"Beep...beep...beep..." Ginny awoke with a start as her alarm's ring echoed deafly in her ears. She squirmed around in her bed, trying to unravel herself from the mound of blankets consuming her as she jetted out a small, frail hand to slam onto the damned object.
She mumbled incoherently underneath her breath as she heaved her legs out from under the comfort of the bed, and onto the cold, hard, unwelcoming, Gryffindor Tower floor. A shiver erupted throughout her spine as she immediately darted her hands to her opposite upper arms, crossing them over her chest, as she stood, walked towards the foot of her bed where her trunk sat.
She rummaged through quickly, wandering her chocolate eyes over her vicariously placed belongings, in search for her uniform and school robes. She finally found a clean set atop a few textbooks, including her Transfiguration one. She hurriedly put on her uniform, and topped it off with the old, near-faded robes, buttoning them as her fire-red hair crept into her line of vision. She raked a loose hand through her strands, and a quick brush, brushed her teeth, and out the door she was, quickly grabbing her bag on the way out.
She bit her bottom lip as she rounded the next corner briskly, yet her bag wasn't traveling at quite the same speed, and ran smack-dab into the bricked corner. Ginny's shoulders slightly slumped as she bit back curses for this horrid morning and slouched down to retrieve her spilled belongings, and quickly caught sight of a jammed sweatshirt at the bottom of her bag
* * *
With a small shiver, Draco Malfoy awoke on his own, perhaps because of the snoring coming from his 'lackeys' as Ginny liked to call them. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and up to the shower, footsteps echoing against the cold dungeon floor. He'd always hated how cold the dungeons were, particularly during the winter as it currently was.
He soon reached the shower, tossing his pajamas over the door as the warm water flowed down his back. The shower was perhaps the only few moments of the day he had to himself, and even then, Draco wasn't quite sure it could count as alone, what with the first year singing in the shower next to him. He couldn't very well think aloud, so he was silent until he stepped out, silent until he left the room, and headed back to his dormitory to dress, silent until he left the common room for breakfast, silent until he reached the hallway and saw the youngest Weasley, book sprawled about all over the floor.
Soon, he was behind her. Bending over her slouched form, he whispered in her ear. "I need my sweatshirt back, Weasley."
* * *
Ginny could feel her back go rigid and her face flush as she felt his hot breath on her neck, sending a fresh tingle down her spine. She had jumped slightly when she had felt him close to her, almost knocking him in the chin, yet refrained and sat still, still in her squatting position on the ground.
She slowly rose, taking him with her as she stooped down to get the last items of hers, and adjusted her bag onto her shoulders. She gave him a meek smile as she dove her hand into her bag, pilfering and groping about for the fabric. When she finally felt it, she slowly brought it out, handing it to him slightly wrinkled, along with a few following papers that had sought refuge at he bottom of her bag.
She slightly rosined at the sight and brought out her wand too, performing a small spell to return the sweatshirt to its normal state... firmly pressed and clean. "Sorry about that.." She apologized, patting it a bit as she handed it to him and bending down to catch the mingling papers.
After she had stuff them back into her bag, she tucked her disheveled locks weakly behind her ear as she started to shift her weight uneasily back and forth, unsure of what to say. "Thanks again, for, uh, letting me borrow it." She finally spat out, gesturing towards the sweatshirt, then realizing what a fool she was making of herself, and with no apparent reason, turned on her heel to leave.
* * *
Draco smirked slightly at Ginny's reaction. She was surprised, as was apparent by her jumpiness and the fact that she nearly made him topple off of her and backwards onto the floor. Of course, she didn't do that, even though she knew who he was. This thought only made him smirk more.
She wanted him.
He didn't comment about the sweatshirt, wrinkled and not so beautiful as it was. Ginny, however, quickly fixed this, pressing and cleaning it with a flick of her wand. The Slytherin looked curiously at her for a moment before shrugging and stuffing it in his own bag, probably much to the young Weaslette's displeasure. No matter. He wasn't going to make room just so it looked pretty, after all.
As she started to leave, he was surprised. Why? Why was she leaving? He hadn't even commented yet! "Where're you going, Weasley?"
* * *
But, she didn't want him.
Err... that's what she kept telling herself, at least.
She crinkled her red brows a bit as he stuffed the sweatshirt into his bag, What a waste of a good spell, she thought silently to herself. Oh well, wasn't her property, he could do whatever he wanted with it. She didn't care about anything of his. She didn't care about him. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Gin. She silently reprimanded herself for even wasting a minute of her thoughts on him, much less... the past week.
As she turned to leave, he called after her, making her smile in satisfaction. "Why do you care?" She asked him, raising a brow. "It's not like you're vying for my attention or company, anyway." She added, quite truthfully. "Why don't you go seek the comfort of the arms of one of your butt buddies, eh?" She asked, giving him a sarcastic smirk. "I'm sure they'd be more than open to it." She shrugged, as if she were only proclaiming the obvious.
She then mentally kicked herself. Why was she treating him like this? When he hadn't even said anything mildly hostile? And all she really wanted was to feel those lips again...
* * *
Draco's expression suddenly changed as he watched her. It was one thing for Ginny to retort when he'd been just a cold-hearted to her, but for no reason at all? He'd done it once or twice, but that was when she was with Potter or when she was being... Weasley-ish. Today he hadn't been Malfoy-ish, had he? Yes, he'd stuffed the sweatshirt in without so much as a care, but surely that wasn't it?
He thought things were... different now... with her. Why? Why would they be? He had to ask himself these things, something he didn't want to do, but when he did, the realization struck him in the face. Weasley didn't give a damn about him. Nobody did. It was just a kiss, a one-time thing because she pitied him. But now, now he was just the same death eater's son he always was to her.
Malfoy turned away from her. "No..." he replied calmly. "Seeking comfort has always been a Weasley type thing." He continued to stare ahead, not bothering to move, standing still, so very still. "Because the Weasleys are weak and need the comfort. Malfoys, they don't. They know what to do to set things straight. They don't feel the need to go crying to their mommies."
Malfoys didn't cry.
* * *
And she continued kicking herself...
She opened her mouth to apologize for her cold-heartedness. Hadn't she kissed him, then he loaned her his sweatshirt...Okay, so he hadn't sacrificed his life for her or made sweet love... but for Malfoy... this was a stretch, she knew it.
As soon as the words were about to escape from her lips, he opened his mouth to retort, causing her to regretfully clamp hers shut once more. She finally decided not to make a retort, although his remark did make her slightly red in the face. She nodded her head, as if in agreement, realizing maybe he was correct, for she felt like crying right then. It was all crumbling all around her, and it was her fault. As this realization came upon her, she felt a lone tear trickle sadly down her pale, milky white cheek. She quickly wiped it away, simply out of pride, or regret, she wasn't sure, perhaps a mixture.
"You're right, Draco." She confessed, giving him a weak smile, "Perhaps I'll go do that now." She drifted her chocolate eyes to the ground, then brought them back up to his desired lips, and darted her gaze to his gray eyes for a moment before stepping aside, and walking around him, colliding their shoulders together as she brushed past, causing a tingle to erupt delightfully throughout small body.
* * *
He was right? Since when was he right? Weasley NEVER said he was right, ever. It didn't take long for her to brush rudely into his shoulder. He blinked and turned his head quickly to look at her, catching a glimpse of the tears in her eyes. Oh, bloody hell. He'd made her cry. Damn it all. He hated it when girls cried.
Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, stepping up so that he was close to her again, as he had been that afternoon in the hallway, when he'd informed her that sticking her chest out most certainly wouldn't increase the growth of her breasts. One had to admit it was amusing... But such is off subject.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice much softer than its usual calm tone. Draco gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted it to look him in the eye. "Weasley?" He paused. "Ginny?"
* * *
Ginny stopped in her tracks as she felt his firm, but gentle grasp on her arm and turned around to face him, another tear falling to accompany the last. At first, she refused to meet his eyes, to let him see her cry, but his hand slowly trailed to her chin lifting her up to him. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, but that only proceeded to edge more tears on to brim over onto her soft cheeks.
Her chocolate eyes were soft pools now, regretfully. She drifted her eyes to the ground until he finally spoke, referring to her with her first name. Not Little Weasel, not Weaslette, not even Vir-gin-ia.
Ginny.
It sounded wonderful rolling off of his tongue and coming from his sweet lips. She softly turned her face to where his finger no longer sat on her chin but cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes as his question brought her back to reality.
She gave him another weak smile, tucking a soft tendril of hair from her face to her ear, as she meekly answered.
"You."
* * *
Surely he'd heard her wrong. Him? As in Draco Malfoy?
His grey eyes flitted across her face, to the walls, down the corridor, to their feet so close to each other's, and back again. Weasley didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. No one did. He was Malfoy, the bastard, the son of a death eater and the heir of Slytherin. Nobody would want him... nobody...
But she did, and he knew it.
The way she moved her face so that his hand covered so much of her face, the way she smiled weakly at him when she knew she'd screwed up, the way tears fell down her cheek when she cried... It was all so... real. There was no denying Ginny Weasley, no matter how much he wanted to.
"You shouldn't have bothered." He said softly, before leaning in and gently capturing her lips with his for the second time in a lifetime.
* * *
Ginny slowly and hesitantly placed her hands on his wrists as his hands cupped her face. She stepped closer, pressing her chest against his and slowly glided her small hands up his arms, over his defined muscles, and onto the nape of his neck.
She relished the moment as he softly kissed her lips, each one lingering more than the last. She savored his taste as he slowly pulled back, only to bring his lips to hers once more. She finally had enough of the teasing as she pressed her mouth firmly to his, her passion erupting through him as she delved her tongue gently into his moist mouth, lashing about as if hesitant to explore.
She raked her slender fingers through his white-blond hair, gently massaging it as she lost herself in his kiss, intoxicating herself in his kiss and becoming drunk in him as her knees started to slightly weaken and she found herself being supported by his strong build. She pulled back reluctantly slowly, her lashes fluttering a bit, her hair looking a bit disheveled, and her lips slightly passion-swollen. She gave him a small smile as she finally met her chocolate eyes that were now somewhat hazy from the moment, with his warmed gray ones.
She stood there for a moment, her arms still intertwined around him as her mind began to wander a mile a minute. "Why should I not? " She asked, fully concerned as she gently rested her forehead against his muscular chest.
* * *
He was expecting her to pull away, to yank away and scream at him for being such a bastard, for trying to seduce her like she was some five-dollar slut. Draco even went so far as to brace himself for the slap that was sure to follow, for girls lived to make his cheek turn that lovely shade of pink.
But... she didn't slap him. She didn't yell at him, and she most certainly didn't shove him away. Her touch flowed from his forearms, all the way up to his neck, leaving trails of goose bumps wherever it went. It was enchanting, amazing, mesmerizing... He knew for a fact he'd never been touched like that in his life and was doing his best to hide such.
Yes, he pulled away, but only for what he decided would be a breath of air and came back for more, nearly falling over with surprise as her tongue entered his mouth, demanding attention, which he, of course, willing gave. The boy's grip about her waist tightened as he pulled him closer to her, certain that if he let her go... she'd never return to him... Her grip faltered, but his did not. He would not let her fall.
"Weasley... Ginny... You..." He sighed and held her close. "I'm Draco Malfoy, remember?" he asked softly. "The one everyone hates. You used to..." He trailed off and gazed over her head down the corridor, running his fingers through her red locks.
* * *
Ginny giggled a bit at his stuttering as she pulled back from her current residence on his shoulder to look him deeply in the eyes. She brought a tender fingertip to his chin, tracing it along his bone, and up along his cheek with a smooth caress. She stood on her tiptoe, leaning her body into his as she ached to kiss him more, and did just that. She traced the outline of his lips with her tongue, not shy at all, as she had been before, as she let her hands softly and gently explore his back, dragging her fingertips from the small of it, back to his blades, slowly and seductively.
She pulled back reluctantly, after another steamy moment, her eyes still somewhat closed as she felt his hands run through her red mane, relaxing her to no end. She jumped suddenly when she heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind them, and Malfoy's muscles slightly tense. She turned around just in time to see Harry vastly approaching; his cheeks a mild red and puffed out in a fit of anger.
* * *
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Draco stared down at the redhead with a look in his eye that anyone save himself saw would be unable to define. It was... a glint that showed an emotion, something completely uncharacteristic of the Slytherin Prince. He was so sure that such a glint would never shine in his eyes as it did in those of the young ones foolishly swooning after their partners. Yet... they did.
"Ginny..." he moaned softly as she continued to attack him passionately. "Good God woman." If she didn't knock this off soon, well.... his guyish mind would wander to not-so-appropriate things and... Ginny would find herself in the nearest broom closet.
Of course, there wasn't time for that... Footsteps were heard, and Malfoy tensed around Ginny's frame, as though protecting her from some sort of outside force. "I think I may have to go now." He smirked slightly at her, releasing her just in time for a rather rough blow to strike him, knocking him quite far from his the youngest Weasley.
"Get off her Malfoy!" Harry growled, shaking his hand with the effort of the punch. "You stay away from her."
The blonde smirked and hopped back up to his feet. "Or what, Potter? You'll run to Dumbledore and tell him about how you socked me? Real intelligent."
"Leave. Now, Malfoy."
This was really too much, too much indeed. "I think not." Without warning, Potter's fist flew at him again, this time ducked by the Slytherin. Harry was rewarded with a blow to the jaw, emitting a sickening cracking noise.
* * *
Ginny stood in the grasp of Malfoy's strong, slender fingers, continuing to lean her chin onto his broad shoulder. However, she quickly felt his touch yanked away and herself pushed aside. She shook her head for a moment, clearing her mind of the previous moments so she was capable of focusing her attention on the situation at hand. And a quite awkward one at that.
She placed an exasperated hand on her forehead as she watched the fight break out in front of her. Her dark brown eyes growing twice their usual size as fists were flown... all over... her? Since when had the two most sought-after males in the school fought over... her? The Weaslette, as Draco had so formerly loved to call her.
She suddenly heard the sound of a cracking jaw and a moan of anguish. She turned her head quickly towards Draco, her eyes in a concerned state, yet saw he was merely shaking off his hand, which quickly directed her attention to poor Harry, lying on the floor.
"Harry!"
She immediately swarmed to him, her robe flying behind her as she quickly bent down on her knees, peeling his molded hand from his broken jaw. He flinched as pain reverberated throughout his mouth, and blood started to crackle through his gums. She turned to Malfoy, giving him a slightly disappointed look, then diverted her attention back to the victim. She shook her head in disgust as she tried to lift the injured Potter to his feet, placing her hand lightly on his jaw, taking a closer look at the injury. She sighed a bit, as she turned to Malfoy.
"We'll talk about this later." She curtly said, her eyes devoid of any passion, her lips returned to their normal, pale pink state, her hair once more lying loosely in its fire red fashion. She turned from Draco, ripping their intense gaze apart as she left to help Potter to Madam Pomfrey.
* * *
"...Ginny?"
Oh, bloody hell. Wasn't this just peachy? It was, of course, all his fault. Everything was Draco's fault. If he retaliated against The Boy Who Lived he was to blame. If Potter wanted Weasley and couldn't get her, just blame Draco, why don't you? But... no.... Ginny didn't blame him... She used him
She used him to damn well make Potter jealous, and had done a good job of it at that. What difference did it make if she got a good snog in as it was? The saddened expression soon left the Slytherin's face, replaced by the cold, heartless one that usually resided there. He was just a snog toy for Weasley! He couldn't believe this! He'd let himself open up and what happened?
The one he opened himself up to walks off with his archrival murmuring pleasantries in his ear! Well, they could both rot in hell! The both of them! He didn't need anyone, let alone the redheaded Weaslette!
"Fine." He growled, stalking off in the other direction. "You want Pothead? Take him."
She mumbled incoherently underneath her breath as she heaved her legs out from under the comfort of the bed, and onto the cold, hard, unwelcoming, Gryffindor Tower floor. A shiver erupted throughout her spine as she immediately darted her hands to her opposite upper arms, crossing them over her chest, as she stood, walked towards the foot of her bed where her trunk sat.
She rummaged through quickly, wandering her chocolate eyes over her vicariously placed belongings, in search for her uniform and school robes. She finally found a clean set atop a few textbooks, including her Transfiguration one. She hurriedly put on her uniform, and topped it off with the old, near-faded robes, buttoning them as her fire-red hair crept into her line of vision. She raked a loose hand through her strands, and a quick brush, brushed her teeth, and out the door she was, quickly grabbing her bag on the way out.
She bit her bottom lip as she rounded the next corner briskly, yet her bag wasn't traveling at quite the same speed, and ran smack-dab into the bricked corner. Ginny's shoulders slightly slumped as she bit back curses for this horrid morning and slouched down to retrieve her spilled belongings, and quickly caught sight of a jammed sweatshirt at the bottom of her bag
* * *
With a small shiver, Draco Malfoy awoke on his own, perhaps because of the snoring coming from his 'lackeys' as Ginny liked to call them. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and up to the shower, footsteps echoing against the cold dungeon floor. He'd always hated how cold the dungeons were, particularly during the winter as it currently was.
He soon reached the shower, tossing his pajamas over the door as the warm water flowed down his back. The shower was perhaps the only few moments of the day he had to himself, and even then, Draco wasn't quite sure it could count as alone, what with the first year singing in the shower next to him. He couldn't very well think aloud, so he was silent until he stepped out, silent until he left the room, and headed back to his dormitory to dress, silent until he left the common room for breakfast, silent until he reached the hallway and saw the youngest Weasley, book sprawled about all over the floor.
Soon, he was behind her. Bending over her slouched form, he whispered in her ear. "I need my sweatshirt back, Weasley."
* * *
Ginny could feel her back go rigid and her face flush as she felt his hot breath on her neck, sending a fresh tingle down her spine. She had jumped slightly when she had felt him close to her, almost knocking him in the chin, yet refrained and sat still, still in her squatting position on the ground.
She slowly rose, taking him with her as she stooped down to get the last items of hers, and adjusted her bag onto her shoulders. She gave him a meek smile as she dove her hand into her bag, pilfering and groping about for the fabric. When she finally felt it, she slowly brought it out, handing it to him slightly wrinkled, along with a few following papers that had sought refuge at he bottom of her bag.
She slightly rosined at the sight and brought out her wand too, performing a small spell to return the sweatshirt to its normal state... firmly pressed and clean. "Sorry about that.." She apologized, patting it a bit as she handed it to him and bending down to catch the mingling papers.
After she had stuff them back into her bag, she tucked her disheveled locks weakly behind her ear as she started to shift her weight uneasily back and forth, unsure of what to say. "Thanks again, for, uh, letting me borrow it." She finally spat out, gesturing towards the sweatshirt, then realizing what a fool she was making of herself, and with no apparent reason, turned on her heel to leave.
* * *
Draco smirked slightly at Ginny's reaction. She was surprised, as was apparent by her jumpiness and the fact that she nearly made him topple off of her and backwards onto the floor. Of course, she didn't do that, even though she knew who he was. This thought only made him smirk more.
She wanted him.
He didn't comment about the sweatshirt, wrinkled and not so beautiful as it was. Ginny, however, quickly fixed this, pressing and cleaning it with a flick of her wand. The Slytherin looked curiously at her for a moment before shrugging and stuffing it in his own bag, probably much to the young Weaslette's displeasure. No matter. He wasn't going to make room just so it looked pretty, after all.
As she started to leave, he was surprised. Why? Why was she leaving? He hadn't even commented yet! "Where're you going, Weasley?"
* * *
But, she didn't want him.
Err... that's what she kept telling herself, at least.
She crinkled her red brows a bit as he stuffed the sweatshirt into his bag, What a waste of a good spell, she thought silently to herself. Oh well, wasn't her property, he could do whatever he wanted with it. She didn't care about anything of his. She didn't care about him. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Gin. She silently reprimanded herself for even wasting a minute of her thoughts on him, much less... the past week.
As she turned to leave, he called after her, making her smile in satisfaction. "Why do you care?" She asked him, raising a brow. "It's not like you're vying for my attention or company, anyway." She added, quite truthfully. "Why don't you go seek the comfort of the arms of one of your butt buddies, eh?" She asked, giving him a sarcastic smirk. "I'm sure they'd be more than open to it." She shrugged, as if she were only proclaiming the obvious.
She then mentally kicked herself. Why was she treating him like this? When he hadn't even said anything mildly hostile? And all she really wanted was to feel those lips again...
* * *
Draco's expression suddenly changed as he watched her. It was one thing for Ginny to retort when he'd been just a cold-hearted to her, but for no reason at all? He'd done it once or twice, but that was when she was with Potter or when she was being... Weasley-ish. Today he hadn't been Malfoy-ish, had he? Yes, he'd stuffed the sweatshirt in without so much as a care, but surely that wasn't it?
He thought things were... different now... with her. Why? Why would they be? He had to ask himself these things, something he didn't want to do, but when he did, the realization struck him in the face. Weasley didn't give a damn about him. Nobody did. It was just a kiss, a one-time thing because she pitied him. But now, now he was just the same death eater's son he always was to her.
Malfoy turned away from her. "No..." he replied calmly. "Seeking comfort has always been a Weasley type thing." He continued to stare ahead, not bothering to move, standing still, so very still. "Because the Weasleys are weak and need the comfort. Malfoys, they don't. They know what to do to set things straight. They don't feel the need to go crying to their mommies."
Malfoys didn't cry.
* * *
And she continued kicking herself...
She opened her mouth to apologize for her cold-heartedness. Hadn't she kissed him, then he loaned her his sweatshirt...Okay, so he hadn't sacrificed his life for her or made sweet love... but for Malfoy... this was a stretch, she knew it.
As soon as the words were about to escape from her lips, he opened his mouth to retort, causing her to regretfully clamp hers shut once more. She finally decided not to make a retort, although his remark did make her slightly red in the face. She nodded her head, as if in agreement, realizing maybe he was correct, for she felt like crying right then. It was all crumbling all around her, and it was her fault. As this realization came upon her, she felt a lone tear trickle sadly down her pale, milky white cheek. She quickly wiped it away, simply out of pride, or regret, she wasn't sure, perhaps a mixture.
"You're right, Draco." She confessed, giving him a weak smile, "Perhaps I'll go do that now." She drifted her chocolate eyes to the ground, then brought them back up to his desired lips, and darted her gaze to his gray eyes for a moment before stepping aside, and walking around him, colliding their shoulders together as she brushed past, causing a tingle to erupt delightfully throughout small body.
* * *
He was right? Since when was he right? Weasley NEVER said he was right, ever. It didn't take long for her to brush rudely into his shoulder. He blinked and turned his head quickly to look at her, catching a glimpse of the tears in her eyes. Oh, bloody hell. He'd made her cry. Damn it all. He hated it when girls cried.
Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, stepping up so that he was close to her again, as he had been that afternoon in the hallway, when he'd informed her that sticking her chest out most certainly wouldn't increase the growth of her breasts. One had to admit it was amusing... But such is off subject.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice much softer than its usual calm tone. Draco gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted it to look him in the eye. "Weasley?" He paused. "Ginny?"
* * *
Ginny stopped in her tracks as she felt his firm, but gentle grasp on her arm and turned around to face him, another tear falling to accompany the last. At first, she refused to meet his eyes, to let him see her cry, but his hand slowly trailed to her chin lifting her up to him. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, but that only proceeded to edge more tears on to brim over onto her soft cheeks.
Her chocolate eyes were soft pools now, regretfully. She drifted her eyes to the ground until he finally spoke, referring to her with her first name. Not Little Weasel, not Weaslette, not even Vir-gin-ia.
Ginny.
It sounded wonderful rolling off of his tongue and coming from his sweet lips. She softly turned her face to where his finger no longer sat on her chin but cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes as his question brought her back to reality.
She gave him another weak smile, tucking a soft tendril of hair from her face to her ear, as she meekly answered.
"You."
* * *
Surely he'd heard her wrong. Him? As in Draco Malfoy?
His grey eyes flitted across her face, to the walls, down the corridor, to their feet so close to each other's, and back again. Weasley didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. No one did. He was Malfoy, the bastard, the son of a death eater and the heir of Slytherin. Nobody would want him... nobody...
But she did, and he knew it.
The way she moved her face so that his hand covered so much of her face, the way she smiled weakly at him when she knew she'd screwed up, the way tears fell down her cheek when she cried... It was all so... real. There was no denying Ginny Weasley, no matter how much he wanted to.
"You shouldn't have bothered." He said softly, before leaning in and gently capturing her lips with his for the second time in a lifetime.
* * *
Ginny slowly and hesitantly placed her hands on his wrists as his hands cupped her face. She stepped closer, pressing her chest against his and slowly glided her small hands up his arms, over his defined muscles, and onto the nape of his neck.
She relished the moment as he softly kissed her lips, each one lingering more than the last. She savored his taste as he slowly pulled back, only to bring his lips to hers once more. She finally had enough of the teasing as she pressed her mouth firmly to his, her passion erupting through him as she delved her tongue gently into his moist mouth, lashing about as if hesitant to explore.
She raked her slender fingers through his white-blond hair, gently massaging it as she lost herself in his kiss, intoxicating herself in his kiss and becoming drunk in him as her knees started to slightly weaken and she found herself being supported by his strong build. She pulled back reluctantly slowly, her lashes fluttering a bit, her hair looking a bit disheveled, and her lips slightly passion-swollen. She gave him a small smile as she finally met her chocolate eyes that were now somewhat hazy from the moment, with his warmed gray ones.
She stood there for a moment, her arms still intertwined around him as her mind began to wander a mile a minute. "Why should I not? " She asked, fully concerned as she gently rested her forehead against his muscular chest.
* * *
He was expecting her to pull away, to yank away and scream at him for being such a bastard, for trying to seduce her like she was some five-dollar slut. Draco even went so far as to brace himself for the slap that was sure to follow, for girls lived to make his cheek turn that lovely shade of pink.
But... she didn't slap him. She didn't yell at him, and she most certainly didn't shove him away. Her touch flowed from his forearms, all the way up to his neck, leaving trails of goose bumps wherever it went. It was enchanting, amazing, mesmerizing... He knew for a fact he'd never been touched like that in his life and was doing his best to hide such.
Yes, he pulled away, but only for what he decided would be a breath of air and came back for more, nearly falling over with surprise as her tongue entered his mouth, demanding attention, which he, of course, willing gave. The boy's grip about her waist tightened as he pulled him closer to her, certain that if he let her go... she'd never return to him... Her grip faltered, but his did not. He would not let her fall.
"Weasley... Ginny... You..." He sighed and held her close. "I'm Draco Malfoy, remember?" he asked softly. "The one everyone hates. You used to..." He trailed off and gazed over her head down the corridor, running his fingers through her red locks.
* * *
Ginny giggled a bit at his stuttering as she pulled back from her current residence on his shoulder to look him deeply in the eyes. She brought a tender fingertip to his chin, tracing it along his bone, and up along his cheek with a smooth caress. She stood on her tiptoe, leaning her body into his as she ached to kiss him more, and did just that. She traced the outline of his lips with her tongue, not shy at all, as she had been before, as she let her hands softly and gently explore his back, dragging her fingertips from the small of it, back to his blades, slowly and seductively.
She pulled back reluctantly, after another steamy moment, her eyes still somewhat closed as she felt his hands run through her red mane, relaxing her to no end. She jumped suddenly when she heard footsteps rapidly approaching behind them, and Malfoy's muscles slightly tense. She turned around just in time to see Harry vastly approaching; his cheeks a mild red and puffed out in a fit of anger.
* * *
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Draco stared down at the redhead with a look in his eye that anyone save himself saw would be unable to define. It was... a glint that showed an emotion, something completely uncharacteristic of the Slytherin Prince. He was so sure that such a glint would never shine in his eyes as it did in those of the young ones foolishly swooning after their partners. Yet... they did.
"Ginny..." he moaned softly as she continued to attack him passionately. "Good God woman." If she didn't knock this off soon, well.... his guyish mind would wander to not-so-appropriate things and... Ginny would find herself in the nearest broom closet.
Of course, there wasn't time for that... Footsteps were heard, and Malfoy tensed around Ginny's frame, as though protecting her from some sort of outside force. "I think I may have to go now." He smirked slightly at her, releasing her just in time for a rather rough blow to strike him, knocking him quite far from his the youngest Weasley.
"Get off her Malfoy!" Harry growled, shaking his hand with the effort of the punch. "You stay away from her."
The blonde smirked and hopped back up to his feet. "Or what, Potter? You'll run to Dumbledore and tell him about how you socked me? Real intelligent."
"Leave. Now, Malfoy."
This was really too much, too much indeed. "I think not." Without warning, Potter's fist flew at him again, this time ducked by the Slytherin. Harry was rewarded with a blow to the jaw, emitting a sickening cracking noise.
* * *
Ginny stood in the grasp of Malfoy's strong, slender fingers, continuing to lean her chin onto his broad shoulder. However, she quickly felt his touch yanked away and herself pushed aside. She shook her head for a moment, clearing her mind of the previous moments so she was capable of focusing her attention on the situation at hand. And a quite awkward one at that.
She placed an exasperated hand on her forehead as she watched the fight break out in front of her. Her dark brown eyes growing twice their usual size as fists were flown... all over... her? Since when had the two most sought-after males in the school fought over... her? The Weaslette, as Draco had so formerly loved to call her.
She suddenly heard the sound of a cracking jaw and a moan of anguish. She turned her head quickly towards Draco, her eyes in a concerned state, yet saw he was merely shaking off his hand, which quickly directed her attention to poor Harry, lying on the floor.
"Harry!"
She immediately swarmed to him, her robe flying behind her as she quickly bent down on her knees, peeling his molded hand from his broken jaw. He flinched as pain reverberated throughout his mouth, and blood started to crackle through his gums. She turned to Malfoy, giving him a slightly disappointed look, then diverted her attention back to the victim. She shook her head in disgust as she tried to lift the injured Potter to his feet, placing her hand lightly on his jaw, taking a closer look at the injury. She sighed a bit, as she turned to Malfoy.
"We'll talk about this later." She curtly said, her eyes devoid of any passion, her lips returned to their normal, pale pink state, her hair once more lying loosely in its fire red fashion. She turned from Draco, ripping their intense gaze apart as she left to help Potter to Madam Pomfrey.
* * *
"...Ginny?"
Oh, bloody hell. Wasn't this just peachy? It was, of course, all his fault. Everything was Draco's fault. If he retaliated against The Boy Who Lived he was to blame. If Potter wanted Weasley and couldn't get her, just blame Draco, why don't you? But... no.... Ginny didn't blame him... She used him
She used him to damn well make Potter jealous, and had done a good job of it at that. What difference did it make if she got a good snog in as it was? The saddened expression soon left the Slytherin's face, replaced by the cold, heartless one that usually resided there. He was just a snog toy for Weasley! He couldn't believe this! He'd let himself open up and what happened?
The one he opened himself up to walks off with his archrival murmuring pleasantries in his ear! Well, they could both rot in hell! The both of them! He didn't need anyone, let alone the redheaded Weaslette!
"Fine." He growled, stalking off in the other direction. "You want Pothead? Take him."