Chapter 7: In Which Draco Is Not So Kind
Dedicated to Thatcraycraygirl, aristotlethesecond, hatebelow, ManonVarendaz, and LivingwithMuggles for reviewing! It made me so happy! I just had to write the next chapter right away! :)
For the next couple of weeks, Draco did his best to avoid Ginny Weasley. One day, she passed him in the hall and gave him a nod. After he nodded back, he quickly started walking in the opposite direction. With a start, he realized his cheeks were warm and his hands were starting to sweat. Maybe the Weasley girl wasn't afraid of him. But he was starting to be afraid of her.
The few times he did see her in those two weeks, he could see that she was changing. Her curly red hair was no longer pulled into ponytails, and she walked with a newfound confidence. All this because of a wand. And it was because of this wand that he had to talk to her again.
"Ms. Weasley, I need to have a word with you." He had just pulled her aside as he saw her walking down the hallway.
"Ms. Weasley? What are you, my professor?" she asked, her voice teasing.
"I'm uh, I'm speaking as your prefect."
She sighed. "Is this about having to keep an eye on me because you think I'm defenseless? Because that really isn't the case anymore, thanks to you."
"Exactly. Some of the students have been complaining about your hex?"
"My hex?" she asked, her voice sweet and dripping with innocence. "A person can't own a hex."
"You know what I'm talking about. The Bat-Bogey Hex. Some people have been complaining about you using it."
"Oh. Well, I only do it to people who attack me." He raised his eyebrow. She bit her lip and added, "And people who have attacked me. In the past."
He sighed. "Ginny, that's everyone."
"You told me to do it!"
"What I told you was to be discreet." He paused. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"Um, nothing. You just started calling me Ginny again."
He flushed. "Yes, well...Anyway, I don't blame you for getting revenge. In fact, I think you're finally starting to exhibit Slytherin behavior. But please, don't overdo it."
"Okay, Sir Prefect Draco." She smiled. "I feel like I haven't seen you around as much. Are you okay?"
He turned away from her warm, brown eyes. "Why do you care?"
"Well, uh." She tucked hair behind her ear. "You've been really nice to me. Ever since that day where I kind of took all my anger out on you. It was starting to feel like we were…"
"Like we were what?"
"Friends."
"Friends? We can't be friends. You're a Weasley. I'm a Malfoy." His voice sounded hollow, even to himself. It was the same mantra he'd been repeating in his head all week.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "So?"
He was quiet. He didn't know how to answer.
She turned away from him. "Fine. I guess I'll see you later. Malfoy."
Draco watched her disappear into the swarm of students walking up and down the halls. What had she expected? Maybe he had been nice to her, for a little while. Because of his prefect duties. But that didn't mean they were friends. Nothing had changed between them, not really. So why did his heart feel so unbearably heavy?
...
"Draco, not that I mind, but why have you been giving me so much attention lately?" Pansy asked, pulling away from a kiss. They were pressed against each other, leaning against the cold wall of a broom closet.
"No reason," Draco said, tilting his head back towards her lips. But she turned away.
"C'mon, Draco. It has to be something. You even held my hand yesterday."
"I just...I just realized that we never really gave it a fair shot." He was hoping that if he kept trying with Pansy, eventually she would start making his cheeks feel warm and his hands sweat. This thing with the Weasley girl had to be some kind of fluke. "Maybe...maybe you should be my girlfriend."
"Not a chance." She softly pushed him away.
"W-what?"
The smile on her face was sad somehow. "It's true that lately you've been giving me more attention than usual. In a superficial sense. But your mind is always somewhere else when we're together."
"But Pansy…"
"Figure it out. And then maybe you can ask me again. And maybe I'll say yes."
"I have nothing to figure-"
"Until then, I don't mind doing this. Whatever this is."
She gripped the fabric of his shirt again, pulling him in close again. Her lips met his, but now it felt wrong. Familiar, but cold and distorted. But he didn't pull away. Because what could possibly feel so wrong? She was his friend. She was pretty. And she was from a good family.
Draco was starting to worry that maybe the problem wasn't with her. Maybe it was with himself.
