Disclaimer-ed

Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your support. This haphazard story definitely does not deserve it, so thanks a bloody million! Every time I hear that you guys like some bit or other, I experience a mild case of "authorgasm". You're the best. I am especially appreciative of FaithfulHPreader, for the awesomeness, and the honesty when I'm starting to suck. lol.

Cheers.

Mad Potter: A Devious Plot

By the time it occurred to Draco all the reasons why it was not a good idea to be making deals with the devil, when he was already at a very low point in his student career, and due for a Death Eater initiation, he was stumbling at the top-most steps of the Marble Staircase, with a pounding ache on the top of his skull, a very warm and soft human something hanging over his shoulder, and it was far too late. Not the least of said reasons being that if he were any kind of even remotely honorable man, he would have taken the damn cloak off, laid the entire thing at Potter's feet and sought a full pardon and gotten to his bed in bliss. But some damnable cowardice had finally found him at the end of all his wit and cunning, cornered him like a bastard and left him with no choice.

So he had prayed. Again.

This time, in earnest.

Merlin, he begged, I swear to all the worldly pleasures that I cherish, if you get me out of this one, I will be good for the rest of my Hogwarts life.

Even distracted by the suddenly very real early mortality of said life, Draco did not fail to discern the pure charge of Disbelief that suddenly strained the air around him.

Alright, he conceded, how about I promise to be good for the rest of this week?

Filch shuffled closer. There was a disturbance in the darkness behind the old man, but Draco did not notice. A bit indignant at the faith the universe seemed to put in him, Draco frowned.

This night...?

Snape's breath huffed about three feet behind him.

Fine! Hell. I'll do one good deed. First opportunity that presents itself, Draco stared at the air around him in exasperation.

And then he saw it.

Filch's shadow was moving. And not insyc with him either. Taken completely by surprise, Draco squinted against the blotting fabric of the cloak and blinked several times. The shadow was not a shadow at all. Extending from where Filch's shadow streamed behind him, it wavered through the air, like a haze behind the old man, but a haze that was taller than him, with legs, and… hips? Draco's eyebrows drew together in complete bewilderment. The haze wavered and streamed to the side, so it was difficult to see, but Draco could just make out a torso, and arms and- woah! Draco nearly gasped. Settled over rippling, airy shoulders sat a massive contorted mass for a head.

Alright. Draco gulped. So I never actually expected to get an answer. He could not imagine one single magical creature in the world that might possibly fit the bill. Uncertainty trickled down his spine. On the other hand, he told himself, queasily, all of the lethal ones were part of the Malfoy Mansion collection, so he would have known about it.

The incorporeal thing shifted closer and was very soon right behind Filch. There was a pause; Filch's waving arms slowed; the breathing behind Draco hitched, and then a shriek!-

"Weeeeeeoooww!"

Draco cringed, something clawed and loud streaked past his head just as he jerked away, and collided with the too-close professor behind him.

Not waiting to make sense of the situation, Draco saw his queue to bolt in the form of a large gap, beside Filch. The caretaker's arms had dropped to his side. His face looked first shocked, then frightened, and then gripped by a rage so fearsome that Draco almost hesitated as he jumped past him. The hazy something flickered past his line of vision, as if readying to follow him. Draco glanced back just as Snape clawed at the bony mass of Mrs Norris clinging onto the front of his robes and wretch her off. Draco felt an unbidden snort of laughter burst from his mouth. Too late he clamped his mouth shut, but Filch seemed to have gotten over his shock, and whipped around. The haze froze. Draco bit his lip.

Filch's arms went around it like a clamp and he screamed in triumph, "I got him! Professor! I've got him!"

Snape glared at the screeching cat in his arms and threw it to the side, advancing towards the resisting, invisible mass in the caretaker's arms. "Good!" he barked, his face white with quiet rage. "I'll have you expelled for sure this time, Potter. Sneaking around... and near the Slytherin dormitories! What were you up to, I wonder? Planning on stealing from m-?"

"Professor! Could I-"

"Shut up!"

Draco saw Snape grab what must have been an arm, and the shimmer stumbled. Snape gave another uncharitable tug, seemingly enjoying the thought of making Potter stumble, and he bagan the lengthy process of dragging an unwilling mass away. When he had watched the resisting group move a safe enough distance from him, Draco breathed in a great sigh of relief: that could have been him!

He could not believe his luck! He had thought he was going to be trapped and caught in the worst way possible for sure this time! To imagine what the Headmaster would have done, knowing Draco had stolen his precious Potter's invisibility cloak. He would have been murdered by the Order for sure! Or worse, he could have been expelled! Expelled! What would his father do if he found Draco expelled!?

Following safely behind, Draco readied to turn the next rght towards the Slytherin common room entrance.

He waited outside the stone door for Snape's outline to disappear at the next corner, leading down to his office, when a sudden and very foreign twinge assailed his senses. Glancing towards his Head of House' retreating shadow, Draco felt the twinge intensify.

One good deed.

Gah! Draco clenched his resting hand into a fist. He hadn't expected the opportunity to come so soon. In case you haven't noticed, Merlin, he thought, I've had a rough night. I'm tired. And following the same trouble that I just begged you to save me from is the last thing I'm going to do!

But the stumbling image of the invisible-thing-with-giant-head passed through his head again. Hand raised, ready to push the stone door, he hesitated. He was so close to freedom. And it was a Merlin-sent apparition, it could take care of itself. It wasn't like it was going to get expelled. Unlike him! Snape would probably not even do anything to it.

Except bottle it up in one of his jars and use it for mad-magician experiments, interjected his hitherto undetected conscience.

Guilty pause.

With a groan in the back of his throat, Draco pushed his hand against the entrance roughly, propelling to a run after the group. Swearing under his breath, he made a quick vow to burn down the next Merlin effigy he ever passed.

He turned left at the bend, jumping down the small flight of steps, and turned another corner. It took only a couple of steps from there, around the curving wall, until he finally saw the light from the slightly ajar door of the office streaming into the hall. Slowing down, Draco inched forward.

"...doesn't matter. You will just have to be expelled invisibly, Potter. I don't much care to see your arrogant face in my office, anyhow...

"Just like your father, you are, Potter. Always think you're above all the rules, and yet terribly lacking the tact to stay out of trouble. Well fame, and manipulative charisma is only going to take you so far..."

"Could I, Professor, please,... I have the menacles ready..."

"Oh stop your sniveling, Filch! Dumbledore said no chain-torture on students! He hasn't changed his mind in the 50 years you've been begging him, why would you think it's suddenly okay now?"

Draco bit his tongue to keep from snorting. He peered through the gap and saw that Snape was no longer holding on to... Draco blinked. In the light, the apparition was no longer visible at all. Filch was standing off to the side with his arms hovering apart, eyes darting, looking even more bitter than usual.

Where is it?! Draco thought in sudden panic. If they realized that it was gone, they would bolt out and catch him here, instead. Draco wondered if he shimmered in the dark too. He had to get out of here, but... Oh bloody, bloody hell.

The air behind the gap took on a mirage-like quality, as if the heat in the room had just spiked. Draco rubbed his eyes stupidly before he realized that he was looking through the apparition and his heartrate quadrupled. Without thinking, muscles tensed, stance ready, he gave a yell and wildly flung open the door grabbed at the haze with the big head around the middle and yanked.

There was a shriek and a flash of red just off his right, but he was running, blindly, taking the steps three at a time, half dragging, half carrying the squirming flesh in the crook of his arm- wait, flesh? Another spell zoomed past him, barely missing by an inch- no time!

Turning back into the corner of the common room, Draco paused just long enough to discard the idea of waltzing through the entrance and pointing all suspicion to himself, and to fling the fleshy, surprisingly heavy, otherworldly apparition over his shoulder before he continued his blunder into the dark.

***

Ginny was going to punch Harry in the face. The moment he stopped, the moment they were safe, and there weren't murderous jets of spells flying around them- Ginny was going to kick him. She was going to hurt him. And she was going to fling him around to see how he liked people dragging him backwards up stairs, twisting him with absolutely no discretion and then throwing him unceremoniously over a bony shoulder, mid-run.

She was so mad she could have cursed him! In fact, the more she got jostled around and forced to shield herself from curses that thanks to his infinite thoughtfulness, she was facing, Ginny planned on doing just that. The moment he stopped. The moment the world stopped whirling around her. She was going to kick him in the sack.

Rapidly the dark scenery of the winding dungeons begun to lighten and windows emerged from the indistinguishable darkness that swept by her. The curses became fewer and farther inbetween as the insane boy beneath her began too slow down. Ginny felt the invisible muscles underneath her tense and coil, sliding over one another as he leapt over a flight of steps, taking them three, then two, and then an exhausting one at a time. It was an eerie experience, to say the least, because although she could feel him, all she could see was that she was rushing backwards on air, six feet into the air. The marble steps shone white under the moonlight and orientation was slow dawning on her mind once more.

The Entrance hall, she noted. They were facing the narrow steps leading to the Gryffindor tower... but then Harry stopped with a grunt, and too suddenly Ginny found herself tipped upright again, set- gently, despite his fatigue, in a very Harry-like fashion- on her feet before she heard a thump and assumed that he had fallen over, exhausted.

Her foot twitched, but his heavy breathing and the careful way he had upturned her thawed some of the icy indignation that churned inside her stomach. She was still dizzy.

A thick lock of her hair escaped the shirt-wrap still holding her head in camouflage, and slid down her face.

"Harry?"

***

Bright red hair sprouted out of nothingness a little below the bleary mass.

Draco's blood drained.

"Weasley?" he whispered, horrified, before he could stop himself. The flaming curl waved in air, mocking him.

Draco's jaw dropped. Merlin-sent apparition be damned, it was Ginny Bloody Weasley? He had just sacrificed his status as an educated member of society for Weasley? The Weasley! His newly indited arch-nemesis; the one whose fault this whole night had been?

Draco felt a sick feeling spread through him like a disease. He felt betrayed.

Note to self: Never Again.

"Harry?"

The sick feeling paused. She thought he was Potter. It was three in the morning, she was out and in hiding, alone and probably afraid. And she thought he was Potter.

Too late, Draco attempted to fix his mistake.

"Giner.. .? Ginny!"

Silence.

"... Harry?"

Draco frowned. How long did introductions take with these people?

He decided to settle for a non-committal reply. "Er."

"Did you just call me Weasley?"

"No," he answered too-fast.

"Harry?"

"-Potter. Yes, Gin, that's my name. It's only about the world's second most famous name ever." He tried hard to keep the sneer from his voice but a little still managed to leak through. Weasley didn't seem to notice.

"Second most?" She sounded bemused. "What's the most famous?"

Draco hesitated. Draco was tempted to say "Salazar Slytherin," but a niggling suspicion told him that it might be pushing his luck. "The Dark Lord" seemed a bit redundant, and "Dumbledore" was like selling his own soul. Besides, he didn't think answering and then hurling vomit all over the floor would have been too convincing.

"Um. The... Weird Sisters," he said, trying to inject an implicit "duh".

"Uh. Huh." She sounded unconvinced. Maybe Potter didn't like The Weird Sisters?

"Not that I like them," he added, just to be safe.

Silence.

Maybe Potter didn't like music? Stupid Potter, why did he have to pretend to be that snarky prat, anyways?

Because it's karma for knocking him unconscious and stealing his most prized possession.

Draco snarled. Oh, stuff it Conscience. Who asked you?

"So..." Draco continued, pretending he was oblivious to the suddenly thickening air, but beating around for something to fill it with, nonetheless. Finally, he adopted what he imagined to be a Potterish benign tone and said, "I imagine a thank you is in order."

The air around him froze. Draco's feigned ignorance faltered. The disillusionment charm was wearing off and he could see one bright outline of a pink bra slowly materializing. Eyebrows jerking he stared harder. Was she ... shirtless?

"Excuse me?!" she yelled shrilly.

Draco jumped, looking up guiltily. What?

"Uh. You're welcome," he said. Again, without thinking.

"UGH!" Something hard hit him in the knee."Ow!" he cried out, looking up affronted.

"You arrogant prick! Snape almost had me there because of you and you think I'm going to thank you?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. That was rich coming from her. "No," he shot back incredulously, "Snape did have you, and I saved you're... you. So, yes, I think I do deserve a thank you!"

"The only reason he had me at all was because I saved you!"

Draco scoffed. "I would hardly consider it saving, if you had to be saved back." Damn Potter for spoiling the lazy chits. What the hell did they think he was, a god?! Even gods required a thank you. And they certainly did not need rescuing. Blatantly refusing to acknowledge the insistent memory of his own pleas for help, Draco spat: "Besides, I don't recall ever asking you to save me." Weasel.

If he had known his little "good deed" oath to the old Druid would have come back to bite him in the arse, he would never have signed up. Scowling at her bleary outline, Draco once more noticed her giant head. "And what the hell is wrong with your head?"

There was another sputter of indignation and then one wanded hand shot up to claw at the massive head. Something fluid seemed to slip off and almost too suddenly Draco blinked and found himself facing a red faced Weasley with flying hair, pink cotton bra, threadbare bottoms, holding a knotted blue shirt in her fist and death in her eyes. But luckily, glaring at the air about two feet away from him

"You're being a total bastard, Harry!" Draco smirked an invisible thank you, but found his gaze stuck to her lightly glowing middle.

And you are surprisingly not freckled, Weasley, he replied silently, entranced by the very light sprinkle leading, like a crump trail, down her navel. How had he never known about this? he thought, one eyebrow slowly rising. A pleasant wave of lechery washed over him like an old friend.

Sparing a glance up to her furious face, Draco was momentarily at a loss for what to say.

"It's not my fault you decided to go for a turban look. I don't see how that makes me a bastard."

"Not that, you idiot! You put me in the bloody line of fire when we were getting away. I had to shield like a million curses, protecting your inconsiderate back. I can walk you know!"

"Yeah," he relied, deadpanned, "and and we needed to run."

"So you decided to drag me?"

"Um, actually, I do believe I carried you, Ginerva. No easy feat, that, either, since you don't exactly weigh a stone. Even without the turban."

Ginny flushed. "Like you could carry a stone."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Great, so we're resorting to cheap shots, now? 'Cause while we're at it: you're fat Weasley."

Ginny's eyes went wide and her hands shot around her middle. Draco couldn't hold back a cackle.

"And you have boney shoulders! Nearly impaled my spleen while you were running."

Draco's gasp, luckily, was one of muted horror. Glad for the invisibility he reached up to reassure himself of the falsehood of her words.

"And you called me Weasley, again. What's wrong with you tonight, Harry? Why are you being so cold?"

Draco stared up at her as if she had gone insane. "What's wrong with me? You come here, ruin my night, practically sign my papers out of this place and kick me, kick me like," he sputtered, still appalled,"like some kind of wild woman! And you're asking what's wrong with me?"

"Why do you sound like some douche from Slytherin? Or have you just changed that much since Cho happened?"

Draco eyebrows lifted at that. Well, well, some Gryffindor angst, was this? He decided to snoop.

"Not bitter, still, are you, Gin? " Draco tried hard to keep out the malice from his naturally malicious voice. He did not want to sound like "some douche from Slytherin". He knew the douches from Slytherin, and that was definitely an insult. Besides, his father had long ago taught him that digging dirt on people required tact.

Visible hurt flashed across the small features of the half-nude girl before him, and she looked at his general direction as if she could not believe what she was hearing. Draco felt the now familiar, unfamiliar twinge in his stomach again.

"Er. I'm sorry, that wasn't fair. I didn't realise it was true." Draco shut his mouth and kicked himself again. The hurt look deepened on her features.

What was that about tact?

"Because," he blundered on, panicking, "I never thought that you wouldn't know... that, uh, how I really feel about you!" Momentary relief at having successfully walked through that sentence washed through and then leaked right out. Draco was acutely aware that he was fast treading into very perilous territory.

Ginny frowned. "What?"

"Um." Draco thought fast. Why was he so bad at this? Why couldn't he be as eloquent as he normally was, bullshitting out of his arse to every girl that passed by him. Because you have never bullshat about someone else's life, and never at two in the morning. Draco smirked. Oh yeah. He usually had everything taken care of by two in the morning.

One defined, red brow lifted. "Um?"

Draco thought fast. If he were Potter what would he say? The claustrophobia of being cornered by the big-eyed disapproval of Weasley suddenly eked away, as a devious thought implanted itself in his mind.

If he was Potter...

Dispite the fact that she couldn't see him, Draco pinned her with his most earnest gaze, and whispered, "Look... Ginny. I think I'm in love with you, okay?"

***

If emotions could hiccup, Ginny's just belched.

"WHAT?!"

Ginny felt her face exhude heat. She almost expected the cool night air infront of her to get misted, but mocking her, it remained as clear as ever. One minute she had been feeling as fluttery as a strolling dragonfly on the eve of a rainstorm- the next she felt like she had just swallowed something slimey and positively unedible.

Ginny wished the ground would just open up and swallow her. Harry didn't love her. He couldn't love her. Sure, she had a crush on him for like ever, and she practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and she couldn't stop staring at him most of the time, and she had told Tom Riddle that she loved him, and written him her fair share of "Be my Valentine" poems. But he couldn't love her! That was just wrong.

Especially, because now that the words were out, and her own reaction was actually becoming apparent, she realized that she definitely did not love him.

It was like watching Ron snogging all over again. Ginny felt like the little girl who always wished to be mommy and marry daddy, suddenly put into the mind-frame of a 20 year old, with all her wishes come true.

"Er... I thought you would like to hear that?"

"What? No! Ew. Harry, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean "ew", ew, but like ew. You're my Daddy!" she flinched, appalled-"No! I mean, like my dad. Er. Brother. You're like my brother. Not Daddy, I was just thinking, um, nevermind. I don't... uh... this is awkward."

There was an eerie silence that followed her incoherence.

"But, Ginny, I reeally love you."

Ginny felt her skin crawl."Um, I'm sure Harry, b-"

"And I was thinking, this Christmas, of asking you to become my wife." Though he sounded casual enough, there was something choked about his voice now. Ginny, now completely taken aback wondered if he was close to tears. I'm making the Savior of the Wizarding World cry? Ginny was mortified.

"Oh... oh?," she replied faintly. What the hell? She wasn't going to get married. Had the Chosen one finally gone bonkers? He clearly had, but her own brother was excited. Surely, they only humoured him because he was out of his mind. Surely the whole end-of-the war thing would set everything straight, but oblivious to the complete incredulity now mixed with a green-tinted nausea etching across her features, he continued, his voice strangely tight; "Yes, and we could live in a mansion, that I will build with my bare hands. You can come there immediately after graduatation. I'm sure W- Ron wouldn't mind." Pause. "Actually, I have talked to him about it, and he is very excited."

Despite herself, Ginny felt her eyes go round. She didn't want to break his heart, but the panic in her system suddenly threatened to implode. Ron was excited? Everyone knew? What was this nightmare?!

Something frightfully large lodged itself at the back of her throat. Oh, no, what was she supposed to do now? She couldn't exactly break the Boy Who Lived's heart. What if he lost his will to fight Voldemort because of her? What if he told Ron? What if mom finds out! ?

Ginny's face turned, if possible, even redder. I think I can safely say, that this is the worst night of my life.

Hermione! The thought shot through her like an arrow. She had told Hermione about her infatuation and she had told them all that Ginny approved of the idea.

Oh my god, I am arranged to marry a lunatic, and it's all my fault. And I'm not even 16 yet.

Ginny gulped. If only he weren't invisible.

And then, he didn't really need to be visible, because cool snaking hands glided out of nowhere, around her rigid waist. Ginny squeaked in horror, but still had no idea what to say, when a hard lean body circled around her and then pressed against her from behind.

His musky fragrance swirled and Ginny felt positively lightheaded. Atleast he smelled nice. Ginny took a deep breath and let it out too-fast when the hand on her tummy began to move. A rough, sensuous finger circled her bellybutton and Ginny was hard pressed- literally- not to turn around and smack him in the invisible face. The insane words "married", "mansion", and "approve" kept spinning in her head.

"Harry..." she whispered, in an embarrassingly wavery voice. "You're being weird. Can you stop?"

"Stop what?" said a voice beyond the shadows. Ginny and the body behind her froze. She blinked. The hands around her immediately dropped, and Ginny spun around, and saw, from the darkness emerging the very visible form of Harry. For a couple of seconds, nothing made sense. "Harry? How did you-?"

A faint thump at the bottom of the marble stairs told Ginny all she needed to know. Something cold trickled into Ginny's stomach.

"Ginny? Why are you naked in the middle of nowhere?"

The newly receeded blood from her cheeks rushed back as Ginny turned to look at Harry, horror dawning on her. Harry wasn't inlove with her. Harry was there. And visible. ... Then who the hell have I been talking to for the past hour?

"Ginny?"

Why was she naked? She didn't know. Oh my god, someone was just touching me, naked, and I don't even know who it was. I am soooo humiliated! Ginny tried to reply but found her throat completely closed up. Then she remembered the faux-Harry's choked voice and realized that it had not been tears, after all. The bastard had been laughing at her!

A surge of humiliated anger lashed through her system, and Ginny's eyes narrowed on the unassuming, and positively bewildered, if not bashful, Harry in front of her. With purposeful steps, Ginny strode forward, grabbed both sides of his collar, stepped in and took a giant whiff. Harry's eyes widened, expression scandalized, "What-!"

Ginny let go. Peppermint and grass. Of course.

"Harry," Ginny asked slowly, "Where is your invisibility cloak?"

Ginny watched a creeping blush spread over Harry's cheeks.

"Uh... I lost it?"

Review Me Please! Anything that will help me along for the next chapter would be fabulous!