A/N: I rated this T. Please review and let me know if I should rate it M.

"Aha!" shouted the triumphant seventh year. "At long last I have caught the troublemakers responsible for the downpour in the Great Hall!" he said the last as—with a flourish—he locked the door to the broom closet that he'd heard tell was the headquarters of the Next Marauders, a small group of students that seemed to believe that the antics of the Marauders were to be copied and used on the current inhabitants of Hogwarts castle, the safest place in all of Britain from Lord Voldemort. He had verified the rumors about the Next Marauders by using a heat sensitive spell he'd learned from McGonagall. There were currently two large masses of heat in the broom closet, two people. And who could it be besides the Next Marauders? He smiled smugly; he would be responsible for capturing the so far uncapturable Next Marauders. He would be the one to finally unmask the mysterious people! Him! Him of all people! Who would have guessed that of Ronald Weasley?

Draco groaned, "Why do I have to be stuck in here with you, Weaslette?"

"Don't ask me, Ferret. I'm not the one who decided to push me off of the staircase so that you could feel guilty about hurting a girl, so you would take me to the Hospital Wing, so that you would get anxious over Ron coming down the hallway so that you could panic and push me into this broom closet right before Ron locked us in here!" she finished, her voice escalating until she was shouting at the end.

"Jeash, Weaslette, no need to yell at me!"

"Well, what are we supposed to do now, Ferret?"

"How am I always the one who has to come up with ways to get out of here?"

"Always? This is the first time we've ever been locked in a broom closet and I don't intend to do it more often!"

"Well, then, Weaslette, what do we do?"

"We, um, we…I don't know!"

"You don't know? I thought you were supposed to come up with the idea!"

"I was. I just decided that the best thing to do is to stand here until someone comes and gets us. I mean, do you normally walk around locking broom closet doors without a reason? They'll be back."

"Mm." There was silence for a few moments while Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy pondered the odds that they of all people would be stuck in a broom closet together. "Weasley," he said slowly, "why were you on those stairs? I know for a fact that your classes are all held on the other side of the school."

Ginny blushed. "I, um, I was hoping to talk to someone."

"Who?"

"A boy and it's none of your business!"

Draco smirked. "Ginny Molly Weasley! Why do you want to talk to a boy? I'm sure that if the boy in question knew about your affections—which he no doubt does—he would either be returning them, or ignoring you in an attempt to get you to leave him alone."

"Oh, I'm sure he has no clue whatsoever that I have a small attraction to him."

"So I guess it's not Scarhead?"

"His name is Harry Potter. I would hope that you would remember that," Ginny said in a low, dangerous voice. "Seeing as he is the one who continually humiliates you because you can't ever catch a snitch when it's almost sitting on your head!"

"That was one time!"

"That might be one time, but I fail to remember you ever besting Harry Potter on a broomstick."

"Be that as it may, I—even without any talent—have enough money to buy my way onto the Slytherin team! Weasley's have to make do with skills passed on from penniless Weasley to penniless Weasley." Draco knew that the remark would hurt her, but he would rather have a shouting Ginny than this quiet version.

"At least penniless Weasleys have character. Money can't buy happiness, Malfoy. I would think that you of all people would understand that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You, a rich Slytherin, can't find happiness to save your life. Us, penniless Weasleys have more happiness in one little finger, than you will know in your entire life!"

"I—I—"

"You don't have happiness!" she said as she advanced on him. "You can't even bring yourself to show any no selfish expression. I have yet to see you ever smile." By now, she was standing so close that their noses were almost touching. "Draco Malfoy," her voice broke, "I care about you, a lot. It hurts me to see you like this; so unhappy, yet so convicted that this is the way to happiness. I—I really like you, Draco." She very gently, hesitantly, kissed him. That faint touch was almost the death of him. She was almost the death of him. If Malfoys didn't faint, he would have already done so. As it was, he was contemplating the possibility. As Ginny drew away, Draco instinctively reacted, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his again. "Draco," she said after she pulled away. "I know we shouldn't be doing this. You know we shouldn't be doing this. We know we shouldn't be doing this."

"But it's so…"

"Tempting," she finished for him.

"Yeah."

"So, if the only thing stopping us is what other people think…"

"We should say to heck with the rest of the world and let us live our lives in peace!" he finished for her.

"Yeah."

"So…"

"To heck with the rest of the world." Ginny grabbed his robes and pulled him closer to her as her lips connected with his. Draco groaned and buried his hands in her hair. This is the scene Ron Weasley walked in on when he opened the door to the broom closet, triumphantly expecting to find the Next Marauder headquarters. Instead, he found his little sister snogging her—and his—long time enemy, Draco Malfoy. Obviously, he took the smart path. He screamed and fainted, leaving Ginny and Draco to face a very disgruntled Minerva McGonagall, the teacher Ronald had been fetching when he had run across a broom closet, the event that started it all.