It was raining buckets outside that Friday. Ginny hesitated in front of the main doors, not sure whether or not she should go to Care of Magical Creatures. There was no way that they could have class out there, but Kettleburn hadn't said that it was cancelled. Knowing him, they did have it, but it was pouring…

"Scared of a little rain, Peverell?"

Ginny whirled around to see Abraxas Malfoy standing behind her, looking rather amused. Charlie, who'd been sleeping in her arms, opened his big brown eyes and started fighting to get to him.

With a glare in the direction of the traitorous puffskein, Ginny handed it over to Malfoy and muttered, "So we do have class today. I was hoping differently."

The Slytherin shot her a disarming smirkle.

"Kettleburn doesn't cancel class. Although, if the rain is too much for you, you could always pretend to be sick."

He was challenging her, and even though Ginny was more than tempted to fake sick, she knew that she couldn't back down from a challenge. Especially not when said challenge came from a Malfoy.

"No. I'm fine," Ginny said, and the two of them started out of the castle together. The rain was harder than she thought, thick enough that it was difficult to see where she was going. There were several times when she almost fell into one of the huge mud puddles that were already scattered across the grounds, but she always managed to catch herself just in time.

Malfoy didn't seem to be having half as much trouble. At least he wasn't slipping every three seconds like she seemed to be… But then he got cocky and started walking faster. Ginny had just opened her mouth to ask him to slow down when he lost his footing. For a second, it looked like he was going to regain his balance, but then Charlie jumped out of his arms, and the Slytherin fell backwards in surprise. Straight into a deep mud puddle.

He let loose a long stream of curse words, and Ginny started laughing so hard that she could hardly breathe. It was just so funny, the great Abraxas Malfoy sitting in a mud puddle, soaking wet, with dirty water splattered across his face.

"It's not funny when it happens to you," he said indignantly, trying and failing to look really mad.

"But it didn't happen to me, so-" Ginny started, then bit off her words when he grabbed her hand and pulled her down with him. She opened her mouth to scream, but Malfoy dropped a handful of gooey mud on top of her head before she got the chance.

"Is it funny now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She tried to speak several times, but was too angry for words.

Oh... he was in so much trouble.

"No," Ginny finally sputtered. "But this is."

Then she took a handful of her own mud and smeared it in his face. He disgustedly spat out a mouthful of dirt, and his eyes hardened to the point that she was worried he was genuinely mad. At least until she felt an icy cold hand pull her robes away from her neck, then drop a glob of mushy mud down the front of her shirt.

"And so is that," he said, his blue eyes glowing through the rain.

"You are so going to regret-" she started, but she was cut off by an evil-sounding chuckle. Uh-oh. She knew that laugh. Kettleburn.

The redhead looked up immediately, blushing when she saw the grizzly professor hobble over to them, holding Charlie loosely in his arms.

"Can I ask why the two of you are not in class?" he asked lowly.

"Er. We tripped and fell," Ginny said hastily. "We were just going to-"

"Leave. We are having class in Hagrid's hut, and you aint going to go mucking it up. I want an essay on your puffskein's behavioral habits by Monday, Miss Peverell. And twenty points from both of yer houses."

Then he dropped Charlie into Malfoy's arms before limping off. Ginny swallowed and tossed a nervous glance in Malfoy's direction, sure that he'd be steaming. Instead, he was smirking. The prat was having fun! Stupid arse.

"What are you so happy about?" Ginny grumbled. Malfoy carefully pushed himself to his feet, not taking his shining eyes off of her as he did so.

"Making you angry is worth losing twenty points over," he said. He held out a hand to help her up with. "Easily."

Ginny stared at his hand for a moment, then shook her head, choosing to get up herself.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, already starting to walk away from him. The stupid Slytherin wouldn't leave her alone, though. Within seconds, she felt him fall into step next to her.

"Thanks for the compliment, Peverell. I never knew you were so sweet."

He was being sarcastic, but in a friendly, teasing kind of way. The thought made her want to smile, but that would be letting him off easy. No way was she going to be friendly to him after he got her so filthy.

She kept walking and ignored him.

"I see. So that's how it's going to be. You know, Helga Hufflepuff would be pretty pissed at you right now. You're not being cheerful."

"I'd be more cheerful if you jumped off a cliff."

His deep, smooth chuckle rang out from behind her, and when Ginny turned to look at him, he was a heck of a lot closer than she'd expected. Merlin, he was beautiful, even with mud smeared all over his face and soggy hair hanging in his eyes.

"Jump off a cliff? I'm assuming that you mean with you, into an ocean, with very little clothing on." Ginny opened her mouth to tell him off, but he held up his hands, his smirk getting even bigger. "Don't deny it, Peverell. I can see it in your eyes."

Then Ginny blushed because something along those lines no doubt was written in her eyes. Annoyed at how much Malfoy affected her, Ginny stomped on his foot, said, "I'm not even dignifying that with a comment", then tromped off into the castle.

…

That night, Ginny headed down to the Hufflepuff common room to wait for Mason. He hadn't asked her to, but there was no way she was going straight into the snake's den without any backup.

The prefect wasn't quite ready when Ginny arrived, so she settled into a comfy chair across from Allison and listened to her friend talk about her older brother's evil wife.

"She is such a b-witch," she complained. "I mean, I couldn't even be a bridesmaid at the wedding. She said I would get too into it. Really? I don't get too into stuff."

"Er, maybe, kinda," coughed Ginny, really quickly. Allison glared at her and put a hand on her hip, suddenly turning rather frightening.

"Like what?"

"This conversation."

"Doesn't count."

"Your crushes. Riddle-" Allison shook her head furiously.

"Everyone has a crush on him. That doesn't count." Ginny opened her mouth, but Allison quickly said, "And no Malfoy either. You two clearly have a thing, so he's off limits."

"But- Hey! Malfoy and I do not have a thing," said Ginny sternly, even though her bright red cheeks told something completely different. But they didn't have a thing. She just had a tiny, practically non-existent, unimportant crush on him. It was absolutely nothing.

"Of course you don't," Allison said dismissively.

"You're making a big deal out of this, too."

The blonde opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again and quickly looked anywhere but forward. Ginny turned around confusedly, furrowing her brow when she saw Mason standing behind her.

Right. Allison was frightened of Mason. Whatever. She had a Head Boy to impress.

Allison's strange aversion to her friend could wait until later.

"Sorry. I gotta go," Ginny said hurriedly. "I'll come down here tomorrow to do homework or something before my patrol. See you, then."

"Yeah, see ya," Allison muttered, but she didn't seem into it. Ginny gave her a concerned look, but the other Hufflepuff was too busy studying her nails to notice. The Head Girl shook off her concern and hopped out of her seat.

"Hey, Mason," Ginny greeted as she joined him. "Ready?"

Mason looked almost as distracted as Allison, but he forced a smile and nodded.

"Good," Ginny said, and the two of them headed out of the common room. Ginny tried to start a conversation, but soon figured out that it was completely useless. Mason McCreery didn't do small talk. The rest of the walk passed in silence.

Slughorn's giant office was nearly empty when the two Hufflepuffs arrived, with only a few Slytherins scattered randomly around the room. Riddle was there, though, staring at something intently… Ginny followed his gaze, grinning when she saw a head of brown hair talking to Tyler Avery.

Bryce Mulciber was back, and even though some of the skin on his face was still red and puckered, it wasn't half as noticeable as before. Probably feeling her eyes on him, he looked up and met her gaze, then nodded almost imperceptibly before returning to his conversation.

"Oh, I'm so glad that he's-" she started, but Slughorn's booming voice cut her off.

"Orion! It is nice to see you here tonight. I was wondering if you were going to come." Ginny turned to see the potion's professor greeting what she guessed to be the majority of the rich half of Slytherin. Orion and Walburga Black entered first, holding hands. Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black were next. Then Cassiopeia, followed by another half dozen well-dressed Slytherins.

Ginny was extremely tempted to talk to Malfoy, but was scared enough by the fact that she wanted to talk to him that she ran over to Riddle instead. His eyes narrowed when he saw her, but his polite mask didn't crack a bit.

"Hello, Riddle," Ginny said cheerfully, leaning against the wall beside him. He stiffened but did not move away. "You look lonely."

"More like peaceful," he muttered under his breath.

Ah, such a joy, Tom Riddle is.

"Well, you shouldn't be peaceful here," Ginny argued. "It's a party. You're supposed to talk and have fun. To dance. Come on, Riddle. Live a little. You should come dance with me."

Did I just ask the freaking Dark Lord to dance?

She took in the incredulous look on his face and internally nodded.

Why, yes. Yes, I did.

Dumbledore would owe her when she got back to the future. Owe her big. She was really going above and beyond in this whole mission thing.

As she expected, Riddle sneered at her and said, "No."

Ginny was tempted to leave it at that, but she knew that there was a pretty good friend-making opportunity right in front of her, and it would be stupid to pass it up, so she pulled a stunt that any Slytherin would be proud of.

"Actually," she said, sounding a hell of a lot braver than she felt, "If you don't accept my invitation now, I will ask you loudly enough for everyone to hear. Then you will have to accept for fear of harming your delightful little image if you do not."

Oh, if looks could kill, Ginny was pretty sure that she would be dead at that moment. As it was, Tom Riddle had a reputation to keep up, and she knew that as well as he did. After closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the Head Boy nodded tersely.

"Very well, Peverell. If it means that much to you," he said bitingly, standing up and leading her out to the middle of the room, where several Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw couple were trying to dance to Slughorn's terrible jazz music.

How did one dance to jazz?

Ginny had no idea, and it didn't look like the Dark Lord was any better off, so she awkwardly positioned her hands on his back and fidgeted, waiting for him to do something. He gave her a glare that said he thought she was a complete moron.

"Why in the hell did you want to dance, if you have no idea how?" he hissed under his breath.

"I wanted to gaze soulfully into your eyes," Ginny shot back sarcastically, hoping it would make him stop asking questions. Thankfully, it worked. The two of them fell into an unsettling silence as they swayed back and forth, shuffling their feet clumsily along the floor. Riddle kept his hands hanging at his sides, which made the whole thing even more uncomfortable.

Ginny was starting to realize that maybe dancing to jazz music wasn't the best way to get the Dark Lord to loosen up, when Riddle commented, "People are starting to stare. You should at least make an attempt at conversation."

When Ginny looked, she saw that he was right. Malfoy was burning a hole into her back, Cassiopeia and another Slytherin girl were pointing and whispering, and virtually all of Riddle's cronies were gaping at him in disbelief.

"Right," Ginny said awkwardly, glancing at Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. He didn't think she actually liked Riddle, did he?

Riddle raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for her to say something, so Ginny blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Mulciber looks better, doesn't he?"

"Yes," said Riddle coolly. "He does."

More silence. Ginny kind of felt like she was dancing with a scarecrow, with the way that Riddle was just standing there, moving very, very little.

"Er. I'm trying to think of something to make this less awkward, but I have a feeling that you'd think most of what I say is stupid."

"At least you're smart enough to realize that," Riddle said dryly.

Then the song ended. Ginny took her hands off of Riddle's back and stepped away, doing her best not to scurry back to Mason like a lost little animal.

"Thanks. Even though I forced you into it," she said. Her politeness felt fake to her, but it appeared that Riddle was full of himself enough not to think so. At least he didn't give her any glares or death threats before he stalked away.

Ginny watched him leave, took a deep breath, then took off for where Mason was sitting in a corner, looking rather bored.

"Should I be sorry that I left you?" she asked, plopping down on the floor next to him. He looked at her with his really big, really brown eyes, and shook his head.

"No. But why Riddle?"

As in 'Why would you go out of your way to dance with someone who obviously makes you very miserable?'.

"Because I don't want the Head Boy to hate me," she said with enough conviction that it sounded almost true. Mason shook his head, clearly not believing her, but refrained from asking questions. The two Hufflepuffs fell into silence.

After a few minutes of watching Slughorn chug wine, Slytherins exchanging glares, and Gryffindors and Ravenclaws trying to dance, Abraxas Malfoy said something that evidently made Cassiopeia Black very, very mad, and then started over to where Ginny and Mason were sitting.

Ginny was very annoyed by the fact that his approach made her heart beat a little faster.

"Tell me, Mason," Ginny whispered, "does Malfoy have any terrible secrets I don't know about?"

Mason looked between her and Malfoy and shook his head.

"Not half as many as some Slytherins." Mason's eyes went to Riddle when he said that, and Ginny shivered. Something gave her the impression that Mason knew a lot more than he was supposed to. She wanted to ask him where all his information came from, but Malfoy was in front of them before she had the chance.

"Dance with me?" the blond asked, giving her a stunning smile. Ginny gaped at him.

"This isn't some evil Slytherin plot to amuse your friends, is it?" she asked.

Malfoy didn't look offended by her distrust of him at all.

"With any other Hufflepuff, it would be," the blond said carelessly. "But seeing as you could take a hundred points from Slytherin…"

"You're not that stupid," Ginny beamed, taking his proffered hand and letting him pull her to her feet. Malfoy didn't let go as they walked towards where the others were dancing.

Unlike Riddle, Malfoy didn't act like touching her would burn his hands off, and he actually smiled, which Riddle really needed to learn how to do. It was fun too. No awkward shuffling, but a lot of jumping and spinning and moving back and forth. Swing dancing, Ginny realized eventually.

By the time that the song was over, Ginny was laughing and smiling and totally in love with the way people danced in the forties. It was even better because Malfoy's warm hand had been settled on her waist nearly the entire time.

"That was fun," said Malfoy breathlessly. "At the balls my father has, we do nothing but slow dance. It was nice to do something different."

Ginny looked at him strangely, and without really thinking about it, found herself saying, "You don't act very much like a rich Slytherin. I mean, with the mud fight, dancing, even just being nice to me... Can I ask why?"

Malfoy smirked at that, moving slightly closer to Ginny so that she could hear his response over the music and chatter. Ginny didn't mind at all. He smelled really good, like rich guy. Leather and spice. It was addicting.

"The rich Slytherins act like they do because they worry about people's opinions. The poor ones follow Riddle. Both options entail being under someone else's influence, which I think is completely stupid."

"So you do whatever you want instead?" Ginny asked, surprised by how surprisingly reasonable his answer was.

"Within reason," said Malfoy. "For example, I have no problem dancing with an interesting Hufflepuff, even if my friends call me an idiot for it. Although… I may want to talk to Cassiopeia Black before she throws a hissy fit. Tomorrow, Peverell?"

Ginny nodded, her stomach erupting in butterflies at the smile he was giving her.

"Yeah," she said, doing her best to keep her voice calm. "Tomorrow."

Then Malfoy walked off to talk down a steaming Cassiopeia, and the party went downhill from there. Cygnus wouldn't stop laughing about Mulciber's 'fucked-up face', Orion and Stefan Warrington were accusing Tyler Avery of blowing up Stefan's cat, and several drunk Gryffindors started singing God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff extremely off key.

When a cheery, red-faced Slughorn joined in, Mason and Ginny exchanged a look, clearly telling the other that it was time to go. They both quickly ducked out of the room, ending a day that Ginny would consider interesting, at the very least.