Title : Wednesday Afternoons
Author : Booster
Rating : 15, for swearing
Summary : Draco and Ginny run into each other in a secluded part of the Hogwarts grounds. (DM/GW) Pure fluff for Mynuet's Hourchallenges.
Disclaimer : Draco, Ginny and the grounds of Hogwarts belong entirely to JK Rowling.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, FanFiction.Net, Fire and Ice; If anyone else wants it, just email and ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Normally Wednesday afternoons for the fifth years at Hogwarts were filled by double Potions, and Charms. Unfortunately this week, things were different. The recent accident in Potions with Neville Longbottom's latest and greatest potion ingredient mix-up had resulted in the side of the castle being blown out, and the Charms classroom two floors up being closed while Hagrid and Dumbledore discussed the repairs.
As it was, despite Professor Snape's best objections, the various classes scheduled (which were mainly the fourth and fifth years) had been given the afternoon off, and encouraged to go out into the Hogwarts grounds in the lovely March sunshine.
Thus it was that one Draco Malfoy happened to literally bump into one Ginny Weasley in a quiet and infrequently visited area of the grounds. Ginny's reasons for being there were somewhat higher than Draco's (who, noticing Hagrid's preoccupation with shoring up the castle walls, had taken advantage of the situation to dump Crabbe and Goyle, and go nosing around the parts he was not normally allowed in). Ginny, on the other hand, had just followed a butterfly.
Coming round a corner among the trimmed hedgerows, Draco strode confidently forward – and straight into a redheaded female. Falling to the ground together, the two of them ended up somewhat tangled together.
Finally disengaging himself from his attacker, Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at…. "Weasley?"
Big brown eyes stared up at him from the floor in shock and surprise. All underneath the flowing red locks of that damned Weasley hair. "I… I… Malfoy?" she squeaked out.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, scrambling to his feet and hurriedly putting his wand away. "Don't you know this area is only for sixth years up and staff?"
Her cheeks flamed an interesting color that wasn't quite the same as her hair, squeaked again and turned to flee. "Wait!" called Draco after her, "That's not the way out!"
He put his face in the palm of his hand. Gods above, why him? Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? If she ran into anyone and told them that she'd met Draco in the Italian Garden area, he was as sunk as her. Somehow he had to find her and persuade her not to say anything.
He strode, almost happy to have a definite plan to work with. Now which way had that cute butt run off to?
He stopped, and mentally reviewed.
He had not, had not, had not, had not just said that Ginny Weasley had a cute butt. No way. No how. No Weasleys had cute butts. He concentrated for a moment on Ron Weasley, Fred Weasley and George Weasley. There, much better now.
Now which way had the little darling gone?
Ginny stopped behind the nearby bush and panted as quietly as she could, desperately trying to get her breath back. Why, oh why had she just done that? Her, Draco Malfoy and a deserted area of the gardens. Damn his high cheek-boned face, his piercing grey eyes, his…
Whoa. She did not like Draco Malfoy.
He was an arrogant bloody Sytherin who thought the world owed him everything on a silver plate (buffed and polished, naturally), and cute blond hair that she'd love to run her fingers through-- "Oh dear," she said, and finding that to be somewhat inadequate to expressing her feelings, followed up with "Oh….Fuck!" in a louder tone.
Fuck. That felt good. "Fuck." She experimented further, feeling more free than she'd ever felt before in her life.
"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuckity fuck." Who would ever have thought swearing was that liberating?
Then Draco, who'd been following the trail of 'fuck's through the garden air, stuck his head through the bush and stared in amazement at her. Which, of course, left one thing to say.
"Fuck!"
Draco stared at the foul-mouthed creature before him. What was it, and what had it done to Ginny Weasley? Was it some sort of strange warped Boggart? "Ginny?" he enquired gingerly.
She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and looked him straight in the face. "Yes?" she coolly enquired.
Draco blinked. This was not going as his imagination had rehearsed it. He poked her shoulder gently with his wand, and was rewarded with one of the filthiest looks he'd ever seen. And he'd been around Narcissa for his entire life.
He blinked again. "Ginny?" he tried again.
She rolled her eyes, and said, in a most dry way "You already said that."
Where was the frightened girl he'd been looking for? Who was this delightful and disturbing woman in front of him? And why wasn't he as bothered now as he would have been only 10 minutes ago. "I came looking for you," he said, trying to match her matter of fact tone.
"Obviously," she sneered back at him. Sneered! At him! A Malfoy!
Draco stepped closer to her, his grey eyes flashing with delight that she was making him work for it. He was so tired of just getting his way around all the Sytherins. Only Potter and his cronies had given him a similar thrill of the fight before. But Ginny Weasley… now this was different.
"We should be going," he said, head almost level with hers, staring into her face. "Before the sixth years leave their lessons."
"And what then? Will the great Draco Malfoy get in trouble?" Ginny answered back, still not quite believing she was doing this. She'd never spoken back before. To anyone not family. She was always the good girl, the only girl. But now she felt energized, different, stronger. "If I'm not supposed to be here, then what about you?"
Bugger. She'd figured it out. Draco's stomach sank, and his brain switched into overdrive, desperately trying to think of some way to stop her telling.
"And let's face, Malfoy – who are the teachers more likely to believe? You, trouble maker Sytherin Prince? Or me?" Ginny smirked in triumph, finally convinced that this time she held all the cards, and had the upper hand.
Which is why she was totally unprepared for the ravenous kiss that Draco landed on her mouth.
Thoughts flashed through Draco's mind, quicksilver and too fast to follow. He was lost in the sensation of the moment, not knowing, not caring that this was a Weasley that he was kissing deeply and passionately. Why he was doing it, he still wasn't entirely sure, but he knew one thing: she was kissing him back and hard as he was.
Ginny, for her part, had her eyes wide open, drawing in every iota and jot of information, freezing this moment in time and memory forever. She was kissing Draco Malfoy. She was loving it. She was lost in the emotion, the feelings, the sheer power of it.
The moment finally ended, and they separated, desperately trying to suck air back into their lungs. "Why, why did you do that?" Ginny gasped.
"Well, I…" Draco said, flustered, before inspiration struck. "I can truthfully say now that I was in here kissing Ginny Weasley if anyone ever asks. Or ever finds out that I was here."
"It was all just… a ploy?" she asked, feeling her newly discovered heart start to crack.
"…….Not all of it," Draco admitted, finding it strangely difficult to lie when looking into those brown eyes.
"Well then," Ginny murmured, "I guess I'll be back here again next Wednesday afternoon. I wonder what I'll find that time…"
End?
