This was written for Farrha's Birthday Gift Challenge. The guidelines were: DG, the Weasley twins, pranks and Luna. No fluff, but fun, snarky and an unfortunate encounter with the Twins' Patented Daydream Charm. Should be at least 500 words.
I will state now that I detest writing 'prank' fics, and I'm not a huge fan of the twins either; however, since this is for Farrha's birthday, I figured I would try to put my natural aversion aside and write a challenge response for her. Thank goodness for the no fluff rule.
Fantasy Fling
"We need some fresh victims," Fred Weasley mused, casting his eyes about the Great Hall.
"You mean test subjects," George corrected.
"Right. That's what I meant. Test subjects."
The twins stared at each other and cracked identical evil grins. Victim was definitely the better description. They had recently created a charm that would cause the subject to fall into a romantic daydream about a selected person. Depending on how intensely the charm had been cast, the subject could find his or herself fantasising about kissing the selected target to ripping off the other's clothes and engaging in the most wild of sex. However, a broader range of test results were needed before the twins could truly be certain they had perfected the charm, and to get more test results, they needed more test subjects.
"How about Malfoy and his goons?" George suggested. "They're always fun to torment."
"Might be difficult getting the information from them," Fred said, rubbing his chin. "It's not like last time when we just had to watch and see whether their skin turned blue from that blueberry pie we had Dobby place on their table."
"Very true, Fred. Very true."
"I could help," a whimsical voice offered from behind them.
The brothers swung around in unison. Luna Lovegood smiled up at them, dreamy and odd as ever. Today she was wearing a necklace that looked like it had been made of toothpaste caps. The twins, however, spared little glance for her attire. They were more disturbed at the thought that she had been listening in on their conversation, feeling it a blow to their deviousness as mischief makers.
Fred folded his arms across his chest as he stared down at her. "Have you been eavesdropping on private conversations again, Miss Lovegood?"
"Yes," she said simply. "And if you want to use your charm on Draco Malfoy and his friends, I do believe I can help."
George took an identical stance to his twin. "And how do you propose to help us?"
She gave a dreamy smile. "I can monitor them and ask questions, of course. Everyone knows you two get up to pranks, but no one would suspect me of doing so."
"She's got a point," George said in a lower voice to his twin. "People think she's so weird they wouldn't suspect a thing if she asked them what kind of fantasies they had been having of late."
Fred shared a long look with his brother, as if speaking telepathically. Both redheads then turned to face Luna. "Very well," they said in unison, "we'll accept your offer, but no one can hear about this."
"Oh, don't worry," she said airily, "I won't tell anyone."
The twins stared at her suspiciously for a moment but decided she was telling the truth. They proceeded to tell her more about the charm and what fantasy they wanted Malfoy and his friends to have—a racy little number involving Snape, Trelawney and the giant squid. Luna listened politely, but underneath her wide-eyed gaze and dreamy smile, she was busy making her own plans. Draco Malfoy was going to have a fantasy, alright, but it would have nothing to do with his Head of House, the sherry addicted Seer, or the giant squid. No, she had a much better plan.
Luna's protuberant blue eyes levelled on Ginny Weasley and a small smile curved her lips. She wondered if Ginny and Draco would be quite so eager to engage in their far too vocal arguments in the library once they had fantasised about shagging each other. At the very least, she hoped the red aura they created during their disputes would leave so that the Crimpy-Pinks would come back to live in the bookshelves. Luna did so miss their furry little faces.
"Do you understand, Luna?" George asked, oblivious to the blonde's nefarious plans.
"Oh, yes," she said in her oddly whimsical yet matter-of-fact voice. "I understand completely, and I think I should cast the charm."
Fred and George protested, but Luna was quite adamant and eventually managed to persuade the twins to her cause. She knew how to get her way when necessary.
Her eyes rested on the haughty blond sitting at the Slytherin table, and another smile curved her lips. It was time to test if the line between love and hate really was as thin as people thought.
oOo
Draco Malfoy was not in a good mood. His final exams for his OWLS were coming up, but every time he went to go and study in the library that damned redhead was there at his table, and always sitting on his chair. It had annoyed him at first, but now it truly grated on his nerves. Everyone knew that was his table and his spot. He'd even made Crabbe and Goyle guard the seat sometimes just so he could be certain no one would usurp his library throne; however, that stupid Weasley chit didn't seem to understand basic Hogwarts' protocol—a protocol that insisted Draco Malfoy should always get his way. No, she had just sat down on his chair one day and had refused to move. So began the infamous library battles between Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley.
At first Draco had simply tried to assert his authority and make her leave, but Ginny was a stubborn Gryffindor and had told him in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of her face before she hexed his balls off. Draco, not used to being denied, quickly lost his temper. That was when things got really ugly. Insults had been thrown, threats had been made, Crabbe and Goyle were set on her like wild dogs, but none of it had any impact on the redhead in question. Like a true Gryffindor, she had refused to give up, and eventually Draco had been forced to sit at a different table. He had sworn to put her back in her place, however, and so each day the battle began anew—sometimes with Draco winning the seat, and sometimes Ginny. Today, it was the redhead who had claimed the table for her study time. Somehow, she had managed to get to the library before him again.
"Damn that little bint," Draco muttered, scowling at the girl as she sat quite contentedly in his favourite spot.
He did not have Crabbe and Goyle as backup today, but that didn't bother him. The two were never particularly useful for his fights with the youngest Weasley, since Draco would never let them physically hurt the girl—there were some things even he could not tolerate—and neither of them were good with spells. Besides, most of his disputes with the redhead consisted of a lot of verbal abuse. It was very rare they actually resorted to wands.
Ginny raised her head from her book and stared directly at him, as if she had sensed his gaze. A little smile curled her lips as their eyes met, challenging him to try and move her. Draco gritted his teeth. How he hated that smile.
"That's it," he growled, stalking towards her. "I'm putting an end to this right now."
Ginny saw him coming and put her book down, relaxing back in her chair as she smiled up at him. "Can I help you, Malfoy?" she asked, smug and annoying as ever.
Draco stopped in front of her, arms folded. "Yeah, Weasley, you can get out of my seat."
She made a show of pondering the matter for a moment. "No, I don't think I will."
He restrained his temper with an effort. "I'm really not in the mood for this, Weasley. Get the hell off my seat or I swear I will force you to get off."
"How do you plan to do that?" she asked, observing him with interest. "You've been making that same threat for weeks now and I have yet to see you actually succeed."
Draco planted his hands on the table, looming over her with his considerable height. "Listen, Weasley," he hissed, grey eyes smouldering with suppressed frustration. "This has been my spot for the past five years. I am not about to let your freckly little arse ruin that, so why don't you just get off the chair like a good girl and go and find your own spot."
Ginny tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Tempting, but no. I think I'll just stay here. I rather like this spot."
His jaw tightened and he leaned in closer so that their faces were inches apart.
"Get off the chair, Weasley."
She lifted her chin. "No."
Grey clashed with brown, tangling in a mixture of amusement and rage. Draco gripped the table, making his knuckles burn white. In his mind he told himself over and over again that it would not be a good idea to strangle the little bint sitting before him, despite how tempting that slender neck looked. He had to stay calm. He had to get that damned redhead off his chair. He had to—
Something warm brushed against the back of his head and a hazy glaze suddenly passed over his eyes. He shook his head slightly, trying to string his disjointed thoughts together, but he felt like his mind had become filled with cobwebs.
"Malfoy?"
Draco focussed his attention back on Ginny, only to pause in surprise as he realised just how close they were. He could determine every shade of brown that made up her eyes, count every freckle on her nose and cheeks, and then his gaze rested on her lips. Those full, velvety looking lips. He'd never realised how perfect they were, with her bottom lip jutting out just a little into a natural pout, so soft and kissable. So undeniably tempting.
Ginny exhaled softly as the silence dragged out between them, her breath brushing his face like the lightest of butterfly caresses. A shiver travelled down his spine at the contact, igniting his blood at the base and flowing through his veins in a stream of fire. In that moment he wanted to close the distance between them. He wanted to taste those impossibly soft lips and run his hands through her obnoxiously red hair. He wanted to let their breath intermingle in a hot collision of passion and desire and drown in her very essence. He wanted her—all of her—and he would not rest until he was satisfied.
Their eyes met, and he could see the way her pupils dilated, spreading out in a pool of black to darken her normally cinnamon brown irises.
"Come on," those eyes seemed to say. "I dare you to try it."
Draco released his grip on the table and took her face in his hands. She held his gaze steadily, but he heard the way her breath caught and felt the little tremble that went through her body. A smile curved his mouth—it was about time he managed to shake her calm—and then he closed the last few inches between them and pressed his lips firmly against hers.
"Oh," she gasped, pulling back in surprise.
He understood her confusion. The moment their lips had met it was as if a shock of energy had closed around his every nerve, making his body hum with exhilaration and pleasure.
"Did you—?" she began.
He nodded.
They stared at each other for a moment and then he was kissing her again—kissing her so passionately and thoroughly that there didn't seem to be enough oxygen getting to his lungs. He pulled her up from the chair as he deepened the kiss, placing himself between her and the table to get into a more comfortable position. A content little moan purred in her throat as their bodies brushed against each other in all the right places, and he was conscious of her thigh sliding up against his leg, sending another shock of desire through his blood.
"Gods, I hate you," she whispered between kisses, fisting a hand in his hair.
"The feeling is mutual," he responded, gripping her hip as he transferred his attentions to her neck.
No thought of strangling her entered his brain. He just wanted to taste the hypersensitive skin and feel her pulse quicken against his mouth, among other things. Hell, if he had his way he'd plant her on the table right now and shag her senseless, immersing himself in the warmth and mind-blowing pleasure her body could give. He was sure the little spit fire would be quite the ride; she certainly was feisty enough during their arguments.
And then everything stopped.
Draco blinked, momentarily disorientated as he realised he was back to looming over the redhead with his hands planted on the table. She looked just as confused. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was half-open, as if she were about to say something but couldn't quite form the sound.
"What the hell?" she exclaimed finally, leaning back in her chair to put some distance between them while staring at him like he had just sprouted an extra head.
Draco blinked again, still feeling a little slow and stupid, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. "I don't understand," he said dazedly. "Weren't we just—"
He rubbed a hand against his forehead, trying to piece together the muddled mixture of images in his mind. What the heck had just happened?
The two teenagers stared at each other, no longer taunting or angry but merely confused. Draco wondered if he was going insane. He was certain he had just had a fantasy about snogging Ginny Weasley, but that couldn't be right. He hated the stupid bint.
Ginny glared at him, but there was a wary glint to her eyes, as if she was no longer quite certain how to respond to him now. He understood the feeling. It was difficult to loathe someone's guts when you had just imagined yourself wanting to shag the person senseless on your favourite library table. He could still feel her body pressed so soft and temptingly against his, not to mention the warm, silky feeling of her lips.
Oh, gods. This had to stop before he did something stupid.
Apparently, Ginny had a similar idea because she sprang up from the chair. "The spot is all yours, Malfoy," she said in a harried voice, shoving her belongings in her bag. "I'm sure I can study somewhere else."
Draco frowned as he watched her side-step him to leave, but then she paused and glanced back at him. Their eyes met and just like that a hundred images of the two of them kissing passed before his mind, reawakening him to the fact that he was feeling very sexually frustrated right now. Ginny let out a sharp little gasp and stared at him with eyes as wide as tea saucers. He wondered for a painfully embarrassing moment if his arousal had shown in his expression.
"I have to go," Ginny said in a squeaky voice and all but ran out of the library.
Draco stared after her retreating figure in confusion. That was when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He glanced down and saw Luna Lovegood peering up at him.
"Hello, Draco," she said dreamily. "I wanted to ask you if you've been having any odd fantasies lately."
Draco felt his cheeks burn with unfamiliar warmth as he remembered his recent fantasy with Ginny Weasley. Instead of answering her question, however, he simply muttered something about crazy Ravenclaws and marched out of the library, wanting to put as much distance between him and that damned table as was possible.
Luna turned and smiled at the furry Crimpy-Pink floating beside her. "Mission accomplished."