"In the long run, we're all dead, so why not live a little?" Ginny Weasley's logic was impeccable, as always, but that didn't make Diana Whitmore feel any better. Usually the downside to her friends logic never occurred to her until after they were in the Headmaster's office.
If he had a penny for every time he'd heard one of them say, 'Well, sir, it seemed like a good idea at the time…' he'd have more than enough to buy Snape a decent shampoo and conditioner set. For the rest of his life.
"This whole unconscious competition thing you have with the twins is definitely a sign of failing mental health," she finally settled for whispering before crouching next to her friend outside the Slytherin's compartment.
"You have to have had mental health in order to have failing mental health. Thankfully, I have neither."
It was unlikely she had a brain, either, with what she was planning.
Messing with Slytherin's was always a bad idea. Messing with Slytherin Royalty?
"Well, mate, it was nice knowing you," clapping her best mate on the shoulder, Di peered around the corner, acting the part of a lookout.
"Any sign of the Prefects?"
"Nope. Coast is clear. No witnesses for our death."
"You're being overdramatic," Ginny scoffed, wand at the ready. "They're not going to really kill us."
Di regarded her slightly delusional friend with the deepest look of concern.
"Ginny, dear, you do remember that nasty shrinking incident in fourth year, right? You remember, when Parker Graham accidentally dumped boil remover on Pansy Parkinson's robes? And how for almost a month afterwards Parker was singing soprano because somebody mysteriously managed to relocate his testicles?"
"And now he has a nasty habit of public masturbation," Ginny finished, chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated the all too real threat of losing 'the girls' should they be caught.
"Poor chap," Di clucked sympathetically. "Never gonna amount to much now."
It was true. Parker had been held back twice for fondling himself as opposed to actually taking his OWLs.
"He could always have a career in the porn industry," Di murmured, more to herself than anybody. Ginny snorted.
"Trust me. Without a few engorgement charms and some serious cosmetic work, nobody's gonna wanna see Junior up close and personal."
"You've seen him…"
"Who hasn't?" Ginny shrugged a shoulder dismissively before turning her attention back to the compartment door they'd been covertly watching for the past twenty minutes.
"You know the plan?"
"I know the plan." Fat lot of good it was going to do them. The occupants of the compartment in question had the wizarding equivalent of a Harvard Education in Bad Assery. Di was almost positive they were going to get caught.
Still, better to go down in a blaze of glory than to…actually, dying didn't really seem like that great of a plan.
Di had a clear moment of thought, you know, one of those 'what the hell am I doing?' moments, which she was quickly yanked out of by Ginny's sudden forward motion.
"Come on," Ginny grunted, inching her way along the wall. "The Prefect is going to be heading this way any second now."
Having never been a Prefect herself, Di was going to have to trust Ginny's judgment. Granted, one semester wasn't exactly a shining star, but to be frank, Dumbledore really hadn't had a choice but to revoke the position seeing as Ginny had a tendency to blatantly abuse her privileges.
"What's the point in having a shiny badge if you can't stab people with it every once in a while?" Had been her philosophy.
Di gave serious thoughts to switching up her best mates, but peering at Ginny's hunched shoulders and listening to her barely audible footsteps, she was forced to acknowledge that none of the other candidates were as interesting as Ginevra Weasley.
"Ready?" Ginny motioned Di up on the other side of the compartment door.
"I was born ready," Di shot back with a quick grin, her grip on her wand tightening and loosening as adrenaline flooded through her.
"On the count of three. One…two…" Ginny was on her feet, throwing the compartment door open and holding her wand in the most menacing fashion possible as she prepared to deliver her fear inspiring speech of impending doom…
"Hey!" Di protested, coming to her feet next to her best friend, a look of supreme annoyance on her face. "What happened to three?"
Contrary to popular belief, Slytherin's don't perform ritual sacrifices on the ride to Hogwarts.
For the most part, they slept, ate, talked, played games…you know, normal kid things.
Well, save for the abnormal amount of betting that took place.
"You cheated." Blaise Zabini arched an eyebrow while Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"How do you cheat at Exploding Snaps?" Pansy Parkinson asked, mystified by the very thought. "They explode, you lose. Simple as that."
"Then how come he always wins?" Daphne pointed out with a slight pout.
"Quite whining, Greengrass, and pay up." Daphne narrowed her eyes as her hand dipped into her pocket, pulling out the ten galleons she owed him. Reaching out she hesitated before putting them in his palm, waiting for him to meet her eyes before issuing her challenge.
"One day, I will find out your secret. And then…" she trailed off ominously earning her another eye roll, this time from Blaise himself.
"I can't help it if I'm naturally superior to you," was all he said, gracefully depositing his newfound wealth in his own pocket.
"Either that or you're cheating," Pansy stated, completely going against her previous defense of him. Eyeing her with the patented male look of mystification at the female mind, Blaise turned to share the look with Draco, who merely arched an eyebrow in response.
"I've resigned myself to never fully comprehending how Pansy's mind works," was all he said by way of explanation.
"It would take several lifetimes for anyone to fully comprehend myself. For you, though, it'd take several millennia."
"Hah," Draco mumbled, settling back in the bench and folding his hands across his stomach as he stared at his dark haired semi-nemesis kiddie corner to him. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not that complicated."
"Draco, my dear, it has less to do with my complexity than with your density. If it wasn't for Blaise showing you the finer points of seduction, you'd still be a virgin."
"Hey!" Taking a shot at Draco's masculine pride was a surefire way to get a response out of the somewhat snarky blonde. "You leave my sex life out of this!"
"What sex life?" was the immediate response from the other three occupants of the compartment.
The three of them were still grinning over this while Draco sulked when their compartment door went flying open.
The apparition in the doorway was decked out in black robes, head to toe, with a bone mask over the face to effectively imitate the terrifying figure of a Death Eater.
Whoever it was did a pretty good job. For about five seconds Blaise's heart was in the vicinity of his throat until he noticed the nail polish.
It was pink, chipped, and way too girly for any of the five female Death Eater's that he knew of.
The sneakers didn't really help either.
It took all of three seconds for his brain to process all of this, during which time another figure popped up next to the first.
No nail polish, and the shoes were definitely an improvement. Some sort of boot this time.
Blaise could almost believe this one was the real deal until the figure spoke.
"Hey!" It exclaimed, hands on hips, posture and voice the very picture of indignation. "What happened to three?"
"Di-on't ruin the moment, minion," the first figure hissed to the second.
"How come I'm always the minion?" the second figure shot back.
"Because you're the one who always ruins the plan!" The first figure turned to face the second, hands up high as she, cause really, it had to be female with that nail polish, waved them over her head to make her point.
"It was a stupid plan to begin with!" The second figure shot back, stomping her foot (dead give away as to her gender), and slamming her curled fists against her hips as the two of them glared at each other.
Which was pretty funny since they were both wearing masks that covered their faces.
"It was not a stupid plan! You take that back!" Figure One slammed a bony finger into Figure Twos chest.
"Ow! My boob! Damnit it Gi-nius master of mine. That fucking hurt!"
"I'll show you fucking hurt!" Figure One lunged at Figure Two, who met her head on, letting on a very Tarzanesque yell as the two proceeded into some sort of mortal combat in the Slytherin compartment.
Draco stared, completely mystified, as two squirming figures suddenly fell at his feet. When he'd silently wished to have females dropping at his feet, this wasn't quite what he had in mind.
"Take it back!" Figure One had Figure Two in an impressive headlock, but Figure Two had somehow managed to latch on to Figure One's leg, resulting in a sort of hopping wrestling match.
"Apologize first!" Came the gritted response.
"Fine! On the count of three?"
"You're three or my three?" was the oddly civil response.
"Mine. One…two…"
"Puniceasuabeo!" The two girls yelled in tandem, their wands pointed at separate targets.
Blaise felt the spell go through his personal shields, his expression akin to shock.
That wasn't supposed to be possible. Nothing was supposed to get through his shields unless he let it. His father had assured him of that before he'd left.
"Bloody hell!" Draco was staring at him with something akin to horror on his face, the horror multiplying as he reached up and tugged a lock of hair down.
An alarmingly brightly colored purple lock of hair.
"You're bloody dead!" He snarled, going for his wand and diving out the door after the two fleeing figures, Blaise, the only other one hit by the spell, only half a step behind him.
"You take left, I'll take right," Draco ordered, already racing after his chosen target.
Nobody could accuse her of freezing up in the moment, Di thought, oddly proud of their little improvised scene.
Granted, when Ginny had poked her chest it had really hurt, but, still, all was fair in friendship and pranks…
Racing down the train, she quickly yanked off the mask and the robes, lest some poor sprog duck out of their compartment and meet with the shock of their life.
Holding them under one arm and pumping the other to gain momentum, she dared not risk even a glance over her shoulder as she raced through another car.
"You can't run forever!" came the terse half-yell behind her.
"Watch me!" She shot back, the very picture of defiance until, she realized with a glance, that he was right. Unless she wanted to taking a running leap off the back of the train, she was somewhat limited in her options.
Still, she never was one to make things easy on her opponent.
Reaching the end of the next car, she paused for a second, peering for a hiding spot when two arms slammed down on either side of her without so much as a warning sound of a door opening.
"Ho- Oh Holy shit!" She breathed, staring in wide eyed wondered at the grey-eyed boy glaring menacingly down at her. With a shock of bright purple hair very nicely styled on top of his head.
Her mother had always warned her about poking at an angry tiger, but Merlin, he looked so funny…
"Are you laughing at me?" The great and feared Draco Malfoy was used to being, well, feared by his peers. He was used to deference, respect, and a little bit of awe. He was not in the least used to someone laughing in the face of one of his threats, or in his face itself for that matter.
"I can't help it," the chit in front of him replied with a giggle and a quirky grin that drew his eyes almost immediately to her mouth. "You look so…."
"So, what?" He growled, waiting for her to tell him something like 'threatening' or 'masculine' or 'powerful' or some other equally manly adjective.
"Cute!" She barked out around a gale of laughter. "You're adorable!"
Draco gritted his teeth against her amusement, narrowing his eyes in his most threatening manner until the trollop obediently halted her laughter. But that quirky smile was still there.
"You must have a death wish," he finally stated, his cool all but shattered, first by the hair, then by her laughter and those lips…
"On the contrary," the chit smiled wider, staring up at him with earnesty. "I happen to have a life wish."
"A life wish?" His eyebrows, also a glaringly bright fuchsia blend, shot up as he stared down at her with a mixture of confusion and hostile admiration. "What the bloody hell is that?"
"It means, Mr. Malfoy, that dying is easy," Di smiled up at him. "You don't need to waste any wishes on that. Life, on the other hand, is definitely wish worthy."
Draco stared down at her.
"You're a barmy little bird, aren't you?"
"I prefer the term creative thinker. It sounds like something you could put on your resume, doesn't it?"
"I have to punish you." Draco knew this. As a Malfoy, he couldn't let this…prank tarnish the family honor. As himself, though, he kind of wanted to keep her around, sort of like a mascot, or something. His eyes dipped to her lips once more.
"Alright," Di tilted her head back and stared up at him, her spin rigid with defiance, her eyes alight with glee and bravery, with a hint of kamikaze resignation. "Do your worst."
Draco never could resist a challenge.
Ginny let out a whoop of glee as she darted through another car, tossing her costume in the nearest loo as she continued on her mad dash away from her latest victims.
She'd gotten pretty good at this part of pranking people. When Fred and George had taken her under their wings way back in second year, the first thing they'd had her do was wind sprints.
"You….just…want…to….torture me," she'd gasped out after the first set as she lay wheezing in the short grass just outside the Burrow.
"On the contrary"
"my dear Ginny. We're actually"
"trying to help you. If we'd"
"been faster in"
"our youth"
"Mum"
"wouldn't have"
"caught us"
"nearly as much."
"Torturing you is just a bonus," they'd finished in tandem. Tiny, precocious, lady-like Ginny had flipped them the bird before climbing to her feet and repeating the whole torture again because, as much as she hated to admit it, they had a valid point.
When executing a prank that may or may not work, it was always a good idea to be able to run as fast as possible away from the scene of the crime/explosion.
Glancing over her shoulder at her pursuer, she fought the urge to yelp even as his eyes widened in startled recognition.
She'd hoped that Draco would be the one racing after her since, after all, he was a Malfoy and she was a Weasley and it was written in the stars, or possibly on paper somewhere, that the two families were destined to torment each other until the end of time or some other tosh like that.
What she'd failed to consider was the disguise doing its job and, well, disguising her from becoming the blonde's target, but also that he'd go the other way.
Poor Di, she had time to think before reaching for yet another door, only to find herself slamming forward, a surprisingly fit male body flattening against her.
"Weasley," he breathed, his heart beat somewhat elevated, and his anger almost palatable as he reached around and grabbed her wrists, imprisoning her hands before she could do anything creative like, say, go for her wand.
"Zabini," she tried to imitate his irritated tone, but couldn't keep the note of humor out, causing him to snarl as he whirled her around before pushing her back against the door.
"Weasley," he repeated, staring down at her, his expression suddenly relaxing despite the solidity of his grip. "You have a real set of brass one's."
"I prefer silver, or at the very least, gold," she replied, one eyebrow arched in snarky retaliation. "I think that we put on a rather award winning performance, after all."
Blaise Zabini was not a man of many words. His basic philosophy was summed up along the lines of 'why complete a sentence when one word will do?'. It annoyed his Professors and amused his friends, since delivering a cutdown in a single word was a skill Zabini had perfected back in third year.
Right now, though, he couldn't think of a single word to sum up in equal parts his admiration (because, really, it took guts to pull off a stunt like that and while Zabini was a Slytherin, through and through, and hellbent on getting revenge, he was a big enough aficionado of pranks to admire the complexity and simplicity of her prank) and aggravation with her, so he settled on the universal cure-all, so to speak.
"Bollocks."
"No thanks," was her chirped reply. "I've seen where they've been. Morag McDougal? Seriously? What on earth could possess a man to look past that hideous mole long enough to shag the rest of her?"
Blaise fought the urge to point on to her that the mole was on the front of Morag's face and that not every sexual position actually required you to be facing your partner, but he highly doubted that the colossus that Ron Weasley had recently morphed into would appreciate having a Zabini educate his baby sister on the birds and the bees and the different positions thereof.
As wrapped up in his own line of thought as he was, Zabini had been trained to keep his guard up and to be aware of his surroundings, so the sly look of comprehension in Miss Ginevra Weasley's face did not escape his notice.
The little chit was playing him!
"Nice try, Weasley." He felt his own grin slide into place at the flash of fear in her eyes before she tilted her head back and flexed her still imprisoned hands, her eyes on his, Snitch-quick calculation gleaming in those eyes.
"Tell you what," she finally stated after a few more moments of silence. "You let me go, and I'll…"
She trailed off, caught by the sudden heat in his eyes.
Ginny wasn't exactly a blushing virgin. Well, she was a virgin, but she'd done enough and knew enough to recognize that gleam in a man's eyes.
She saw it with her Dad whenever he looked at her Mum, with her Uncle Bors whenever he looked at his wife, Tina, and with Filch, whenever he was told, every April Fools Day, to break out the whips and chains for a celebration.
That look in a man's eyes meant one thing and one thing only.
"You'll what?" Blaise all but purred, recognizing the recognition in her eyes as he leaned forward every so slightly invading her space.
She pushed back against the car door, instinctively trying to get away from him, a process hindered by his body effectively pinning her in place and quickly closing the distance.
"Oh, no you don't," Ginny opened her mouth, loathe to let this…this…this Slytherin best her, and it was all the invitation Blaise needed.
She'd had her fair share of kisses from a variety of persons over the years. Well, four, if you counted Billy Whigham's hasty peck way back in primary school. There'd been Michael Corner at the end of fourth year, Dean in the middle of fifth, and the unfortunate debacle with Harry over the summer.
Kissing Michael had been…nice. Uninspiring, but decent enough. She'd heard horror stories from her roommates about excessive saliva production and drooling, but they'd managed to get along fine.
Kissing Dean had been a bit better, more interesting. They'd had more in common than she and Corner, and he'd made her laugh, which was always a good thing. They'd had some steamy kisses and some heavy petting, but nothing Ginny would classify as mind blowing.
Harry's kiss had been…awkward, to say the least. Having spent the summer at the Burrow, he'd been hanging around a lot and, since Ron was understandably distracted by Hermione, they'd ended up hanging with each other a lot.
An awful lot.
Kissing him had been a complete and total accident. She'd been getting some of Fred and George's old supplies from the attic, the one's they'd used for pranking that Mum had obviously forgotten about, when she'd turned around and ran right into him.
They'd landed in a heap, with Ginny landing on top of him, knocking the wind out of both of them.
It had been one of those pure romantic moments, you know the one's where it's like 'and their lips met and stars exploded' only in their case it was more along the lines of 'and their teeth clacked, sending sharp pain through each other theirs head, which was swiftly accompanied by the mental pain of having connected lips with someone you now recognized as a pseudo-sibling.'
Between the two of them they'd gone through a tube of toothpaste.
"We're never going to ever mention this moment again," Harry had informed her conversationally as he used his finger to deposit another dollop of Crest before passing the tube to her.
"Never again," she'd agreed, forgoing the finger and squeezing the tube directly in her mouth.
Kissing Zabini…
Tiny little explosions all over. Behind her eyelids, in her fingers, all the way down to her toes and everywhere in between.
And they weren't even using tongues.
Eyes closed, her other senses kicked into overdrive.
She could smell him, his cologne and underneath it, the smell of his skin, warm and sweet, like dusky chocolate on a warm summer night. She could hear her heartbeat, racing in her chest, and, with another breath, his racing in time with her own.
His skin felt like velvet, his hair like silk. She was a tornado of sensations and, through it all, she could see things falling into place.
It was like being caught in a dream. She saw him, she saw herself, and she saw the thinnest of cords stretching from her chest and burying itself in his, connecting them for now and ever.
It was that thought that had her yanking her head back and opening her eyes, her blue orbs meeting his brown, both sets wide with startled recognition of something neither of them could quite define.
"What the bloody hell?" Ginny had her wand out and aimed, Blaise whirling to place his body between her and the intruder, his own wand in a fighters position.
As one, they attacked.
Challenging Draco Malfoy had been a Bad Idea.
"What the hell-?" Di tried to jerk back the second she felt his lips touch the side of her neck, but it didn't do her a whole hell of a lot of good, seeing as he had her effectively pinned against the car door.
"Stop that!" She ordered, but without any real heat and with a very real hint of laughter.
"Never," came the somewhat mumbled reply as Draco went back to licking and nipping at her neck.
"It tickles, you bastard!" Di laughed and reached up to try and pry his head away, but before she could so much as tug, he let out a low, all too real, all too warning, growl, that had her hesitating, humor dissipating.
"Draco? Malfoy? Dude?" Another low growl was her answer.
Glancing down, she caught Draco's eye. The depths of grey seemed to have taken on a somewhat odd sheen, leaving her caught in their light like a freakin' bug drawn to a bug zapper.
Meeting her gaze, Draco made a show of letting his tongue dart out of his mouth not once, not twice, but three times against the stretch of skin that was the object of his current fascination.
And then he bit her.
"MOTHERFUC-!" Di all but roared as she felt his teeth pierce the skin. His hand came up, covering her mouth before she could finish the exclamation and she quickly returned the favor, biting down on his palm as good as she could considering she had crappy leverage and was in pain.
Still sucking at her neck like some sort of vampire, Draco let out a low, rumbling noise that Di mistook for a growl for about five seconds before realizing the nippy bastard was laughing. She muttered another expletive behind his hand, scowling down at him.
"Well, isn't this a lovely sight," came a female voice from the other end of the car. Having just entered, Di hadn't had time to spot her and warn Draco, which probably would have been a good thing, since Draco, like most members of dark pureblood families, did not like it when people snuck up on him.
The poor girl.
Having spent her fair share of time in the Headmaster's office since beginning her friendship with the irritating, though ingenious, chit named Ginny Weasley, Di wasn't particularly alarmed to find herself occupying her favorite chair, with her best mate at her side.
The two boys were a worrying addition, though.
Granted, Harry and Ron had spent their fair share of time up here. And there had been numerous temporary accomplices who'd failed to adhere to Ginny's 'Run Fast, Run Far' philosophy when it came to getting away, but this was the first time Di could recall having the victims present.
Though after what he put her through, Di was starting to feel a bit victimized herself.
"We already tried that," Ginny murmured from her left side. "The Death Glare still doesn't work."
"You never know," Di replied, crossing her arms and sulking as the annoying prat arched an eyebrow and stared smugly back at her.
She was dying to ask Ginny how she'd been caught, but Ginny had yet to look away from the delectable Blaise Zabini long enough to carry on a private conversation.
Though the swollen lips and dazed expression she'd still worn when Professor Snape dragged her in here and deposited her on the chair pretty much said it all.
Di's hand unconsciously drifted up to her neck, pressing against the bruised skin there, her dark expression intensifying. Draco watched the gesture, something akin to male pride on his face and something that suspiciously resembled possessiveness.
It was, to say the least, alarming. To say the most: no way in hell was he ever touching her again.
Besides, like it took skill to leave a hickey. Di let her hand drop back to her lap, scowl in place as she flipped him off, not that he seemed to care.
"Wanker," she grumbled under her breath but just loud enough for him to hear.
His grey eyes flashed before his lids lowered and he stared at her with bedroom eyes.
"Hussy," he shot back, voice a low purring caress to her senses. Di's eyes widened in alarm and she reached out to grab Ginny's hand, self-preservation instinct overriding her desire to appear tough and unaffected.
"Ginny," much to her embarrassed dismay, her voice squeaked on the single word.
"It's okay," Ginny struggled to reassure her, eyes never leaving the stoic faced Zabini. "They try it again and we can always kill them and claim it was self-defense."
"Why kill them?" One of the portraits on the wall murmured, his eyes following the byplay with interest. "There are so many more interesting curses that could be put to use. Did you know, for instance, that the bush people of Whacki Whacki have this curse that can make one impotent?"
"Whacki Whacki?" Di murmured, brow curled in confusion.
"Impotent?' Ginny perked right up with that single word.
"NO!" Both Draco and Blaise yelped, their eyes wide at the implied threat to their manhoods.
"It's some sort of translation, isn't it?" Di continued on, largely oblivious to her best friend's gleeful smirk and the boys' wide eyed looks of alarm. "Cause I mean, honestly, Whacki Whacki? What's their tribal pastime? Mastur-"
Dumbledore appeared, seemingly out of thin air, leading Di to the conclusion that, since apparation wasn't possible inside Hogwarts grounds, that he'd been there a while. Long enough to here her musings about the good people of Whacki Whacki.
"-bation." She finished, flushing pink as Dumbledore's bushy white eyebrows skyrocketed.
"I do believe you've mistaken the pronunciation again, my dear Philemon," he stated, addressing the portrait as he moved around them and settled himself in his chair behind the desk.
"It's not 'Whack-ee, Whack-ee' but rather 'Wake-e, Wake-e', which is entirely appropriate considering the Whacki Whacki are dream walkers. Does that answer you're question?"
Having not actually asked that specific question, but faced with the bushy eyebrowed man peering down at her with an earnest smile and neatly folded hands, all an integral part of his usual intimidation tactics, Di inched back ever so slightly, Ginny already a step ahead of her, nodding her head in enthusiastic acceptance.
"Now then, to the matter at hand, which would be…" Dumbledore trailed off, his gaze dropping to the mark on Di's neck, eyebrows raised in silent contemplation.
"Professor?" Ginny ventured after a few moments of prolonged uncomfortable silence. Di, having been equal parts too embarrassed and intimidated to speak, shot her friend a grateful look.
"Conoodling," Dumbledore finished, his gaze drifting over to the two boys, eyebrows skyrocketing as he recognized the reigning Slytherin Royalty.
"You forgot malicious assault," Draco sulked, definitely still pissed about the hair which had taken the better part of an hour for Professor Snape to undo.
"There was nothing malicious about it," Ginny protested.
"It was done to provoke harm!"
"To what? Your hair? Oh, woe is Malfoy. His hair is purple!" Ginny rolled her eyes and leant forward. "Personally, I think you look better with the purple hair."
"Nobody asked you, Weasley."
"Too damn bad!" Ginny was really getting into this whole argument thing, especially since it was completely pointless. She excelled in the pointless and irreverent. "Because I'm telling you, Malfoy, you could use a little color! I walk past you sometimes and have to double check to make sure I didn't miss your untimely death!"
Draco sneered at the littlest Weasley because, after all, it wasn't his fault the fates had graced him with a pale complexion and hair to match.
"Well at least I don't look like a carrot planted itself on top of my head!"
"It is not the color of a carrot!" Ginny was on her feet, hand going for a wand that had been oh-so conveniently confiscated by Snape before he left them. "You take that back you….you….albino!"
"I AM NOT ALBINO!" Draco was on his feet, fists clenched and face turning an alarmingly bright shade of red as he struggled with his obvious urge to strangle the spirited red head sprite.
"Children." One word had all four of them turning their gaze to the only adult in the room. "Sit down."
Sliding back into his seat with his usually sulky expression in place, Draco crossed his arms and turned his attention back to the brunette next to the red head.
He recognized Ginny Weasley, of course, since for the past couple of years he'd made a point of tormenting her and her family for no reason other than it was expected of him. He did not recognize the pretty brunette who's neck he'd been all too happy to mark up.
His reasoning was still a bit vague on why, exactly, he'd given her a hickey instead of cursing her nose off, but in a pinch, he was more than happy go with the simple explanation of embarrassment. Granted, at the time, he remembered experiencing an overwhelming urge to mark her, to claim her in a way that would be obvious to all others and to herself. Still, very few girls he knew of enjoyed such an obvious statement of their extracurricular activities.
Of course, he realized with a frown, guys like that sort of thing.
He should know, being of the male persuasion himself. A girl with a hickey was an invitation few males could ignore. It implied a certain appreciation for certain sports that men were apt to spend most of their time fantasizing about.
For some uncontemplatable reason, he wasn't too thrilled with the thought of anybody approaching his blue eyed brunette.
The word homicidal came to mind.
Di had no idea why Draco's glare had suddenly intensified, but she was happy it had. That meant he was mad at her, which lessened the likelihood of a repeat of events on the train.
Too bad, her hormones whispered, quite saddened by the loss.
Oh hush you hussies, the rational part of her mind responded. It was a good thing, no matter how much her body seemed to think otherwise.
He had to have had a lot a practice, the rational part of her brain continued somewhat cautiously, cause he knew exactly where to go and what to do.
For some reason, that pissed her off. How dare he use moves he learned necking on other girls to neck with her?
Bastard, she thought with a low growl that had Ginny swiveling her head to look at her, but her angry gaze was quite firmly locked with Malfoy's.
Blaise knew women. Having lived most of his life exclusively in the company of two of them, he understood them a lot better than he ever wanted to. The only good part of the whole thing, as far as he was concerned, was that it made it easier for him to get laid.
It made it too easy. Getting girls had ceased to be a challenge even before the summer had started. Returning to Hogwarts now in the fall, he'd been looking forward to very little, going through the motions of planning his 'rounds', but one spell from Ginevra Weasley, and all that was over with.
She'd given him the challenge he'd been looking for, and not necessarily in the bedroom.
He was still curious as to how she'd managed to get that spell through his shields.
When this little meeting was done with, he'd write an inquiry home for his mother. If she didn't know the answer, she'd find somebody who did.
He nodded to himself, secure in his plan, his attention snagged by Dumbledore's door opening, admitting Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Prefect Amanda Jones, and Prefect Gordan Hayes, who'd had the misfortune to stumble across Blaise and Ginny mid-snog.
They still hadn't managed to get his features quite back to normal Blaise was pleased to note. Between him and Ginny, they'd made Gordan's face into something that made Picasso's paintings look normal by comparison.
Oddly enough he was more pleased with her than he was with himself.
"Miss Weasley, Miss Whitmore," Professor McGonagall's lips pursed as she regarded her two most troublesome students. And to think, when Fred and George Weasley had graduated she'd breathed a sigh of relief.
"I see that we're getting off to an early start this year," her gaze drifted to the two Slytherin's and widened ever so slightly.
"Prefect Jones," Dumbledore started the proceedings with the female who'd interrupted Draco and Di. "I see your color is coming back nicely."
For once, Di couldn't claim any credit. Draco had fired off the color changing spell, leaving a very bright pink Jones gaping at the two of them. Now instead of resembling a bottle of Pepto Bismol, she was more of a baby-girl-pink. In a couple of hours she'd be back to her normal olive skin tone.
"It is," Jones agreed with a slight nod. "No thanks to these two."
"Hey!" Di protested. "For once I am completely blameless."
"Is this true, Miss Jones?" Jones desperately looked like she wanted to argue, but grudgingly nodded instead.
"It was Malfoy who cast the curse," she managed to get out through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the blonde prat, who all but preened as he admired his handiwork.
For a spell that was only supposed to last an hour, it'd held up quite nicely in the four hours since the original incident.
"In that case, Miss Whitmore, I cannot punish you for the assault on Miss Jones, however, there is the other matter to consider."
Somewhat mortified at the memory of just what she'd been doing when Jones interrupted, Di sunk low in her seat and averted her gaze to the floor to avoid any more embarrassment.
Professor McGonagall had been briefed, ever so briefly, on the events that had prompted this meeting, but it was still hard for her to believe that two of her Gryffindor's would be caught frolicking with two of Snape's Snakes.
Now, taking in Mr. Malfoy's somewhat mollified expression and the half grin on Snape's face, she wasn't quite as doubtful.
"Could we call it an accident and leave it at that?" Di offered the suggestion hopefully.
"Unfortunately, Hogwarts has a policy about public fornication."
Di choked on her own saliva as Ginny jerked her head around to stare at her best friend.
"You were fornicating with him?"
"No!" She yelled, turning to look at Draco for support.
"Tell them we were not fornicating."
"We weren't fornicating," Draco agreed amicably. "Though not for lack of trying."
Professor McGonagall gasped and it was Di's turn to jump to her feet.
"You bastard!" She lunged, surprising all of them, launching herself at Draco with arms outstretched in the optimal strangling position.
Not one to let her friend commit murder by herself, Ginny was on her feet and moving to aid when Blaise swooped in.
"Sorry, Red," he grunted as her elbow made contact with his stomach. "Can't let you do that."
"Let me go!" Ginny squirmed, twisting all around in an effort to break his hold on her.
"Mr. Zabini! Unhand her this instant!" Di and Draco had disappeared somewhere on the floor and, having born witness to the brunette's surprisingly scrappy fighting style numerous times before, magic or no magic, McGonagall was loath to interfere.
Snape had no such compunctions.
"Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus!"
Had the spell been cast by a lesser wizard, it wouldn't have done much more than irritate the two combatants. As it was, though, Snape was the third most powerful adult wizard in the school, right behind Dumbledore and McGonagall. The spell hit the two combatants, Di seconds before Draco, freezing them in mid scramble.
McGonagall quickly convinced the stoic faced Zabini that unhanding Miss Weasley was a good idea. Of course, Miss Weasley helped matters along by firmly kicking the taller boy in the shin.
"Bitch," he grunted out, limping back to his chair after carefully stepping over a frozen Draco.
"Prat," she sneered back, slinking into her own seat, scowl in place. McGongall wisely inserted her form between the two of them.
With no one else to squabble with at the moment, Ginny turned her attention to Dumbledore, who, throughout the whole mess, had quite calmly sat behind his desk with a faint smile licking a lemon drop.
"All done, then?" He perked up, popping what was left of his treat in his mouth and a delighted smile.
"As I was saying, Hogwarts has a strict policy on public fornication and public displays of affection, the latter of which was violated by all four of you."
Dumbledore leveled the two upright students with a firm look, sparing the two frozen on the ground a brief glance before settling back down.
"As such, the punishments are quite clear. Two weeks detention for all four of you. You'll receive notification on the when and where tomorrow morning by owl. Now," Dumbledore removed his wand from up his sleeve and twirled it around with a smile. "Miss Weasley, I'm going to unfreeze Miss Whitmore and the two of you will be escorted back to the Gryffindor common room by Professor McGonagall. And Mr.'s Malfoy and Zabini, when they are gone, I will unfreeze Mr. Malfoy and send the two of you to your common room escorted by Professor Snape."
"Finite incantum."
Di hated body binds with a passion. Every time someone put her in one, her nose started to itch.
Scrambling to her feet to get off of Draco, she scratched frantically at the outside of her nostril, barely paying attention as Ginny dragged her stumbling ass out of the office, Professor McGonagall right behind them.
Five minutes later, a sullen faced Draco sulked out followed by a blank faced Zabini and a half-grinning Snape.
It was a good thing Snape was bringing up the rear, because if either of the two boys had seen the smile on their Head of House's face…