Dungeon Five Ch. 3
Ginny finished her lunch in a rush. She had apparently gotten out of bed on the wrong foot, because today just wasn't her day.
She had tons of work to do and her usual free period would be occupied by Malfoy. Not that he had been half as bad as she was expecting him to be. Yeah, he was a bit of a tosser, but he was helping her out and being a surprisingly good tutor.
She thought of all the things she had to get done before her lesson today and hurried her pace.
When she got to the common room, she chose one of the tables closer to the fire and immediately got to work. As the time passed, the other seats got taken, but she still managed to keep her table to herself. Before Ron and Harry got there, that is.
"Hullo, Gin," her brother greeted, as Harry and him sat down across from her.
"Can't talk right now, Ron. I have my lesson in ten minutes."
Ginny realised her mistake as soon as she made it. She didn't even bother to hide her wince when Ron asked what lesson she was supposed to have "Professor Dumbledore assigned me a Potions tutor…"
"I could have helped you if you needed help in Potions," Harry said with a slightly disapproving tone.
"I was honestly intending to drop the class." Ginny shrugged. "But Dumbledore said he would take me off the team if I didn't do it, so…"
"That sounds awfully unfair of him," Ron said while setting up a game of wizard's chess for him and Harry. "Who did you get saddled with?"
"Funny thing that." Ginny tried to stall but ultimately decided to just say it quickly and get it over with. "Malfoy is tutoring me."
"Why would Dumbledore punish you with that—that Ferret!" her brother exclaimed.
"Actually, he's not that bad." Ginny shrugged again. "He does seem to know a lot about Potions, even if he can be a bit of an arse sometimes."
There was absolute silence as her brother and Harry gaped at her before demanding to know how Malfoy could possibly not be "that bad". They listed all of his faults—as if she wasn't aware that Malfoy was hardly the paragon of niceness—and prodded and prodded for information, wanting to know everything about what went on during her lessons. It felt like she was being interrogated or somehow accused of betrayal just for saying the git wasn't "that bad". In short, it was utterly ridiculous.
"Oh, enough!" she snapped. "I'm the one who has to take lessons with him, not you, so what difference does it make? Just shut up already!"
She left before either could reply, now late for her lesson, and still fuming… So of course she got stuck in the moving staircase because she was distracted. Today really wasn't her day.
.
Draco was in a bad mood. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was sulking, no matter what Zabini said, but he was definitely not in the mood for socialising. And it was all her fault.
Ginny Weasley with her purple bra and smooth skin was a constant in his dreams of late. Her breathy, sexy sigh and that bloody beauty spot. He couldn't sleep well, he couldn't pay much attention to class and—fuck—he couldn't even think about her before his dick decided it needed attention.
It was like puberty all over again, and he hated it.
His first reaction was to try to ignore it, as he usually did with things he didn't want to deal with. That didn't work too well because it was as if his thoughts were a She-Weasel magnet and suddenly she was in every corner he turned. That only served to make him more pissed. His bad mood continued mounting until it was Wednesday and their lesson fast approaching. Draco decided he wouldn't get there early because the less time he had to spend next to her, the better. Instead, by the time lunch had finished, he went by the lockers to get his broom and flew as far away from Hogwarts as he could without triggering the wards.
The wind on his face did help him calm down a bit, but the reprieve was short-lived. By the time the first drop of water hit him, he knew this had been a bad idea.
When Draco got to the castle, he was sopping wet and had no time to go back to his rooms to take a hot shower. He dried himself as best as he could with his wand as he made his way down to the dungeons. A quick check on his watch told him he was fifteen minutes late. If his steps quickened a little at that, no one would know.
He entered the office fully expecting to have an angry redhead waiting for him, but was met with silence. She wasn't there.
His previously contained anger came back in full force as he set his things down on the table and began pacing. Ten minutes passed in which he furiously checked his watch every few seconds before Weasley burst into the room with apologies already spilling from her rosy lips. That thought irritated him even further, and Draco found himself cutting her off briskly.
"Where the fuck were you?"
She scowled at him. "I lost track of time and accidentally got stuck on the stairs on my way down." She shrugged and put her things next to his. "Sorry about that."
"Are you a bloody first year?" He rounded on her faster than a snake uncoiling for attack. "I don't know if you noticed, but you're failing Potions, you daft bint, and I'm the one who is supposed to keep that from happening. That is, if you actually show up in time!"
"I don't know what got your knickers in a twist, Malfoy, but you better reign your temper the fuck in before I punch you." She advanced towards him with a deadly expression in her eyes.
Draco fucking knew he shouldn't say anything, but he did it anyway. "You can't solve everything with your fists, you bloody trollop—"
And then he had her tiny fist on his mouth.
For a girl that could barely reach his shoulders, she packed a mean punch. Blood immediately spurted from his lower lip and dripped down his chin to ruin his shirt. The pain was immediate, and Draco fell back on his chair with the force of the impact.
"Good Godric!" Weasley gaped at him. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard!"
Her warm little hands now reached for his jaw gently to angle it upwards so she could see the damage.
"Fuck," he grunted when her thumb brushed his lower lip.
"I'm sorry." She winced. "I'm having a really bad day and, well, you started insulting me and I've had enough of that today, and I just felt like hitting something and I did, which is why your face looks like…"
She trailed off and glanced apologetically at him. Draco tried hard to keep on being mad, but it seemed like her punch had drained him of all his anger and all he was left with was a troublesome realisation: he was attracted to the She-Weasel. And right now she had one hand on his jaw while the other moved her wand around his mouth and closed his wound, so he decided to suck it up and be a man about it.
And by that he meant he would ignore said realisation and pretend nothing happened.
"Yeah, well." He sighed in resignation. "My day just got a lot worse."
Weasley didn't say anything, just continued working on his lip. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had to stop from time to time to blow the flyaway hairs from her face. Draco found it extremely distracting.
After what seemed like no time at all, and somehow all the time in the world, she was done.
"Take off your shirt. I can get it cleaned up." She stepped back and stretched her hand out for him.
"That's what house-elves are for," Draco said, mostly to see what her reaction would be.
She huffed. "Do you want to walk through Hogwarts with blood on your shirt?"
The eyebrow she raised at him was equal parts annoying and endearing, and he didn't even bother to fight with himself over the latter.
"Whatever, Weasley." Draco rolled his eyes and started loosening his tie. He spared a moment to be mad that he had decided to put on a sleeveless shirt beneath his school shirt that morning, but then shook the thought away. It wouldn't do to be half naked in the same room as her when the image of her moaning and shirtless was still so fresh in his mind.
She worked in silence for a while, his shirt on the table and her bent over it in concentration as he pretended not to watch as he catalogued every detail he could. From this close, he could see that her freckles crossed her nose and cheeks and extended up in the direction of her temples slightly.
She was working her bottom lip in concentration and, for the first time, Draco saw how perfect it was. She didn't have the forced pouty look so many girls went for; instead, the nuances of her lips were subtle. Her cupids bow wasn't really defined but her upper lip was full and rosy and jutted out just a tiny bit more than her bottom one. Draco caught himself thinking if certain other parts below her clothes matched the same hue as her lips.
"Malfoy?"
He looked at her in surprise when she turned to him with an expectant look on her face. "What?"
"I asked if you would like to go over my essay now." She extended his shirt back to him. "Your shirt is done."
Draco saw her eyes follow the lines of his arms when he took the piece of fabric from her, and he couldn't help but flex his muscles a bit. Who was he to deny her visual appreciation of his Seeker build, after all?
As soon as the thought came, he looked up at her and saw the smallest of frowns appear between her dark red brows. A contemplative look crossed her face and she finally raised her eyes to meet his. Weasley cocked her head a bit to the side as if she was trying to figure something out, but what Draco was really interested in were her eyes.
They were the same colour as his favourite brand of Firewhisky, and for a moment he got lost in their depths. Then he realised what a fucking sentimental fool he was being and quickly turned away.
"Right." He cleared his throat. "Let me have a look at that."
And then they were finally back to business.
Draco corrected her essay and directed her on how to better develop some paragraphs, then handed it back to her. The book he took out to work on his own studying may as well have been upside down for all the reading he got done, though. Every time she made even the tiniest of movements, his attention went right back to her. She leaned her head on her hand and her bloody beauty spot was on full display. She mouthed the words she was reading and her lips formed entrancing shapes. She bit her quill in that disgusting, unhygienic habit of hers and—Merlin's saggy left balls—he was hard as a fucking rock.
He was really glad the session was finally over, because Sweet Salazar, she was a Weasley and he couldn't stop conjuring the image of her without her clothes. He needed to get laid, urgently.
.
The opportunity presented itself that Saturday.
Ravenclaw had whipped the floor with Hufflepuff's team and, as usual, there was going to be a party that night somewhere in the castle. It happened after every Quidditch game, be it to celebrate one team's win or to console the other team's loss. That night, the party was in the Hufflepuff common room.
Draco personally thought it was pretty classless for the house to just open up their common room like that. Usually, whenever Slytherin decided to throw a party in their common room, it was mostly reserved for their house and only specific students from other houses were invited.
However, he really couldn't complain because today he needed this party.
He hadn't been able to properly pursue Pansy that week. It seemed like every time he saw her, she was with someone else. No matter how much glaring he did, she wasn't left alone.
Draco was unused to having to work this hard for Pansy, and it was seriously beginning to piss him off. He wasn't in the mood to go find some other girl to warm his bed, and he needed the distraction right now. So that party was a blessing.
When Draco and Blaise got there, the party was already in full swing. The Huffies common room was larger than he expected, but still a bit too small for everyone. He didn't mind it one bit, though, because just then he caught sight of his best friend right next to the beverages table.
Draco nodded his goodbye to Blaise and made his way to the dark-haired girl. She was wearing a tiny black dress that fell over her slim figure like water, and her bob and stylish bangs were arranged in his favourite "just got out of bed" look. He stalked her like a predator, his vision tunnelling in as he cornered his prey.
"Good evening, love," he said in her ear as his hands encircled her waist from behind.
She stiffened under his hands before turning around. She had a considerably better look on her face than the last time he saw her alone, but there was still an undercurrent of sadness to her that gave him pause.
"Draco." Her hands went up his dark grey cardigan and met on his collar. "You look dashing as always."
"So do you." He lowered his voice to the one he usually reserved for the bedroom and pressed her closer to him. He was about to lower his face to hers when she pushed him away slightly.
He followed her silent command and frowned at her.
"We're not together anymore, Draco." She stepped out of his embrace and smiled slightly at him.
"Come on, Pansy." He rolled his eyes. "We both know that never lasts long."
"This time it will," she replied with more force behind her words. Her face hardened a bit, only to soften again seconds later. "We're no good together, darling."
"What are you saying?" He looked at her in confusion. "We're best friends. We're great together!"
"As friends, yeah." She nodded slightly and rubbed her arms as if she was cold. "But we kind of suck at dating. We're almost always fighting and breaking up and, honestly, I deserve better than that. We both do."
Draco didn't know what to do. She was right, of course, but that didn't mean he liked it. He appreciated constance, and he and Pansy had been together for well over two years, not to mention best friends since they were little kids. Their engagement had been an almost certainty in their future, and now he had to come to terms with the fact that they were really broken up and not getting back together.
"I.." He trailed off and shook his head a bit before frowning and looking down at his feet. "I don't really know what to say."
"Stop being such a pansy," she replied jokingly, even if her tone of voice was a bit forced. It was a play on words she always did. "We'll still be friends. Just no shagging this time around."
Draco didn't think he had it in him to smile like she was, so he just stared at her instead. He watched as she rolled her eyes and stretched a bit to kiss his cheek. Then she leaned back and used her thumb to get the mark her red lips had left on him.
"Don't look so serious, love." She squeezed his hand. "I'll see you later."
Pansy left him alone at the drinks table, feeling at once relieved and lost. However, Draco soon decided that there was little he could do about it, so he poured himself some Firewhisky and downed the whole thing in one go. Something made him look to his right as he finished pouring his second glass and he met Firewhisky eyes.
Weasley was in the corner of the room, just off the makeshift dance floor. She was leaning against the wall in a half circle with some of her usual crowd and, surprisingly, her brother and Potter. She looked at him with a slight frown on her features, her head cocked calculatingly. It was a strange look on someone who always seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve, but Draco found that it fit her somehow.
The cream, three-quarter sleeved sweater she was wearing contoured her figure perfectly and left the arch of her neck and the defined lines of her collarbones fully exposed. Draco did a quick assessment of her and noticed she was using the tiniest bit of makeup. While she wasn't wearing any heels, she was wearing a rather flattering skirt. Her hair was in the ponytail he had gotten used to seeing, but this time her bangs were deliberately framing her face.
Draco considered a fantasy of approaching her, but soon dismissed that idea. Instead, he tipped his cup in her direction in a kind of a salute. Weasley smiled at him then. Actually fucking smiled, and he was blown away with how bloody radiant she looked. The girl was fucking beautiful.
He was thankfully knocked out of his foolish reveries when he realised the Weasley Git and Four Eyes were making their way towards him.
"Malfoy," The tall ginger tried for a menacing tone, but to Draco it just sounded like he was constipated. "You stay away from my sister. Or else."
Draco actually snorted. What a tosser. "First of all, Dumbledore ordered me to spend two hours a day at least two days a week with her, you barmy git. And, second." He smirked at them. "Piss off."
"
Draco left the two boys and went to find his friends. He didn't dare glance back in the girl's direction. Instead, he spent the rest of the night with good, albeit completely drunk, company and worked hard to ensure he would have a good old-fashioned hangover in the morning.
