Disclaimer goes here ... and has gone for the past whatevermany chapters before this. So. I own nothing. I swear. I don't lie. Not about things like this. Because. I'm... religious. So, there I said it. They should really not make people repeat themselves to many times; even if it is the truth, you get numbed to it eventually, and what if you get a sudden, undeniable, evil impulse, and decide to make a mockery of legal copyrights, and authors, and ideas .. and those people with the big bucks, and you start admitting that J K Rowling is really your god, and by extention of you dutifully worshipping her for years on end, you now have the Right to share in her glories, and say that what's hers is yours, because in the Harry Potter universe, it is not "I" that triumphs, but "WE".

Author's note: Exams. We all hate 'em. I know I do. It is one of the only sentiments that reconnects me with this world, because it seems that everyone shares it with me.

But, ASIDE FROM THAT, I have to admit that I really don't want to upload this chapter. Mainly, because it is not even remotely complete. But, on the other hand, only when I put it up will I finish it off, so... I feel like we all know each other enough by this point that none of this is going to be much of a surprise to any of you... I am A.D.D, what can I say? But. There is more pervy Draco-ness, which I'm sure you all enjoy.

Cheers!

The Chase, and that's about all, really.

Later on, of course, Ginny would find it all very odd.

At the time, however, there had been far too much red anger blurring her judgment to notice much beyond the immediate two feet or so in front of her, and the unrest of a task neigh accomplished and then brutally interrupted by an irritating, too-resistant albino pest.

Later on, she would also realize how grateful she ought to be towards said pest. But, once again, at the time she had lacked any such humility, and all too soon found herself pinned on top of Malfoy, for the second time in too-short a while, and this time, not enjoying it in the least.

The way it had all started, of course: Ginny Weasley had been determined.

Under almost all circumstances, this was never a good thing, and this particularly fine day at Hogwarts had certainly been no exception. Particularly, if one concluded on behalf of poor Ernie Macmillan. Which, surprisingly, only Draco Malfoy had been doing, at that moment, not that Ginny had had any clue.

To complicate matters further, Draco Malfoy had also chosen this very day to exhibit worrying signs of determination. This added feature was particular cause for wonder, as it did not happen often. As a result, with the combination of potential plot enhancers, it all made for very interesting developments to come. And, the universe did not disappoint.

Ginny had exited the Great Hall in a livid state of mind, nostrils flared and jetting behind the fast moving scent of Ernie Macmillan, with vendetta high on her mind. She had been so angry, she had feared bursting into tears. Her head pounded; her feet rushed with adrenalin. She kept thinking, I can not believe this; I can not believe him.

And really, she could not believe him. Even as she had punched him in the face; even as she had felt the tide of time slow around her, the realization hitting home, her body springing forward-. Even as she had chased him out the doors, squealing with fright, giving off wafts of sick memories for her to follow- Ginny could not believe that Ernie Macmillan had proven to be such a villain.

"I have not done anything!" his pitiful proclamations interrupted her thoughts.

Ginny could have almost believed that, if only the blood curdling stench of him did not assail her olfactory receptors still. Every time she breathed in, it called for Blood.

It was lucky for her that his musky perfume had caught her attention the night before, at all. Thinking about it now, however, threatened to drive her mortification to an absolute edge, since, along with noticing the particulars of his odor, there had also been far more concrete- and not to mention less desirable- parts of him that she had been forced to take note of.

Watching the ungainly sixth year desperately sprinting ahead of her, now, Ginny could not help the shiver of revulsion that had nothing to do with her embarrassment.

"You haven't done anything? Oh, you are just vile! I don't suppose to a person like you, stealing an orphan's heirloom amounts to anything! Let's see if my foot up your arse will teach you any differently!"

"What?!" he replied, now seriously panting, as he took to steps three at a time. In a distant corner of her mind, Ginny was impressed by both their fitness. But then, she remembered that she had had practice, thinking of last night. A thought which inevitably brought back to mind, just the kind of practice he had had last night, as well.

Horrid scenes of blurring, moonlit corridors; towering Snape and Filch, and flying curses assailed her mind.

The world became a dark, dark place.

"Ginerva! I am begging you! Personally!" -Had she not known of his evil heart, she might almost have imagined the villain on the verge of tears. "At least. Tell me. What. I have. DONE!" he panted.

Ginny did not even think of replying. Her anger at the fact that he clearly taunted her, tripled, which further invigorated the fire in her legs. Ernie, perhaps finally realizing that his efforts to parley were only slowing him down- and somehow speeding her up- gave a shriek of hysteria, and redoubled his own efforts at flight.

They were rounding the bend towards the third floor bathroom. Ginny opened her mouth to tell him that he was far from his Hufflepuff sanctuary now, when-

"Weasley!"

Ginny was so shocked by this new voice that she halted. Ahead of her, despite himself, Macmillian, too, skittered to a stop.

From down the marble steps, face glowing a becoming shade of red with the exertion, followed Draco Malfoy, his long legs leaping over the shining marble three at a time. Ginny failed to be momentarily stunned by the resplendent scene.

"HELGA!" came a wail from behind. "There is two of them!"

"Malfoy," Ginny spoke over the Hufflepuff's voice. "What do you want?"

Pant. "I have come- to- demand. MY WAND- back!"

Ginny was so taken aback, she actually forgot for a moment to be an insane, maniacal sort of person. "Now?"

Even Ernie seemed confused. "Does this mean, this insanity is OVER?" he called.

Which, naturally, was the wrong to thing to say. Ginny swiveled around, spurred back into action. "Only when you're ashes are blown to the four corners of the earth, you bastard!"

Ernie yelped in a most unbecoming manner. Malfoy called again, sounding oddly desperate.

"Weasley! My wand-!"

But both Ginny and Macmillian were off. There was a frustrated huff from behind, and Draco finally reached the last step, taking a pause of self-pity, and then, he too, was an active member of the chase.

"For your information, Weasley," he called, hoping against hope to have her fury soon redirected at himself. "The earth no longer has 'four corners', as disproven by the famous wizard Galileo-"

"Malfoy, your opinion in not wanted!" Ginny shot a look of, what she hoped was pure venom, behind her. Why was he following her? She could not figure it out. And while normally, this would only trouble her a very small amount, the daunting fear of having others discover Macmillians offences towards her from last night struck a note of decided unease through her heart. She would really rather not add to the list of mockeries, Malfoy had accumulated over the years about her.

This is going to be worse than the Valetine card, Ginny confided with Scarlet Fevah.

"I think they're wanted!" Macmillian squeaked over his shoulder. Ginny could barely suppress the renewed guile she felt towards him. He knew. He was trying to use Malfoy's intrusion to discourage her from her vendetta.

Think again, Macmillian, Ginny thought darkly. One Malfoy would not be enough to dissuade her so easily. Despite the fact that she would would prefer him not being witness to this, Ginny still believed that she had enough leverage over the cocky Slytherin, to allow the risk of him knowing one or two more of her embarrassments. Besides, knowing Hogwarts, the word was soon to be out anyways. The least she could do, was ensure she had an eye-witness for when she unleashed the word of how she took her revenge.

Surprisingly, Malfoy actually deigned the hufflepuff a reply. "That's because you are a pathetic nerd, Macmillian," he informed him. To Ginny's extreme chagrin, explaining: "The person who originally disproved the flat earth theory was actually my revered ancestor, Anaxagoras."

"Malfoy! I'm really losing my patience," warned Ginny through gritted teeth. They were narrowing in on another bend. Ginny thought, if she would just incline herself sharply by its curve, and maybe ready for a tackle….

"I know, I tend to lose mine too at the indignity of it. Italians are always stealing the glory of the Greeks."

"Malfoy, fuck off!"

Draco could feel her speeding up that little bit more. His muscles were beginning to burn.

If he could just stall her before the turn.... Madly, Draco's mind raced for a way out. His mouth opened, but his mind was occupied elsewhere. "And that was. The other. Thing. Iwantedtodiscuss." Pant. "This. Profanity... thing is- really becoming-" She was closing in on the Hufflepuff, and a sharp bend was coming right ahead. "-Quite unladylike."

Belated, Draco mental map of Hogwarts, and his own situation in it finally clicked. A dawning frown settling over his face, Draco wondered if either of them realized what the bend quite abruptly led to, or if his little endeavor to save one innocent soul today would end in a spectacularly miserable fail, with two- well, one innocent, and the other pretty deserving, if Draco-said-so-himself- souls dead, when they stumbled around to find no staircase attached to their platform….

Ginny's temper snapped. Approaching the bend, but still a precious few yards from it, she risked whipping out her wand.

Malfoy opened his mouth to warn her-

-Blindly, she pointed it behind her and yelled "Stupefy!"

"You know, Ginerva, I have a wand, too!" Macmillan ventured in rasping tones from now, too close, in front of her.

In the distance, there was a high pitched shriek.

"AND?" growled Ginny.

The only answer she got back was a yelp and more panting.

And she had been so close. So close, she could have reached out and grabbed the badly panting boy by the back of his streaming robes. But she had tucked her arms by her side instead, gathering up the energy to her core, readying for a mighty leap, and one last tackle. The wall rounded quite abruptly. Ginny had leaned herself into it, preparing…

There was a yell just as Ginny let go the coil of withheld energy in a spring-. Something caught at the end of her robes, but she was still flying forward. And Ernie went stock still; she was going to grab him-

And the world had finally caught up with her blurred vision.

Everything seemed to reel around, and sight no longer blocked, Ginny saw what she had all along assumed to be another tunnel-like corridor opening into a spinning abyss of shifting staircases with Ernie flailing like a rooster in flight, at the very tip. Ginny's entire being did a withdrawal, but the amount of energy she had put into her pounce had been too much, and she was going to collide into him. Except, that the something which had caught at her robes, upon dashing around the misleading curve held taunt, tugging at her shoulders and holding her back for just long enough...

Just as a staircase swerved past, right on time, and Ernie, in a show of uncharacteristic athleticism leapt over the threshold, his feet connecting with the third step, and was swept away.

Ginny's momentary stop seemed to sway under the stress of her stretching robes, and Ginny's body continued forwards. She felt a scream building up in her throat, but the horror of the dark world meeting her kept every nerve in her body in suspense. Including her arms. Her robes, now desperately holding onto some divine force began to peel away from her shoulders, sliding down her arms as she continued to, in slow motion, lurched over the edge-.

"Weasley, MOVE!"

There was something about having the most hated voice in one's world rudely demanding one to choose life over death, that did wonders to the petrified nerves. Fingers scraping the sliding material of her sleeves, Ginny clutched on at the last moment, swinging her body around and pulling.

Draco saw what was about to happen a split second before she swung around, as he prepared to grab the back of her robes, and possibly get more leverage.

Oh. Shit.

Draco's hand flung forwards at the same time as Ginny grabbed hold of her sleeves and turned around. Draco's hand was still in motion, when Ginny's eyes registered the sight before her, and body suspended at a dangerous angle, her mouth opened, but it was too late. They both watched in horror- and a touch of fascination, where Draco was concerned- as his hand fastened squarely around the center of her bosom, grabbing hold of robe, shirt and bra, and he yanked.

*

*

*

Of course, he had deserved the slap. Though she did not know it, he had the humility to realize that he had, in fact, enjoyed that, and was still enjoying it, so Draco obliged when the slap had come. He felt... charitable. Two lives saved- or not tragically ended- in the same day made Draco feel oddly endorphin-high. And the world had still held a surreal element of fuzzy colors, and general 80's sparkle effects, when he had watched the small Weasel fly towards him, thudding against his chest (his hand still clenched between her breasts), and then the world turn over, as he blissfully lost his balance, to have her land with a delightfully frustrated "oof" on top of him.

To be perfectly fair, he had almost welcomed it.

Not out of any peculiar masochistic delight, but because he had thought, once the slap came, he would be done with it. His guilt assuaged; her indignation spent, and they could move on to further things, like… her thanking him, for instance, or… her bursting into girlish tears over his manish torso, and perhaps even obliging to let him keep his hand there for a few blissful moments longer.

It was time someone besides stinking Potter got medals of valor, he had thought.

But the abuse had not stopped there.

Perhaps, he might not have been so surprised, had he known how Determined Ginny had been at the start of this episode. But, having no such dramatically ironic abilities, Draco watched with shock as her hand had come in for a second go.

And then another go.

And another.

"Uh. Weasley!" he had finally snapped, aggravated out of his blissful state. She paused to glare at him from her perch on his chest. "I think you are getting carried away."

He thought he saw one of her eyes twitch, which did not strike him as a particularly agreeable sign of her mood, and then he was slapped again. "Take your freaking hands off me, Malfoy!" she screamed in his face. There were twin spots of pink on each of her cheeks.

"Oh," Draco allowed. "That." With regret, he let his fingers unclench and the bunched up material between her breasts moved to smooth itself in a tantalizingly slow manner.

Slap.

"Stop staring!"

Draco blinked, looking up at her flushed face once more.

"Didn't I stupefy you?" she asked. Hoping, perhaps, that he would know why her aim was so lacking.

"No. Although I do believe you stupefyed Mrs. Norris." He tried smirking, but unfortunately Weaslette was too struck to enjoy it.

"That bloody cat is everywhere..." she muttered, and Draco waited patiently, vieing for the return of her lowly attentions, and secretly feeling like whore in the back of his mind.

I should not be vieing for a Weasels attentions. I am part Veela!

"And speaking of being everywhere," she turned on him, with that furious look that he was beginning to feel to accustomed to. Hello Weasel, he greeted. "Why is it that whenever anyone is in any kind of a hurry, you are always in the way, Malfoy? Why?"

Draco thought about this for a moment, before realizing that she had meant it as a rhetorical question. He raised a superior brow, in response. There was a huff from Weasley, and Draco found himself pleased with the fact that he could still exude such haughty self-assurance to miff her, in his unbecoming situation.

Still; all natural graces aside, the situation had to be rectified immediately. Not out of any particular preferance on his part. But in case she got the wrong idea... Or the right one. Mentally batting, he shushed this line of thought immediately.

"And why is it, Weasley, that you don't seem to grasp, that though you may rub on me all you like, my breed of wizard is far superior to your tattered kind, and I cannot lie with you."

For a small instant, he imagined her headbutting him in a famous show of boorish Weasley-ness. Instead, pulling her face up close to his, with eyes narrowed for intimidation, she replied coolly, "You're doing a great job of preventing that so far."

Unfortunately, for all her intent at intimidation, all this did was bring his attention even more acutely towards her delightful cleavage, now undeniably straining against his chest. Trying to ignore the part of him that insisted that he might actually be starting to enjoy this too much, though, he could not help but feel that she had a point. Why had he come all this way, again? Right, to save the Hufflepuff. Well, at least one mission was accomplished nicely today.

I meant to do this, therefore I also meant to be in this position, he reasoned with his weeping ego, hiding in some invisible corner. So, really, this is actually good. According to plan. According to skill and cunning.

After all, who else but him had managed to get under the little Weasel twice in a row?

Overtaken by a sudden fit of coughing, Draco heard Ginny lose patience above him. "Dammit Malfoy, I'm not even that pissed anymore." To prove her point, she leaned her small, painfully pointy elbow on his sternum, to support herself up.

Swallowing a yelp, Draco choked, "Am I supposed to express regret?"

"No. You should be wailing in your humiliation. Which you're also not doing." The Weasel sounded grumpy. "Nothing is going right." Then, with a dawning tone of accusation- "And it's all your fault!"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Oh, of course," he muttered. "I really don't see what you are so flustered about, Weasel. I was only saving your life."

Weasel looked uncertain for a moment. She looked like she was debating just how angry she was at him at this point, and just how much humility she was willing to show.

"I think your 'favor' failed quite miserably, Malfoy. So, excuse me for not gushing with gratitude."

Trying not to be too apparent about his disappointment, Draco allowed that at least she had considered the gratitude. Mouth twisting in a sardonic smile, he drawled, "So you mean, I am not going to be hailed by the Weasel clan and worshipped as their god?"

Weasley looked at him, as if he was a particularily sour potion she had to been forced to drink. "No, Malfoy. Try not to cry too loud in bed tonight."

Draco scoffed. "I assure you, Weaslette, some of us have better things to do."

Weasley snorted in a most unladylike manner. "Yeah? Like what, Malfoy? Drawing up hymns of Praise for the Dark Lord?"

"No," Draco bit coldly, "That is for larger gatherings at the Mansion."

Draco did not have the pleasure of seeing her response, however, as Ronald Weasley chose that exact moment to make his entrance upon the scene. The Weaslette froze in the act of lifting herself up, and found herself staring at her brother while straddling Draco.

"GIN- MALFOY?!" came his first sputtering words, washing away the last of the glitter from Draco's briefly endorphinized world.-----

Such an abrupt ending... but I really can't write anymore right now.

MAYBE A REVIEW OR TWO WOULD SPUR ME TO WORK A LITTLE FASTER, THOUGH. :D ...Nov. 27/ 09: Aside from reviews, if I could please get a survey of which quirks u wanted elaborated... I'm having a hard time segueing into my next bit, and I don't know what to do. So.. more Draco cloak stuff? more Mrs. Norris? more Dumbledore? WHAT IS IT ABOUT THIS RIDONKULOUS FIC THAT YOU PEOPLE LIKE?!? lol. thanks!