I pushed my hair behind my ears and chewed thoughtfully on the end of my
eagle feather quill. My parchment was still blank. The blankness of it was
blinding. Potions has always been, surprisingly, my strongest subject. For
some unfair reason, that makes me an embarrassing dunce in Charms.
I peered hard at chapter three of Standard Book of Charms, Grade Five. I was nonplussed. My mind couldn't compute the text. It was like trying to read Greek. Or Gaelic. Sighing, I dipped my quill tip into my ink. I took random words from the chapter and made them into professional sounding sentences. Flitwick was half-blind anyway. Maybe he wouldn't notice.
"Ginny, you just wrote 'Summoning Charms are used to remedy particularly nasty cases of, erm, genital herpes.'" I looked up at Hermione Granger and laughed.
"Oh, well. There's always extra credit." I shrugged my shoulderes and she looked completely horrified.
"Hermy, dearest, Flitwick won't know."
I could tell she was struggling back a prefect-y comment. Prefects have to do that or they get slapped. Or maimed. "Well, okay." She smiled half-way. Totally fake.
Just then, the class bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Off to Potions. Yay.
~*~
"Sit, Miss Weasley." That was Snape. He snarled it. I sat. "You were very nearly late." Snape raised an eyebrow.
"S..sorry, Professor," I stammered. Don't look nervous, I told myself firmly. I was scared crapless.
Snape continued on with his lesson, barking notes at us. Like a mangy street dog. I quilled as fast as my poor, mistreated hand would quill, when finally the class bell rang again. "Weasley, see me after class." I gulped.
"Yes, Professor," I almost whispered and began to throw everything in my possession in my cauldron. "My desk, Weasley."
I was trembling. I was cold and clammy. Snape, I swear, is some sort of unearthly demon that crawled out of a hole somewhere and has taken it upon himself to torture on the mortal world. "What is it, Professor?" I hesitated, trying to think of something I had done to offend the demon.
"I need you...to tutor someone. A boy in Sixth Year."
My heart leaped. Harry? Say it's Harry, say it's Harry, say it's Harry, say it's Harry, you f...
"Draco Malfoy."
Schooom.
That was my heart, hitting the floor.
~*~
I sat down at Gryffindor table, my mind reeling. I hated Snape, really hated him, for making me do this. "What's the matter, Gin?"
That was Hermione. "Nothing. It's just - Snape's making me tutor Malfoy in Potions." The words hung there, almost tangible. My blood started to boil, remembering Snape's greasy voice when he had told me.
Hermione gave me a sympathetic look. "That's awful, Gin!" Her eyebrows knitted together. "I can't believe he's making you do this!"
"Do what?"
"Ron, leave her alone," Hermione snapped. She's been awfully touchy around my brother lately.
"Fine." He shrugged and turned back to his conversation with Harry.
Harry.
My gaze lingered on his face for a moment. Hermione, of course, noticed. She smiled understandingly. "When do you have to start?"
"Tomorrow night," I whispered miserably.
~*~
The next night came too quickly. I slowly gathered up my books after my last class was finished and walked at a snail's pace to the dungeons. Snape was there, but Malfoy wasn't in sight. "He's late," spat Snape, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "This will been ten points from Slytherin if he isn't here in the next five minutes."
'Whoa,' I thought. 'Look whose panties are in a wad.'
Five minutes passed in Snape-y silence. No sign of Malfoy. "Weasley, go find him. Now."
"But what if he's in Slytherin Common Room?"
"The password is 'Power-monger'. Go!"
I wanted to scream at Snape, really loud, but I just glared blackly. The last thing I wanted to do was go into the Slytherin Common Room to find Malfoy. I got out of the dungeon and took a detour to the library, praying that he was in there. As I walked, I wondered over the fact that Snape had given me the password at all. Wasn't that against Head of House rules or something?
The library was deserted. I checked behind every shelf and table until Madam Pince threatened to kill me with her feather duster. Trudging miserably, I made my way to the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, following a boy (Ian Rosier) that I knew. I nervously supplied the password and was promptly admitted. I gazed around. The dungeon was full of students. There was a lot of butterbeer, among other things. I edged my way among the crowd, looking for the elusive Malfoy. I stopped a random boy of about fifteen.
"Where's Draco Malfoy?"
He smirked in a classically Slytherin way. "Sixth Year Boys' Dorm."
Uh oh.
~*~
I wanted to die on the spot, really. Malfoy was in the Boys' Dormitory? Not to mention the Sixth Year Boys' Dormitory...And the Slytherin Sixth Years Boys' Dormitory. And here I am, a lowly female Fifth Year Gryffindor, standing in the Slytherin Common Room, blushing like an idiot.
Sigh.
Life can can be so screwy.
I weighed my options. I could go back to Snape, Malfoyless, and face his demonic wrath...I could march up the Dorm and drag Malfoy out, him fighting tooth and nail...I could pretend to have a hernia and spend the next week in the hospital wing...OR I could politely knock on the Dormitory door and tell Malfoy thatt he's late for his tutoring session.
But what if he's naked? a foul little voice in the back of my head asked.
He won't be, replied an even nastier voice. Unfortunately...
That was awful!
We're the same person, dolt...It's really you who's saying it...
I shook my head, hoping that wasn't my conscience(s) talking. Drawing up a lot of Gryffindor-y courage, I walked up the staircase leading to, presumably, the dormitories. Figuring the dorms were set up in the same way as ours, I went to the right. My hand was trembling slightly. I reached the door with the sign that read "Sixth Year Boys' Dormitory" and stared at it. And stared a bit more.
My hand was poised to knock when it swung open, revealing Draco Malfoy. He looked very annoyed and very shirtless (A/N: He couldn't be *completely* naked, now could he?). He had his robes slung over his shoulder and he was wearing trousers of some material I couldn't identify. I stopped trying to abruptly, because I realized exactly where I was staring.
"Who are you?"
"Uhm...Ginny Weasley..."
He cocked an almost invisible eyebrow. "Ah. My...tutor..."
"Yeah. You're late for your first session."
"Am I?" He glanced carelessly at the watch on his wrist. "You're right, Weasley."
I just stared at him, not sure what to say. "A-aren't you coming?" I floundered. "Snape - Professor Snape - was really angry."
"Obviously, if he'd send a snarky little Gryffindor to fetch me."
I felt my face heating. "Hey -"
I broke off, watching as Malfoy pulled on his robes and ran a quick hand through his hair. "Are we going or not, Weasley?
I peered hard at chapter three of Standard Book of Charms, Grade Five. I was nonplussed. My mind couldn't compute the text. It was like trying to read Greek. Or Gaelic. Sighing, I dipped my quill tip into my ink. I took random words from the chapter and made them into professional sounding sentences. Flitwick was half-blind anyway. Maybe he wouldn't notice.
"Ginny, you just wrote 'Summoning Charms are used to remedy particularly nasty cases of, erm, genital herpes.'" I looked up at Hermione Granger and laughed.
"Oh, well. There's always extra credit." I shrugged my shoulderes and she looked completely horrified.
"Hermy, dearest, Flitwick won't know."
I could tell she was struggling back a prefect-y comment. Prefects have to do that or they get slapped. Or maimed. "Well, okay." She smiled half-way. Totally fake.
Just then, the class bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Off to Potions. Yay.
~*~
"Sit, Miss Weasley." That was Snape. He snarled it. I sat. "You were very nearly late." Snape raised an eyebrow.
"S..sorry, Professor," I stammered. Don't look nervous, I told myself firmly. I was scared crapless.
Snape continued on with his lesson, barking notes at us. Like a mangy street dog. I quilled as fast as my poor, mistreated hand would quill, when finally the class bell rang again. "Weasley, see me after class." I gulped.
"Yes, Professor," I almost whispered and began to throw everything in my possession in my cauldron. "My desk, Weasley."
I was trembling. I was cold and clammy. Snape, I swear, is some sort of unearthly demon that crawled out of a hole somewhere and has taken it upon himself to torture on the mortal world. "What is it, Professor?" I hesitated, trying to think of something I had done to offend the demon.
"I need you...to tutor someone. A boy in Sixth Year."
My heart leaped. Harry? Say it's Harry, say it's Harry, say it's Harry, say it's Harry, you f...
"Draco Malfoy."
Schooom.
That was my heart, hitting the floor.
~*~
I sat down at Gryffindor table, my mind reeling. I hated Snape, really hated him, for making me do this. "What's the matter, Gin?"
That was Hermione. "Nothing. It's just - Snape's making me tutor Malfoy in Potions." The words hung there, almost tangible. My blood started to boil, remembering Snape's greasy voice when he had told me.
Hermione gave me a sympathetic look. "That's awful, Gin!" Her eyebrows knitted together. "I can't believe he's making you do this!"
"Do what?"
"Ron, leave her alone," Hermione snapped. She's been awfully touchy around my brother lately.
"Fine." He shrugged and turned back to his conversation with Harry.
Harry.
My gaze lingered on his face for a moment. Hermione, of course, noticed. She smiled understandingly. "When do you have to start?"
"Tomorrow night," I whispered miserably.
~*~
The next night came too quickly. I slowly gathered up my books after my last class was finished and walked at a snail's pace to the dungeons. Snape was there, but Malfoy wasn't in sight. "He's late," spat Snape, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "This will been ten points from Slytherin if he isn't here in the next five minutes."
'Whoa,' I thought. 'Look whose panties are in a wad.'
Five minutes passed in Snape-y silence. No sign of Malfoy. "Weasley, go find him. Now."
"But what if he's in Slytherin Common Room?"
"The password is 'Power-monger'. Go!"
I wanted to scream at Snape, really loud, but I just glared blackly. The last thing I wanted to do was go into the Slytherin Common Room to find Malfoy. I got out of the dungeon and took a detour to the library, praying that he was in there. As I walked, I wondered over the fact that Snape had given me the password at all. Wasn't that against Head of House rules or something?
The library was deserted. I checked behind every shelf and table until Madam Pince threatened to kill me with her feather duster. Trudging miserably, I made my way to the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, following a boy (Ian Rosier) that I knew. I nervously supplied the password and was promptly admitted. I gazed around. The dungeon was full of students. There was a lot of butterbeer, among other things. I edged my way among the crowd, looking for the elusive Malfoy. I stopped a random boy of about fifteen.
"Where's Draco Malfoy?"
He smirked in a classically Slytherin way. "Sixth Year Boys' Dorm."
Uh oh.
~*~
I wanted to die on the spot, really. Malfoy was in the Boys' Dormitory? Not to mention the Sixth Year Boys' Dormitory...And the Slytherin Sixth Years Boys' Dormitory. And here I am, a lowly female Fifth Year Gryffindor, standing in the Slytherin Common Room, blushing like an idiot.
Sigh.
Life can can be so screwy.
I weighed my options. I could go back to Snape, Malfoyless, and face his demonic wrath...I could march up the Dorm and drag Malfoy out, him fighting tooth and nail...I could pretend to have a hernia and spend the next week in the hospital wing...OR I could politely knock on the Dormitory door and tell Malfoy thatt he's late for his tutoring session.
But what if he's naked? a foul little voice in the back of my head asked.
He won't be, replied an even nastier voice. Unfortunately...
That was awful!
We're the same person, dolt...It's really you who's saying it...
I shook my head, hoping that wasn't my conscience(s) talking. Drawing up a lot of Gryffindor-y courage, I walked up the staircase leading to, presumably, the dormitories. Figuring the dorms were set up in the same way as ours, I went to the right. My hand was trembling slightly. I reached the door with the sign that read "Sixth Year Boys' Dormitory" and stared at it. And stared a bit more.
My hand was poised to knock when it swung open, revealing Draco Malfoy. He looked very annoyed and very shirtless (A/N: He couldn't be *completely* naked, now could he?). He had his robes slung over his shoulder and he was wearing trousers of some material I couldn't identify. I stopped trying to abruptly, because I realized exactly where I was staring.
"Who are you?"
"Uhm...Ginny Weasley..."
He cocked an almost invisible eyebrow. "Ah. My...tutor..."
"Yeah. You're late for your first session."
"Am I?" He glanced carelessly at the watch on his wrist. "You're right, Weasley."
I just stared at him, not sure what to say. "A-aren't you coming?" I floundered. "Snape - Professor Snape - was really angry."
"Obviously, if he'd send a snarky little Gryffindor to fetch me."
I felt my face heating. "Hey -"
I broke off, watching as Malfoy pulled on his robes and ran a quick hand through his hair. "Are we going or not, Weasley?