A/N: Thank you for the reviews – you guys are the best! :) This is a long chapter, so I hope you enjoy…

Chapter 3: The Kiss that Didn't Happen

Over the next four weeks, Ginny taught Draco how to float and then how to tread water and finally how to do a few strokes. With their lessons as a distraction from her fears about the trio, Ginny's days fell into a more or less comfortable routine. She ate breakfast, then read for a few hours in her room or went flying by herself, and then shortly after lunch she and Malfoy would meet at the pond.

Today, however, Fred had challenged Ginny to a game of chess on the lawn.

"Bollocks!" George cried. "Where is that confounded Rook?"

"Swearing, George!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen, where she was directing the plates to wash themselves up after breakfast.

"That nasty little bugger is always hiding…somewhere," Fred agreed, upturning couch cushions and peering inside decorative teacups.

"And whose fault is that?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows at a suddenly very innocent-looking Fred.

"Well," he replied defensively, "Just because I charmed him to try to escape bondage doesn't mean I expected him to become the bloody hide-and-seek world champion!"

"Fred, swearing!" Mrs. Weasley's voice interjected once more, this time slightly higher pitched.

"Yes, you two, listen to your mother," chimed in Mr. Weasley from an armchair. He was sweating through his shirt and reading the paper (it being Saturday). "This does, however, make a case for buying a new set," he added, attempting nonchalance. "Perhaps a Muggle one this time?"

Ginny glanced at her brothers and they all had to work at stifling their laughs. Their dad had been trying to get his hands on a muggle chess set for years and years, and he could never quite seem to bring the rest of the family around to his level of enthusiasm.

"They'll just charm those too, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley called. Mr. Weasley sighed theatrically and returned to the Prophet.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Anything in there, Dad?" she said, trying to sound uninterested.

Mr. Weasley folded down the top of the paper and shook his head at her. "Sorry, dear, nothing."

"Aw, Gin," George said, coming over and ruffling her hair, "You've been asking if there's news about five times a day for months now."

"Not to mention every time you leave the house you come barrelling in asking if you've missed any important Owls," Fred added.

Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "If we hear from Harry, dear, you'll be the first to know," she said, smiling encouragingly. Ginny wondered at her mother's reference to Harry – just Harry – when Ginny was a hundred percent sure that she'd been careful to ask for news of the trio every time. Perhaps she'd slipped up once by accident.

"Plus," Fred continued brightly, "don't you think that if the great Harry Potter had been wounded or killed, old Voldy would be sure to plaster the news all over the Prophet?"

"Fred!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Don't say things like that!"

"Really, though," George said, coming to the defence of his twin, "If Harry had been hurt he'd make sure we all knew about it. Hell, if any of the Death Eaters managed to give Harry so much as a papercut he'd advertise it everywhere!"

Ginny couldn't help laughing a little. "All right, all right," she said. "Now where the bloody hell," she shot the twins a mischevious look, "is that Rook?"

"Ginny too!" Mrs. Weasley said. Fred and George burst out laughing.

"Maybe in Ron's room?" Fred suggested. "You and dear Ronniekins play up there sometimes, don't you?" he said, nodding in Ginny's direction.

"Come to think of it," she said, "I think I remember it hopping off when we were clearing up a game last time we played. Hang on…."

Ginny bounded up the stairs. She didn't even hesitate before knocking on Ron's, now Draco's, door. Hours at the pool and the admittedly hilarious experience of watching him splutter and nearly drown on a daily basis had caused a certain familiarity to develop. Ginny might go so far as to say that they were something like friends.

"Draco," she called, knocking continuously on the door because she knew it would annoy him. "Draco!"

"Merlin, woman, what do you want!" Draco called impatiently from the other side of the door.

Ginny took that as an invitation to come inside and swung open the door. "I'm looking for the blasted Rook," she said by way of explanation as she immediately got down on all fours and reached her arm beneath Ron's dresser.

Draco was sitting on the bed, observing her wryly over the top of a book.

"The Rook," Ginny said, "the Chess Rook. One of the ones from our set is always running away."

"Why don't you just 'Accio it,' as it were," Draco asked, still not moving from the bed.

"'Cause Fred charmed it. It'll stay on the board if you're playing the game – albeit reluctantly – but the moment the game's over it'll run away and hide. And it can't be found magically. Where is it!" Ginny got up from the floor, giving up on the dresser, and surveyed the room.

Draco didn't seem to have made many changes, though she noticed that it was considerably neater than it was when Ron was inhabiting it. Draco's trunk was positioned at the foot of the bed and there was a stack of unfamiliar books on the bedside table, but other than that the exterior of Ron's room seemed relatively untouched.

Ginny's eyes swung around to Draco, who was regarding her intently. "Well?" she said, cocking an eyebrow at him, "Are you going to help me look or not?"

Draco sighed theatrically, but he set his book down and stood. "Thank you," Ginny said primly. "You look under the bed, I'll check the bookshelf."

"Who's playing?" Draco said as they moved to their respective sides of the room.

"Me and Fred. Don't worry, I'll win," Ginny added.

Draco laughed. "Awfully confident, aren't we?"

"I'm just kidding," Ginny said, "We've got a running tally in our family…that's something you should know. Chess is no game at the Burrow. It's a very," she fixed Malfoy with her most serious gaze, "very serious competition."

Draco raised his eyebrows, but settled his face into its most somber expression. "And who's winning?"

"Ron," Ginny sighed. "He's leading Bill by sixteen games."

"I didn't know the Weasel had it in him," Draco mused. Ginny glared at him. "And where are you in the rankings?" Draco smirked.

"Before Fred, after George. It's Ron, Bill, George, me, Fred, Percy, Charlie. But Percy and Charlie aren't really that into it," Ginny listed, counting off her brothers on her fingers.

"Right in the middle," Draco said, "That's a poor showing, Weasley."

"Hey! It's a tough field, Malfoy! I'd like to see you do better."

"I'm sure you would," Draco replied cryptically. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but he merely smirked at her.

"Oi! Ginny! What's taking so long!" Fred's voice carried up the stairs.

"Still looking!" Ginny called back.

"Found it!" Draco said, standing and holding a struggling rook by the ankle between his thumb and forefinger.

"You bloody scoundrel!" it was yelling. Draco glared at it.

Ginny laughed. "Draco found it!" she yelled. She turned to Draco. "Thanks, you can give it here."

"Do you mind if I come observe?" Draco said. "Maybe I can point out some flaws in your technique." She glowered at him; he smiled back sweetly.

"Fine," Ginny said, "But at a later date I am going to kick your smug little arse and then we'll see who's pointing out flaws in whose technique." She turned and started down the stairs, Draco following in her wake.

"What's this? What's this?" Fred said as Draco came into view behind Ginny at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, Fred," George said, "It looks like the ferret is leaving his…cave…" – he looked curiously at Fred, who nodded his head to confirm that ferrets did (at least in his opinion) sleep in caves – "for once!"

"Be nice, boys," Mrs. Weasley chastised, shaking her head at the twins.

Over the weeks, Draco's self-imposed isolation had become something of a running joke between the twins. Things were getting worse in Diagon Alley – Death Eaters had taken to roaming the streets – so the twins had temporarily closed down the joke shop. They were bored, and Ginny was a little worried that they'd soon get it in their heads to pull pranks on Malfoy. He was actually getting to be pretty good-natured around her (if somewhat closed off), but she doubted that he'd ever been pranked before and she didn't think he would take it well. He didn't seem like the type to be amused by Fred and George's antics.

"He's on my team," Ginny said, surprising herself by taking Draco's side against the twins. Well, she considered, the twins were a force to be reckoned with and everyone needed allies. "I'm tired of you two always putting your heads together on the other side of the board!"

George shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Fred grinned. "You're going to need all the help you can get, Ginnykins!"

Ginny scowled at the name and gave Draco a significant look (the subtext of which was you had better help me beat them, you prat) before following the twins outside.

"A fine day for a walloping!" Fred mused as they arrived at a particularly comfortable looking patch of grass.

"I wouldn't be so confident, Weasley," Draco said, settling himself beside Ginny and depositing the now-grumpy-looking rook onto the board.

Fred moved his first piece, nodding happily at George.

Draco and Ginny both considered the board for a moment. Ginny leaned over and whispered in Draco's ear. He looked thoughtful, then whispered something back. Ginny grinned.

"I don't like the looks of this, Fred," George said.

"Neither do I," George responded.

Two dozen moves later, Ginny laughed gleefully. "Check-bloody-mate!" she cried, sticking her tongue out at the dumbfounded twins.

"But…but…Fred…."

"But…but…George…."

"Put it in the tally!" Ginny continued. She turned to Draco, her face split in a big grin. "We did it!" She launched herself at him in a celebratory hug. He stiffened against her, and Ginny quickly released him. He was wearing an expression of surprise, but he quickly rearranged his features into the usual cool smirk. Ginny supposed that he probably wasn't used to public displays of affection. Not that they were…affectionate with each other…or anything. Ginny mentally shook herself and quickly moved away.

"That is to say…," Ginny said hesitantly, turning back to the twins, "It looks like I've found my new chess partner." The twins didn't even seem to have noticed the spontaneous hug and were recounting their moves to each other in an effort to determine what had gone wrong.

"Well." Ginny brushed her hair out of her face self-consciously. Fred and George looked up, faces set in identical mock scowls that made Ginny laugh.

"We want a re-match!"

"Tomorrow, tomorrow," Ginny laughed. "For now let's get the rook in the box before he escapes."

Ginny reached across the board and grabbed the blasted rook just as he was about to break into a run across the lawn. Wagging her finger at him (he stuck out his tongue at her and scowled), she gathered up the rest of the pieces, threw them in the box and shut the lid firmly. She mumbled a quick sealing spell and heard the frustrated sounds of the rook kicking against the box to no avail.

"Blimey, Malfoy," George commented as the group traipsed back to the house. "You're a pretty formidable foe. Ginny's never played that well before!"

Ginny glared at her brother. A quick glance at Malfoy showed that he was looking her way with an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

"Well she certainly needed the help," he quipped. Ginny turned and punched him on the arm. The twins guffawed.

As they piled into the Burrow, Ginny called to her mother. "Mum, did we get any letters or anything while I was out?"

Ginny could practically feel Fred and George's eyes rolling behind her. "No, dear," Mrs. Weasley responded shortly. Ginny sighed. It had been weeks without news. She felt like her chest was going to burst.

The twins barrelled into the kitchen and immediately began pestering Mrs. Weasley about lunch. Draco nodded wordlessly to Ginny and disappeared up the stairs to his room. Ginny flopped down on one of the armchairs in the living room. Her father was in the same place that he'd been in this morning, only now he was tinkering with some sort of Muggle device.

"So, Dad," Ginny said, "How are your cases at work?"

Two hours later, Ginny stood in her room trying to decide what to do. Mrs. Weasley had announced lunch as usual – it was pasta steeped in a meaty marinara sauce – and had ventured up to the attic to tell Draco that food was ready. But she had returned a moment later and said offhandedly that Draco had politely declined, saying he wasn't hungry.

Ginny hoped this didn't have anything to do with the spontaneous hug she had given him on the lawn. Ginny rolled her eyes at the thought. It had been unexpected of course, and rather awkward, but was it really that big of a deal? They were friends, after all, or something like it, and she'd been helping him learn how to swim for weeks now. It wasn't as though she'd never touched him before.

Ginny absentmindedly straightened some of her books and shoved some of the clothing that she had tossed on the floor on previous days into the hamper. She wondered if Draco was angry. Perhaps hugs were some sort of grevious error in the Malfoys' social circle. Ginny grumbled to herself. What did she care anyway?

But she couldn't help but wonder whether or not they would still have lessons today. Well, either way, she decided, she was still going to go down to the pond. It helped her relax. The place felt so distance from the…ordinary…world that it was easy to forget that Harry was in danger.

Ginny changed quickly into her bathing suit, pulling her shorts and t-shirt on over it. She grabbed her towel and wand and made her way out the house and into the thick woods behind it.

When she came into view of the pond, she was surprised to find that Draco was already there, floating on his back in the water. Ginny couldn't help but smile proudly at the sight; Narcissa Malfoy had apparently ingrained some of her own fear of water in her only son, and it had taken Draco several days to get comfortable enough to float.

"You're late," Draco said without looking up.

"How in Merlin's name did you know I was here!" Ginny grumbled as she got to the edge of the pond and flopped down.

Draco snorted but his eyes remained closed. "You're as loud as the bloody ghoul that lives in your attic."

Ginny glared at him. "I will have you know," she said, shimmying out of shirt and shorts. "that I am a very stealthy individual."

Draco opened his mouth to respond and just then Ginny cannonballed into the pond.

She surfaced, laughing almost uncontrollably, to see a sputtering Malfoy spewing water from his mouth. "You little brat!" he roared, sending Ginny a retaliatory splash.

She turned her back quickly to avoid the worst of it, nearly going under with the force of her laughter. "My…stomach…hurts…," she gasped. "Like I…said…I'm stealthy." Draco was putting on an angry face, but she could see the corners of his lips curving upward.

"I'm going to get you back for that, Weasley," Draco said coolly when Ginny had finally collected herself.

Ginny cocked her head at him, grinning cheekily. "I'd like to see you try. I grew up with Fred and George. I can see a prank coming a mile away. Survival instinct."

"I'll bet," Draco said. "I've seen their little joke shop in Diagon Alley. Looks like they've got some nasty tricks up their sleeves."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Try me."

Ginny spent the next several minutes recounting some the twins' best pranks, a collection that spanned nearly a decade and including everything from toothbrushes turning into spiders in Ron's hands to enchanting the dragons on Charlie's pajamas to actually breathe fire. That last one had caused quite a few minor burns, and Mrs. Weasley had been livid. Ginny smiled fondly at the memory.

After a few laps of breast stroke, Ginny had Draco work on his freestyle. She leaned back against the pond edge and watched him swim across the pond. For someone who hadn't been able to float a month ago, Draco was really very graceful in the water. No, she wasn't sure graceful was entirely the right word. He was a strong swimmer, and his arms arched into the water in smooth movements. That was a more apt word. He was a smooth swimmer.

Ginny was so busy studying Malfoy's movements that she hardly noticed when he surfaced a foot away from her and looked at her expectantly.

"Like what you see?" he said cheekily, raising his eyebrows at her.

Ginny collected herself. "You'll survive if you ever fall off that yacht," she returned fluidly, "but I can definitely spot some mistakes in your technique." She grinned.

He laughed and slicked his hair back. "You know, Weasley, you're not a half-bad instructor."

"Wow, don't go overboard with the compliments there, Malfoy. I'm blushing," Ginny said wryly.

"No, I'm serious," Draco replied. "You should think about teaching."

Ginny looked at him curiously. Since the first time they had met at the pond they had avoided talking about anything really serious. They didn't discuss the war. Draco avoided talking about his mother. And Ginny never mentioned Harry. Their conversations had consisted mainly of banter and barbed teasing.

"You'd be better than most of the bloody half-wits they have teaching at Hogwarts now, anyway," Draco added.

Ginny snorted. "Give serious praise and then throw in a backhanded compliment at the end. A real charmer, you are."

Draco laughed again. "I try."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know, I've always kind of thought about teaching. Maybe charms or something," she added thoughtfully. "What about you?"

Draco shrugged. "Never really thought about it," he said. "Always figured I'd inherit and then…I dunno…with the war and all I just never really considered anything."

"So you're going to do nothing. Nothing at all," Ginny said skeptically.

"Well don't sound so proud of me," Draco said sarcastically.

"I can't really see you doing nothing," Ginny said finally. She looked out across the pond and to the woods beyond, considering. "You're too…restless. I can't imagine you putting your feet up and letting the world be run by somebody else. That's what it is. You'd want too badly to be in charge of things, I think…."

Ginny stopped herself short, glancing at Draco nervously. Perhaps she'd gone too far. But he was considering her with the strangest look on his face. It was something like…surprise, but with much more intensity. He didn't respond, though, just kept looking at her and she looked back uncertainly.

"What?" she said finally. "What are you looking at? You're freaking me ou…."

She suddenly felt the warm pressure of lips on her own and she would have staggered if she wasn't already being pressed hard against the pond edge. He was kissing her. Draco-bleeding-Malfoy was kissing her. Her mind could hardly process the thought.

Just as suddenly he pulled away and stepped back, leaving her stunned against the water's edge.

She couldn't speak for a long moment and just returned his gaze with confusion. Finally she managed words. "What in the bloody hell was that?"

Malfoy's face was blank and inscrutable. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." Ginny's eyes widened. His voice was suddenly so formal, so different from how it had been just a few moments before.

He didn't say anything more, just lifted himself swiftly out of the pond, toweled off quickly and put on his clothing.

"That's it? You're not going to explain that?" Ginny said incredulously as he started to walk away.

He turned suddenly and faced her, and Ginny thought she saw a small smile playing on his bottom lip. "Ginny? That kiss. It never happened." Then he turned on his heel and walked out of sight.

It took Ginny several minutes to fully regain her senses. And then she became very angry. She grabbed her things and stamped off in the direction of the Burrow, mind racing.

What in Merlin's name did that bloody git think he was doing? Where had that kiss even come from? They'd been having a perfectly normal, not at all romantic or sexual, conversation. And then suddenly, out of no where, he had the nerve to stick his tongue down her throat like he owned it.

Ginny stalked into the house and went straight into her room, ignoring her mother's curious glances. She flopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Sure, mutual worry and lack of other companionship had thrown them together. And they had developed a tentative sort of friendship. Malfoy wasn't all bad; he was a little arrogant and sometimes distant, but he had a wicked sense of humour that matched hers and she appreciated that. But to kiss her? That was over the line. And he hadn't even apologized!

Hell, the conceited prat probably thought that his kisses were so bloody wonderful that he could just dole them out to anyone without so much as a word of explanation. Ginny shoved back the traitorous thought that the kiss itself hadn't felt all bad. No, those kinds of thoughts weren't productive. Harry. Noble, wonderful, brilliant Harry was the only person whose kisses she was supposed to think of with any kind of positive feeling.

Harry. In a moment, all of Ginny's anger left her. Her stomach dropped. And she realized that this was the first time that she hadn't asked. She had been so caught up thinking about what she should or shouldn't feel about Draco Malfoy's unexpected kiss that she hadn't asked. She hadn't asked if there had been any news. She had forgotten all about it.

A/N: So what do you think? I should really be sleeping right now, but I hit a major writing streak very suddenly and I had to keep writing until the chapter was done I'd love to wake up to some reviews…maybe? Pretty, pretty please? Love, mugglehugger.