoy had hovered only seconds ago, attempting to process what had happened.
'Did he just…fly away from me?' Ginny thought. Malfoy was usually one to make a witty come-back, not completely ignore someone. She came to the conclusion that she didn't care what Malfoy did, as long as he was as far away from her as possible. She gripped the handle of her broom tightly, a new energy filling her, and sped off again, zipping and zigzagging through the goal posts and the high crowd stands. She flew faster and faster, higher and higher, until she was zooming between clouds and the pitch looked like a miniature model of the real thing.
Ginny's insides were doing the strange little dance they did whenever she hopped on a broom; flip-flip-tumble-turn, and repeat. She relished that feeling of excitement in her stomach. Why couldn't all of life be this way? She felt carefree and wonderful.
Unfortunately, the feeling wasn't destined to last.
The next thing she knew, she was hit at great speed by a hard ball. Then she was looking at Draco Malfoy's horror-struck face. His face seemed to be getting smaller…no, it wasn't, Ginny was falling. Fast. Something had knocked her off her broom from easily a hundred feet above ground. Ginny may have screamed, or flailed about, or even cursed Malfoy's name and swore that she would see to it that he'd rot in hell. She couldn't be sure though, because soon after she began to fall, the edges of her sight went blurry and she was plunged into darkness. Still, she was pretty sure that she had at least managed to curse Malfoy's name.
DGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGD
"Ginny," a far-away voice called, "Ginny, please wake up."
'Mum?' Ginny thought. Was her mother calling her to wake up? But she was so very tired. She wanted to sleep some more. 'Only a little longer, Mum, I promise. I'll wake up in a few minutes…'
"Ginny!" The voice called again, only this time it was clearer. It sounded worried; worried and a bit angry. "Weasley, wake up this instant!" 'Weasley?' Ginny thought. Her mother had never called her 'Weasley' before. And if she wasn't mistaken, her mother's voice wasn't quite as deep as the disembodied one that was calling her. Then she remembered. Dean. The anger. The pitch. Malfoy being a git. Something knocking her off her broom, and Malfoy's pale face becoming so very small; smaller and smaller until…
And then she awoke, not in mid-air, as she expected, but safely in a bed in the Hospital Wing, with Draco Malfoy staring intently at her from the chair beside her.
How had she got to the Hospital Wing? She'd fallen from over a hundred feet! She should be dead. Ginny didn't feel like she had even broken anything. In fact, she didn't feel as though anything was broken or sprained or hurt at all… and had Malfoy called her Ginny? Ginny was suddenly sure that she was having a nightmare, or that she was in some sort of alternate universe; Draco Malfoy – DRACO MALFOY! – had saved her from a fall that could have been fatal, and was now sat beside her bed, calling her to wake up. He even sounded – dare she even think it - concerned.
"Malfoy?" Ginny murmured, her eyes half open. Her voice rose a little: "How did you…why did you…"
"Weasley, you'd better shut up before I get thrown out." Malfoy's expression was slightly troubled, although he was trying very hard to hide it. His grey eyes looked a bit strained and his platinum hair was disheveled. It would have been comical in other circumstances.
Ginny looked at Malfoy in utter disbelief.
After a very long and uncomfortable silence, Malfoy looked down at her. "It's your fault that you fell, you know."
Ginny was astonished. "My fault? How can it possibly be my fault?"
"Well," drawled Malfoy, "I went to get the Quidditch balls to practice with and I accidentally let one of the Bludgers loose. It was heading towards you when I found it. I shouted out to you to move, but you didn't – you weren't paying attention. You were off in your own little world. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to perform that cushioning spell? You're lucky I even had my wand on me!"
Ginny scoffed. "So it's my fault? What were you doing practicing with Bludgers, anyway? You're a Seeker, not a Beater."
"That doesn't mean I shouldn't know how to dodge a Bludger when it's coming at me." Malfoy defended.
They fell into silence.
"Why?" asked Ginny suddenly.
"Why what?" returned Malfoy.
"Why did you stop me from falling? I'm a Chaser for Gryffindor, and you know we don't have any replacements for my position. Without me, your house would have a huge advantage in the next match with Gryffindor."
"I don't know. I wasn't thinking, I suppose. I just saw you fall and reacted."
"Do you regret it? Saving me, I mean." Ginny was curious.
Malfoy was quiet for a long time. "No, I don't think I do. I'm not so bad, you know, and you're not half as annoying as some of the other Gryffindors. Besides, if you'd ended up in St. Mungo's, who would Bat Bogey hex your brother into oblivion? I always get a good laugh at that."
Ginny nodded silently, the corners of her mouth turned upwards and her lips shut tight, as if suppressing a laugh.
Malfoy stood. "Well, I'm leaving. Goodbye, Weasley." He turned to leave but Ginny called out to him before he reached the door.
"Malfoy, wait! I…I want to say…thanks. For saving me, you know?"
"Don't mention it Weasley." He paused. "Really, don't mention it. If it gets out that I've saved a Gryffindor from great injury or death, I'll probably be ostracised." Malfoy chuckled. It wasn't a malicious laugh, or an evil cackle, but a genuine laugh. Ginny, despite herself, laughed with him.
Madam Pomfrey came bustling over. "Mr. Malfoy, it's time for you to leave. Four first years are on their way up with horrible wounds from some man-eating plants in Herbology, and I don't need you here upsetting them." She shooed him away.
"Remember Weasley," Malfoy called over his shoulder as he left, "Not a word!"
"It'll be our little secret, Malfoy!" she answered.
DGDGDGDGDGDG
Three days had passed since Ginny's Quidditch accident.
"Ginny," Hermione began as she sat down opposite Ginny at the Gryffindor table. She absently grabbed a piece of toast as she spoke. "I heard about your Quidditch accident the other day. It must have been awful! How did you get to the Hospital Wing all by yourself?"
"Oh, well, I..." Ginny stumbled over her words, "Madam Hooch found me. It was very lucky, really. Uh, where are Harry and Ron?" Ginny was eager to change subject; she did not need a vengeful Slytherin for an enemy.
Hermione began to complain loudly about their horrid habit of oversleeping, and how they were insensitive, and thick, and were going to fail their Potions test tomorrow, and…
A brown Hogwarts barn owl swooped down from the high ceiling and dropped a small piece of parchment, sealed with green wax, onto Ginny's breakfast. She immediately opened it under the table. There were only seven small words scrawled across the parchment, but they nevertheless had a strong effect on Ginny.
Room of Requirement. Noon.
Our Little Secret.
Ginny looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy staring at her, a slight scowl on his face as he glanced over at Pansy Parkinson, who was obviously talking his left ear off.
"Who's that from? Dean? You know, if Ron finds you two snogging in an empty hallway again, it won't be too long before we're attending his funeral…" Hermione giggled, having finally noticed the letter.
"Uh, it's not from Dean. Actually, we broke up. I broke up with him the other day." She smiled nervously.
Hermione sat up straight. "Oh. Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry-"
Ginny cut her off, "Don't be, really. He was a pain in the arse as a boyfriend, to tell the truth."
Ginny looked at her watch and stood up. "I've got to go now; I've got early Herbology today. I'll see you in a bit." She grabbed a final piece of toast and ran off.
DGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDG
Herbology was torture. All that Ginny could think about was Malfoy and his note. What could he possibly want? A favor, perhaps? After Malfoy's Attempt-to-Kill-then-Rescue, Ginny's opinion of him had changed. Not drastically, but enough for Ginny to not think that his note was a plot to kill her. She was still very aware that he was a Slytherin and would most likely chuck her into the wolf pit if it'd save his own skin, but she couldn't help but wonder whether he might just be an okay person. Might.
After a very long, grueling hour of Herbology, Professor Sprout finally allowed the Gryffindors to leave. Ginny looked down at her watch; it was 11:48. She swore, realizing that she was going to be late; it took at least a half hour to get to the Room of Requirement from the greenhouses.
Ginny raced across the grounds, into the castle, and up seven flights of moving staircases. By the time she located the right wall she was panting and red in the face.
'Calm down,' she told herself, 'deep breaths. Even if Malfoy's not a complete git, that doesn't mean he won't ridicule you if you go in panting like a dog.' She straightened out her uniform, combed her hair with her fingers, and waited for her breathing to return to normal. Once she was sure that she was as presentable as she could be, given the circumstances, she walked back and forth by the wall three times, thinking; 'I need a private place to meet with Draco Malfoy; a private room.'
A door appeared immediately. Ginny braced herself and pushed it open, still listing things Malfoy could possibly want in her head.
The room was warm. There was a fireplace on the far wall, surrounded by two chairs and a sofa. Sitting in the middle of the sofa, watching the fire crackle, was Malfoy. He seemed to be hypnotized by the flames.
Ginny cleared her throat loudly, and Malfoy jumped slightly.
"Weasley," Malfoy nodded. He stood up and walked over to her.
"Malfoy," Ginny returned.
"Call me Draco," Malfoy said, as though the thought had burst from his lips involuntarily, without any kind of filter.
He looked almost unnerved.
Ginny felt herself blush. "Then I suppose you should call me Ginny."
"I suppose I should." he deadpanned.
Ginny couldn't help but feel that this exchange was a bit uneventful. She was nervous to even be in the same room as Mal– Draco, and anxious as to what he wanted, and she was becoming increasingly impatient to have the conversation over and done with. Maybe when it was over, they'd go back to being 'Weasley' and 'Malfoy' again, and would only talk when exchanging insults about hair and family. The strangeness of the situation was really starting to get to Ginny.
"I'm in a bit of a hurry to get to my next lesson, Draco. Is there anything particular that you wanted?" It was only a half lie, of course. Ginny had free period next, but she was in a hurry to leave.
"Oh, it won't take long, I assure you," He stepped forward, so that he was even closer to her. If she reached out, she would be able to touch him. Ginny didn't like where her thoughts were going. "I just," he paused, searching for words. Then the drawl, the same one that had been absent from his voice since he had saved Ginny at the pitch, came back into his voice, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm not a goody-goody, you know, just because I took you to the Hospital Wing. I won't be hanging around with Potter and his Band of Merry Men, now."
"Well I know that," Ginny said, scowling back at the blond.
"Do you?" Draco shot. "I saw you talking to Granger this morning. She said something about your 'Quidditch accident'. What did you say to her?"
"I told her that Madam Hooch found me, you git! I can't believe you don't trust me! If there's anyone here who can't be trusted, it's you!" Ginny advanced on Draco, stepping closer, a look of menace stretching across her face.
"Oh, is that so, Ginny?" Draco spat.
"As a matter of fact, it is, Draco." Ginny replied, imitating his sneer.
"Is there anything else you'd like to add to that?" Draco was advancing on her, but Ginny raised her head a little more and puffed out her chest.
"Now that you ask, there is! I-" But Ginny was cut off. Not by a spell, or by an insult. Not even by a punch. Ginny was cut off by Draco's lips slamming determinedly against her own. And even though two seconds ago Ginny had been about to rip Draco's head off, even though everyone she was friends with hated him, even though she had no idea what she was doing, Ginny relaxed and slowly kissed him back.
When neither could cope with the lack of oxygen, they pulled apart, staring at each other; Ginny, confused and slightly giddy, Draco, a bit smug and very pleased with himself.
"Did we just…?" Ginny trailed off.
"Snog?" Draco finished. "I think so, yeah."
"Oh." Ginny walked over to the sofa by the fire and sat down. "Okay, then. I just wanted to make sure."
"Have these sorts of dreams regularly, do you?" Draco asked, smirking.
"You know what I mean!" Ginny snapped. She wasn't quite sure what to feel at this point. She was confused that Draco had kissed her, but at the same time happy about it. She also didn't know what the kiss had meant for him. Was it just a one off; never to happen again? Did he do it just to shut her up? Or did he like her? Ginny couldn't imagine that he did. But then again, he was already proving himself to be a very surprising person.
"I have to go. I have Transfiguration in ten minutes." Draco said slowly.
"Oh." Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, "Alright then...I'll leave in a while. You know, in case someone sees us…together."
"Goodbye, Ginny." He made his way over to the door. Ginny looked down at her hands in her lap. 'So it was a one off event…' "Oh, and Ginny?" Draco drawled, his hand frozen on the door knob. "Meet me again tomorrow; same time and place."
Ginny looked up from her lap, unable to conceal her smile. "Alright, then. Our little secret, Draco?"
The corners of Draco's lips turned upwards in a ghost of a smile, "Our little secret, Ginny." he answered, and exited the room.
A/N: My Beta was the lovely and much over-worked QueenofSpades, who you may contact at Perfect Imagination. This IS a one-shot, or meant to be. There is a .0001% chance of me continuing. I just got a flash of what I could do for future chappies so if I have anymore free time between my Twi-fic and my other DG fic and my My Immortal rip I will.
